#why does my phone want to make an event out of the word collected

[blue-lollipops-and-ice-clouds]

Creatures...

(Collected from 1, 2, 3, 4)

#sleep token #there is barely any video #why does my phone want to make an event out of the word collected #anyway #ii sleep token #iv sleep token #sleep token iii #who looks shirtless but also brought back the checkered socks #he's also not actually shirtless otherwise we'd probably have a million good quality photos by now #oh and also #vessel sleep token #the original cryptic man

[jen-with-a-pen]

Dancing in the Kitchen

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

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

word count: 4.9k

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

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

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

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

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

Everything was cold. 

Everything was ruined.

Everything was a fucking nightmare.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tony, please, I–” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuckin’ cunt.” 

Click.

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

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

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

Knock. knock. knock.

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

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

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

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

This time was unlike the million other times.

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

“Steve,” you croaked, reaching for him. 

It was then, everything came crashing down. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, angel? What about Tony?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Had he always looked at you like that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Coffee would be a godsend, right now.”

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

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

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

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

Or, liked it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bzzt.

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

⍟ Steve: You doing OK? Coffees ready 

You looked at yourself in the mirror.

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

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

“Fuck.”

You opened the door. 

⋆˙ઇଓ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

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

More like you. 

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

You mentally scolded yourself.

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

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

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

He was what you needed. 

Was he?

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

“Thank you, Stevie.” 

“You’re welcome, angel.”

You pinched yourself, then took another sip.

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

Steve cleared his throat and set his phone down. 

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

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

And your life.

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You felt tears again. 

“I– Angel, I wasn’t trying to–”

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

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

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

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

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

He’d do it all again for you. 

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

“May I have this dance?” he whispered.

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

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

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

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

Steve had been there. 

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

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

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

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

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

“When?” you asked, voice barely audible.

“Since the day I met you.”

“Why didn’t you–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve frowned, but nodded in understanding. 

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

“You’ll never lose me, Stevie.”

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

You crashed together. 

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

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

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

“Never?” 

“Ever.”

You kissed him again, and the butterflies went wild. 

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

[hyperfixat]

part three wooowooo this is like. half rushed. urgh. i want to get to the good part already but that can’t happen until i establish a world that it can happen in. she is a bit short this time around, uh i don’t have an excuse, bcs this is probably my least fav location/character bunch ☹️ i still like them but its a bit flat whatever just read it if u want

shortest chap. yet… 2.5k> words… [melts] on the bright side this ‘book’ or ‘series of events’ ..whatever has over 10k words now!!

< prev .. next >

** Written

** Written PRE 1.6 – Any mentions of new characters is pure speculation and or headcanons.

“I guess we have to talk to Ms Herta now,” Caelus sighs.

Part of you wonders why Caelus is so intimidated by Herta’s puppets. Maybe he has Pediophobia or something? The other part of you is intimidated at the prospect of meeting the eighty-third member of the Genius Society.

“I’m sure Herta will provide us with valuable insight regarding,” Welt says your name, “situation.”

Dan Heng has his nose buried into his phone screen, the dim light from the screen lights his face up, highlighting the planes as his eyes flicker from side to side as he reads. March slides into the spot next to him and you, grabbing for the half full coffee pot at the table.

“Ugh, how long till the warp jump?” March’s voice is grouchy as she stirs in a pod of creamer to her cute Pompom mug. She sways in her spot a little and her hand pauses for a second before she comes back to herself.

Dan Heng doesn’t look up, “two hours.” March lets out a dramatically anguished moan.

You had spent the night in Himeko’s room, it’s cozy and elegant like a hotel room. It’s the best way you think to describe it; beautifully decorated and clean, yet lived in. She let you share the bed with her and borrow a night shirt – after the day on the Lofou your lack of clothes was quite distressing. You were stinky and smelly from a busy day, and in desperate need of a shower and Himeko was your saving grace.

The ship stopping at Herta’s Space Station is useful regarding your (lack of) clothes, seeing as there should be plenty of regulation uniforms for you to wear until you accumulate a wardrobe of your own. (Luckily Caelus being an androgynous inhuman, somewhat recently synthesized being had a clean pack of proper undergarments for you to have.)

You had taken your retreat from Himeko’s room when she started brewing her (in)famous coffee.

Caelus puts their head in their hands, fingertips grasping at the gray strands loosely.

“Why are you so… scared, intimidated by Herta?” you breach their stupor, making them offer you a weak smile.

“I’m not scared of her per say, but she can be so brash, and I never know if I’m talking to an active puppet,” they sigh, “seriously she has so many puppets all over the station that it’s creepy like one per room. She does not need that many. It’s just that she’s hard to deal with sometimes, all geniuses are I’m told.”

Taking a deep gulp from her mug, March smacks her lips, “with you with us, I’m sure Herta will give us the time of day.” She smiles at you, still sleepy.

You aren’t sure what to make of Herta Space Station when the Astral Express arrives, the tracks are almost deserted save for a few spare workers. March hooks her arm around yours as your group traverses the grand place. There are some nearly deserted hallways that echo your footsteps, where the lights flicker and the only sound is your collective’s walking; just as there are some that are beyond packed, making you shrink into the center of the group, away from all the new sounds, scents, and people.

Sometimes you come across a Herta doll, prompting one of you to walk up and attempt to initiate a conversation with her, before walking off when she doesn’t react, idly staring blankly. It gives you the time to appreciate the craftsmanship Ms Herta put into the puppets. Their eyes are unlike any dolleyes that you saw on Earth, the glassy sheen over them glowing faintly. The joints look sturdy, as in some of the crowded rooms you saw some staff bump into her with decent force, making no movement from the collision.

“I guess we go to the room for the Simulated Universe testing,” Caelus suggests.

“Sounds good,” Welt affirms.

You wonder why you aren’t using any waypoints, maybe it was simply a game mechanic? You did see a Space Anchor when you were getting off the train….

The guards see Caelus approaching and tap on their wristbands simultaneously and the door’s to the testing room open up.

Herta’s eyes track over you and the other passengers, “I take it you’re not here to test the Simulated Universe?”

“No, not right now. Actually we came here because we thought you might be able to provide some insight to our situation right now. Besides, it concerns you as well.”

“Oh, and your strange guest? I take it they’re the center of this situation.” Herta stares straight into your soul with those doll eyes, making you shift behind Welt a little further. “Get on with it, don’t waste my time.”

“Wait!” March jumps in, “we need to gather a few more people!”

Herta sighs and her doll does an almost eye roll. “I’ll be here, or just get whatever doll is closest.” She sounds exasperated.

Asta is the easiest to find, not too far from Herta’s testing room. She’s standing where you usually find her in-game, looking at her phone, texting someone. She looks up when your group approaches her, giving you all an inviting smile.

“Hey there, trailblazers! Anything I can help you with?”

Her hair is really pretty, you note, the braid is tight against her scalp and it looks like she puts a lot of care into maintaining her look. You decide to subtly move away from the back of the group to stand next to Dan Heng and Caelus as they talk to her, explaining that she should follow them for an important meeting.

“Oh, and who’s this? I don’t think we’ve met before. Hi, I’m Asta, lead researcher here at the Herta Space Station.” Asta thrusts her hand forward for you to take, you do, introducing yourself in turn. “It’s lovely to meet you. Will you be a part of this meeting as well?”

“They will.” Dan Heng nods, corralling Asta into your party to head off to search for the next and final person, Arlan. “Do you know where Arlan is right now Ms Asta, he’s the last one that will be joining us.”

“Hm, I think he was talking with Adler, something about a missing Wubbaboo?”

“That kid…,” Caelus mutters under his breath, though it sounds more fond than annoyed, like one would talk about an annoying little sibling.

It takes a while to catch Arlan, you all find him coming out of the elevator on the second layer of the storage zone, close to where you first arrived. You convince him to join you and set off to look for one of Herta’s puppets to talk to.

“Hello? Helloooo?” March 7th waves her hand back and forth in front of the doll’s face and huffs when it doesn't react. Just when she's about to give up the doll jolts and Herta’s voice comes out of the voice box.

“I’m here. I’m here, what is it?”

“Asta, Arlan, you might want to sit down,” Dan Heng suggests kindly. “It might be a bit shocking.”

“Hm?” Asta tilts her head, eyes carefully decoding the emotion on his face, before taking the initiative to lean against the wall.

“Don’t say we didn’t warn you~!” March laughs, before Welt and Himeko bring the proper air of authority to the situation and begin helping you explain that they’re video game characters, you don’t belong here, and may need their help to get back home. At some point Herta’s doll stops its idle motions, but the light behind the eyes shows she’s still there, listening.

Arlan desperately looks at Asta, then you, then Caelus, as if at any moment you’ll all start laughing about how he definitely believed you for a moment. When that moment doesn’t come he takes a place with his back against the wall next to his pink haired superior.

There’s a block of quiet as they all process the bomb you’ve dropped on them, before Herta cuts into it, saying your name. “I’d like to speak with you, in person. Not now, I’ll have Caelus schedule it, but I may be able to offer some… wisdom.”

“Oh, that’s much appreciated, Ms Herta. Thank you,” you nod at her.

“Don’t be thanking me yet,” and at the mildly ominous words she promptly goes offline.

Hm. That’s not exactly reassuring, but it could always have been worse.

With the whole conversation thing done and dusted for everyone on the spaceship, you take a lone walk, breathing in the somewhat stuffy air, searching for any inner wisdom that could come from time alone without distraction.

Your mind doesn’t provide much thought, though being alone with yourself after so many eventful moments – spanning so close together too, gosh – is therapeutic in of itself. Only when it begins to get to the point of eerily quiet in the part of the station you’d wandered into does a small ‘yip’ sound at the end of the hall from whence you came. Spinning on your heel you spot a small, white and awfully cute dog.

Peppy!

You gasp in elation, kneeling where you stand and holding out your hand hoping the dog will come trotting over to greet you, it does, to your excitement, letting out another woof before following through.

“Hello there, little guy,” you coo at the dog, smiling as it yips happily at your soft touch.

Distantly echoing you here what you think is Arlan’s voice echoing down the halls, he sounds far. You lift your gaze away from Peppy as another echoing call arrives.

“Peppy!” you lift your eyebrow at the dog, giving it a skeptical look, almost as if it knows what you’re attempting to portray it averts it’s gaze, eyes flicking to the side.

An out-of-breath Arlan comes speeding down the hall, only stopping upon seeing you and the target he was searching for.

“There you are, Peppy. Lady Asta was looking all over for you,” he scolds the dog gently. “Sorry about this…” Arlan talks to you, bending in front of you to pick up the fluffy dog. His hands almost disappear into Peppy’s coat when he picks the dog up. “I hope Peppy didn’t cause you any grief?”

“They’re a sweet thing,” you laugh, petting the dog in his arms. Arlan smiles at you, verbally expressing his agreement.

Herta Space Station was fun to explore, and by the time your body begins to feel the wear of the day you aren’t far from a Space Anchor… hmm, you wonder if you could utilize it to make the trip back to the express much easier.

You walk up to the geometric floating object and hesitate before placing a hand on the surprisingly cool ring of gold around it. There’s no one around to hear the sound of alarm you let out when your entire vision is taken over by a bird’s eye map of the station. Oh! It’s just like the game, relief fills you at that.

Now, all you need to do is: click on the Pompom waypoint that will take you to the express and… your vision then goes white and you feel your legs fall.

This time someone is around to hear the sound you make as you crash and tumble into the carpet of the Astral Express. That someone being Pompom. Well. At least you managed to teleport.

Speaking of Pompom they were watering some of the plants over by the passenger log, but when you came in they jump, falling to the ground themself, landing on their furry butt with a huff. “HEY! Don’t scare Pompom like that!”

“Sorry, sorry,” you clasp your hands into a steeple; as if praying for forgiveness. “I didn’t know what would happen:” a half truth, as you had your expectations.

They brush their clothes off and you help them to their feet. You yawn then, holding a hand over your mouth.

“Have any of the others returned yet?”

“No. Pompom has been waiting for the first arrival to start making lunch,” the shuffle their paws together in a way that is sure to look dignified and professional, but from your perspective looks adorable. “Speaking of, the first passenger to return sometimes offers to assist the conductor….”

You pick up what they are putting down, as the idiom goes. “I can help in that case!”

You assist Pompom in the train’s kitchen. For a creature like them they’re quite purposeful with their movements, not that you have any reference of how a creature like them would usually move. That is to say they’re good in the kitchen. The rabbit(thing?) wears the cutest little bonnet and gloves to avoid getting fur into the meal, and tasks you with some simple chores to prepare the meal.

Cooking with Pompom is overall a fun and positive experience, and luckily the rest of the crew arrive just in time to eat. You all sit down around the dining cart’s table to discuss the day’s events and your future plans.

“The station is very clean. I like it,” you start the small talk the best you can.

“Indeed, the staff are very diligent,” Dan Heng nods.

There’s the scrape of utensils against plates and March speaks up, “so Jarlio VI tomorrow?”

“That is the plan,” Welt affirms. “Unless,” his eyes glint under the overhead lighting as they meet yours, “there have been any last minute change of plans.”

“Nope, we should be set.” You nod, feeling warm under the older man’s gaze.

“Well then, that settles it, Jarlio VI is tomorrow’s destination. All this adventuring isn’t meant for someone my age…” his last sentence is quieter and followed by a heavy sigh.

Himeko covers up a giggle with a bite of food, and March looks at you with mirth in her eyes.

“Jarilo-VI, here we come!” She finally laughs, lifting her glass in a mimicry of a toast. The rest of the table joins in, lifting their cups as well.

Jarilo-VI, here we come.

tags (comment or leave an ask to join) : @leafanonsforest @c00kie-cat @andromeda-gay

#verified hyperfixat post #sahsrau #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #isekai #honkai star rail isekai #hsr isekai #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fanfiction #herta space station #urgh #i hate having to tag posts bro #hsr #honkai star rail

[ofherpinkways]

Hyper Fixation

Cod characters x horror fan reader (GN bf/gf :) )

Summary : they ask one small question horror movie sending you into a complete hyper fixation and happy rant about all your favorite scary movies

(A/N: tbh this is mainly for myself so I can finally spill out my bottled up horror movie rants,plus this is based off interaction I just had with a friend on Snap. Our babies will be referred to as "they/them" since i wanna include everyone 🤍🩰🧸 might do a pt2)

You loved horror movies and let it be known to all. Everyone at the base knew it and it was what you were known for even to those who didn't know you fully . Often referred to as the "Horrorjunkie"

Your dorm was filled with horror movie posters,props from iconic classics and of course you had a bunch of those mini polaroid posters of all your favorite horror movies. Your body is covered in horror movie themed tattoos of all the well known villains and other scary themed things. Your left hand was covered in one giant tattoo that made it look like you were a skeleton. All of your causal/civilian clothes were the Steven Rhodes t-shirts and hoodies.

God forbid anyone lets you pick the movie during movie night . It was gonna be scary obviously. This night you picked Sinister (2012) forcing everyone in the common room. It only got worse when few of your teammates confessed they've never seen it. There you sat grinning wildly knowing the whole movie play by play. Having the ability to mentally time each up in coming jumpscare in your head laughing and smiling to yourself prepared for each scare ,glancing up at them wanting to see their reaction. The infamous lawn mower scene had just happened causing everyone but you to jump and yelp a little , instead you laughed and smiled happily at their reactions finding the whole thing amusing.

Fast forward weeks later,you were sitting on the couch scrolling your phone with " " (This is where you insert whoever you want lol). You both got bored after a while, you move and lay your head onto their lap "wanna watch a movie?" you ask looking up at them "I'll pick" you sang dragging the words smiling . They laughed smiling back "and what horror movie has the honors of your picking today mmph?" they remarked . You sat up and playfully huffed with fake offended expression on your face , putting your hand to your chest "Now who said it was gonna be a horror movie ?" you replied holding back a giggle

"you get called "horrorjunkie" for a reason " they said with a chuckle. You crossed your arms smirking "Touche", you grab the remote and start looking through the horror movie collection on Netflix " How about The Strangers ?" you ask looking at your partner . "Again ? we've watched like ten times already,why do you like it so much?"

you gasped "how could I not love it? its's such a classic !, and the timing of its release ! It was something never done before ! it scared the shitout everyone making them fear being in their own homes,making them worry when answering their door and the simple fact it was based off a true event?!?! absolutely sickening" you explained in a fast and excited manner.

And that's how you both spent the rest of your night and ranting about each of your beloved scary movies along with the cast,the directors ,the lore,the meaning and messages behind them, the remakes and sequels all of it

Going on about Scream 1996 flapped over and changed horror forever

Going on about Radio Silence was doing a great job on honoring Wes Craven on his creation of the Scream movies , as they keep the franchise

Why the Evil Dead franchise was so loved

Breaking down and explaining all of Jordan Peele movies, explaining the meaning,how their connected in way,why Jordan writes the way he does, why it's better to show and not tell

Giving off examples of movies that were clearly inspired of Peele's work

Talking about Ethan Hawke is perfect for horror movies

How his performance in The Black Phone shocked and scared everyone

Even though they may not get horror movies the way you do. They love the way your eyes lit up,love hearing the excitement in you voice, loving how animated you became when talking about horror movies. They enjoyed how happy the movies made you so they sat smiling up at you the whole time as you talked for what seemed like forever but they didn't care

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #price x reader #soap x reader #roach x reader #farah x reader #laswell x reader #alex x reader #horangi x reader #könig x reader #krueger x reader #keegan x reader #alejandro x reader #rudy x reader #valeria x reader #graves x reader #nikto x reader #Velikan x reader

[quinns-shadowy-arts]

Feel My Heart Beat Against Your Palm

Day 5 of @steddielovemonth‘s Steddie Love Month Event!  Rating: T CW: Recreational Use of Drugs, Detailed Description of a Panic Attack, Detailed Description of a Nightmare.  Tags: Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Living with the Aftermath of Trauma, Panic Attacks, Nightmares, Recreational Use of Drugs, Robin is Really Trying to get Steve and Eddie Together.  WC: 2,198  Prompt:  Love is being seen and known; Submitted by @acasualcrossfade  

Eddie’s staying the night, as he does every Friday. They’ve started a tradition. Eddie, Robin, and sometimes Nancy, Johnathan, and Argyle go over to Steve’s every Friday to watch movies. They all take turns picking the movie. Tonight was sort of a group decision. Robin had spotted Labyrinth in the “New Releases” section of Family Video. The group would’ve gone to the theater to see it when it first came out, but they were all still recovering from Vecna. So they’ve only gotten to it now. 

Robin thought Labyrinth sounded weird enough to satisfy her taste, Jonathan and Argyle thought it sounded fun, Nancy didn’t really have anything to say for or against the movie, Eddie wanted to see the puppetry and fantastical world, and Steve liked that David Bowie was in it. It seems that Steve has taken a liking to David Bowie more than he usually does, if Eddie has anything to say about it. Compared to the usual argument that would’ve unfolded, it seems that Labyrinth was the perfect pick for the group. 

After the movie was over, everyone sorta hung around for a bit. After discussing what they liked about the movie and other general topics, Nancy left to drive Jonathan and Argyle home. Robin stayed to help clean up a bit; chatting with Steve and Eddie further. Then the phone rang. 

“Hello?” Robin had answered the phone after a silent stare off between the three of them.  She nodded her head, followed with a bundle of ‘yeah’s and ‘mhm’s. She hangs the phone back up and turns to the other two. 

“So… My parents want me back home.” Robin says while twisting the ring on her middle finger. 

“What, why?” Steve questions. Robin usually spent the night with Steve and Eddie after their movie nights. 

“Um, something has just… come up.” Robin says while staring into Steve’s soul. She raises her eyebrows at him, trying to telepathically convey something to him. Steve furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. Eddie thinks he looks like a puppy dog. The thought makes something warm swirl in his belly. 

After a couple of minutes, Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in understanding. 

“Ohhhh, yeah ok. Here, let me walk you to the door.” Steve walks over to Robin. They walk to the door and hushed whispers spill after them. Eddie is nosy, always has been and probably always will be. He tries listening to them while mindlessly moving things around, trying to look like he’s busy and not eavesdropping on their conversation. But alas, they’re too far away for any words to be coherent enough for Eddie to understand. After a couple of minutes, Steve walks back into the room.  

“Robin’s riding her bike home, something came up.” Steve says, walking over to walk some of the collected trash into the kitchen. 

“Is everything ok?” Eddie asks, following after Steve. Steve stands with his back turned to Eddie,

“Yeah, her parents just need her for something” Steve responds, barely turning his head in Eddie’s direction while stuffing the empty plates and cans into the trash can.    

“Oh ok.” Eddie nods. Sure, Robin makes things fun and he loves her, but Eddie is definitely not too upset about being able to spend some alone time with Steve. 

After finishing up cleaning, Eddie turns to Steve with a mischievous smirk. He pulls a baggie with joints out of his pocket, 

“Hey, want to maybe light up with me?” Eddie raises his eyebrows at Steve, still holding his smirk. Steve smiles back, 

“Yeah, dude. Why the hell not” Steve walks over to Eddie and plucks the joint out of his hand. 

“Let’s go up to my room, yeah?” Steve asks while not looking back, knowing that Eddie is already following. 

Once they get up to Steve’s room, Steve pulls open his window and stands against the ledge. He starts patting his pockets, trying to find his lighter. He sticks the rolled paper into his mouth, using both hands to dig around in his pockets. Eddie walks over and strikes up his lighter. He cups the end of the joint while lighting the end. 

Eddie makes the stupid decision to look up, making direct eye contact with Steve. His eyes are absolutely devastating. The moon hits off of them, lighting them up. The chocolate brown of his eyes meld together with an earthy green and flecks of pure gold, creating an all encapturing sight. His eyes look like a mossy forest, deep and enchanting. 

“Thanks, man.” Steve says, breaking the moment. He pulls a deep breath in, holding the smoke in before exhaling back out, aiming the smoke through the open window. Eddie blinks away, looking back down to put his lighter back into his pocket. 

Steve passes the joint over to Eddie. Eddie grasps the joint in his fingers. Steve’s hand brushes against Eddie’s, his hand warm and solid.  An electric feeling passes through Eddie. He shivers before taking his own hit. 

They stay there for a while, sitting in a comfortable silence while passing the joint back and forth. They don’t technically need to share, Eddie has another joint in his baggie. But they share anyway, they always do. Soon enough the joint has dwindled down, they’re both high enough to hopefully have a peaceful sleep. Steve turns to Eddie, looking into his eyes before speaking up,

“I’m tired, man. Ready to go to bed?” Eddie nods his head. His eyes feel as droopy as Steve’s look. Despite staying over every week, Eddie always ‘just happens to forget’ his pajamas at home. 

“Can I borrow some clothes? I forgot mine again.” Eddie tries to feign innocence by bringing his hand up to rub at the back of his neck. He can’t be blamed that much, though. He likes to feel close to Steve by wearing his clothes. He likes to pretend that he’s wearing them for different reasons, like maybe he belongs to Steve. That maybe Steve belongs to him, too. 

“Sure” Steve says as he walks over to his dresser. He pulls out a set of sweatpants and a soft, worn T-shirt. 

“Here, Eds” He says, tossing his clothes over to Eddie. He turns back around and starts changing into his own sleep wear. Eddie turns and starts undressing. He puts on the sweatpants first. They’re slightly too big on him. The length is fine, but the fabric hangs loose around his calves and thighs. They’re a light grey in color, soft and perfect. 

Eddie pulls on the shirt. It’s a dark, navy blue. The front reads “Hawkin’s Community Pool Lifeguard”. It’s probably one of the darkest shirts Steve owns, ironic due to it supposedly being worn out in the sun all day. It’s soft and a bit on the thinner side from being worn for so long. Eddie’s seen Steve wear this shirt around the house quite a bit. Knowing that he gets to wear one of Steve’s most comfortable shirts makes Eddie’s face warm. 

He turns back around, Steve already done changing and looking at him. Eddie smiles at him, 

“Well, good night, Stevie.” Eddie says, wiggling his fingers in a flirty way as he turns to leave the room. 

“Wait-” Steve says, grabbing onto Eddie’s bicep. 

“Can you…Can you stay in here?” Steve asks. He looks at Eddie despite his hesitation.

“Yeah. I’ll stay with you, Stevie.” Steve softens at Eddie’s affirmation. He doesn't let go of Eddie, but instead pulls him towards the bed. Steve pulls back the covers and slides in first, leaving a side open for Eddie. 

Eddie crawls in, grabbing the blankets and tucking them both in. He leaves a gap in between them. He wants to close the space, to cuddle with Steve and fall asleep wrapped around him. But he doesn’t. Instead he turns onto his side, the one facing away from Steve. It kills him, not being able to look at Steve; but he knows he won’t be able to go to sleep if he looks for any longer. 

“Good night, Stevie. Have sweet dreams, don’t let the bedbugs biteee” Eddie chants, teasing Steve while meaning every word. 

“You too, you dork,” Steve says. Eddie can hear the smile in Steve’s voice. Sleep soon starts taking over Eddie’s body. His eyes droop closed, his breath evens out, and he melts into Steve’s absolutely delightful bed. 

He can’t breathe. The bats are after him. His legs sting as he peddles faster. He needs to do this. He needs to draw the bats away from Dustin. He needs to go. He needs to stand up. 

He jumps off of the bike, throwing it to the ground. He swings back around and stabs at the bats with his spear. He tries holding up his shield, but there’s too many. They’re swarming him

. He falls to the ground. They bite into him. It hurts. They’re eating him. He can’t breathe. He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He can’t breathe. 

He can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he can’t- 

“Eddie!” Steve shakes him awake. His lungs hurt. He’s sweaty and panic is still stuck in his throat. His heart is beating too fast for his body, he’s going to die if it keeps going like that. He’s going to die- 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Steve says, still holding onto Eddie’s shoulders. His eyes shoot over to Steve’s. His heart is still beating too fast, he still can’t breathe. 

“Here-” Steve says. He moves his hand down Eddie’s arm and onto his hand. Steve grips his hand and pulls it up. He presses Eddie’s hand to his chest, right above his heart. 

“Feel that? It’s my heartbeat, we’re ok. Feel my chest, Eds. Follow my breathing,” Steve’s skin is warm under Eddie’s palm. Eddie focuses on the rise and fall of Steve’s chest. He tries matching his breathing to Steve’s. 

Inandout. Inandout. In and out. In…. and out. 

“There we go. Good job, baby. You’re doing amazing for me.” Eddie flushes at the pet name. He feels better now. He can breathe. He still feels taught, like a string pulled too tight. 

“You remember where we are? We’re in my room. You’re in my bed. It’s Friday, remember? We watched Labyrinth with Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle? We’re safe, it’s ok.” 

Right, right. It’s Friday. He’s in Steve’s room, in Steve’s clothes. He’s here because Steve asked him to stay. He remembers.

“Ok….I’m ok.” Eddie says after a minute. Steve moves his free hand up from Eddie’s shoulder and onto his face. He cradles Eddie’s face in his hand. His hand is rough from calluses. His thumb swipes away the tears on Eddie’s face. When did he start crying?

“You did so amazing, Eddie. You just had a nightmare, we’re ok.” Steve reaffirms. Eddie feels shame coil in his gut. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I didn’t wake you up, did I? I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, No. None of that. You don’t need to apologize, Eds.” Steve says softly, continuing to rub his thumb across Eddie’s face. 

“No, I do. I know sleeps hard and I took that away from you-” Eddie tries to say, but Steve cuts him off again. 

“Eddie, it’s ok. I know. I know what the nightmares are like, Eds. You went through so much, Baby. It’s ok to still be scared. I’m still scared too. You don’t need to apologize. You have nothing to apologize for.” Steve looks at Eddie with something so soft. It’s not demeaning, but genuine and light. Eddie wants to fight back, to convince Steve to let him apologize. But Steve makes him feel so safe. He can’t argue back, but he still can’t agree, either. 

“Hey, I know that look. You have to believe me, Eddie. Do you know how many times you’ve helped me after a nightmare? So many times, Eddie. So many times.” Steve smiles at him,

“You always tell me it’s not a hassle. That I’m not a hassle. You make me feel seen, Eddie. I see you too. I see you, Eds.” 

Eddie’s heart swirls. Steve sees him. Steve sees him for him. All the excitement and fun and liveliness of the day. All of the bad and pain and fear of the night. He sees Steve, and Steve sees him right back. Eddie nods this time; his walls have been tumbled down, Knocked over by Steve’s assurance.  

“I love you, Eddie.” Steve presses his forehead against Eddie’s. His hand’s still holding Eddie’s to his chest. Eddie can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong. Eddie can almost feel the love pumping through Steve. 

Eddie’s face breaks into a smile. Steve sees him and loves him despite it, Because of it. A warm flourish blooms through Eddie. A tear runs down his cheek for a different reason, now. 

“I love you too, Stevie.” Eddie says. The love they share is caught between them. The small space still there is filled with love. Eddie can’t deny it, he can only embrace it.  

Steve’s skin is warm against his, their hearts beat together, and they love each other. Eddie sees Steve, and Steve sees Eddie.    

#hurt/comfort #steddie fanfic #steddielovemonth #maybe this makes up for yesterday's post #CW: description of a panic attack #CW: descrition of a nightmare #steve harrington loves eddie munson #eddie munson loves steve harrington

[daisynik7]

could you do the most gut punching, debilitatingly soul crushing, hair pulling, tear inducing eren ff



cw: PLEASE READ - extremely heavy content and trauma warning, please proceed with caution. If you are sensitive to topics that deal with traumatic events, please avoid this. I'm being overly cautious just in case! 

Author’s Note: Thank you for the request, anon. Doing my best to give you something that I consider gut punching/debilitating/tear inducing. I’m sorry for the hurt, this was a tough one to write!

It’s past midnight and you can’t sleep. You’ve been staring up at the ceiling for the past hour, eyes focused on the blank canvas above you, mind unable to shut down the way you want it to. It’s no secret: you’re thinking about Eren again. You haven’t stopped thinking about him for over a year now. And, given your unbreakable track record thus far, you never will.

You call his phone, knowing it’ll go straight to voicemail, clearing your throat as his familiar voice says, “Leave a message after the beep!” The tone rings, signaling for you to start. 

“Hey. It’s me again. I know you’re probably tired of hearing my voice, but if you think that’s going to stop me, you’re wrong. I’ll keep calling until the day you pick up.” You turn to your side, resting your phone between the pillow and your ear. 

“I can’t sleep. I had a shitty week at work. Levi’s been on my ass, complaining about how my desk is so unorganized. You know how he is. I guess it doesn’t help that I’ve been out of it. I don’t know. I wish you were here.” You swallow hard, trying to hold back from crying. It always leads to this, though. Tears streaming down your cheeks, soaking your pillow in sobs and snot. Eren always teased you for being such a cry baby. It’s one of the many things he loved about you. 

“Annie told me I should start dating again. Let go and move on. Told me it’s for the best. Of course, I got upset at her, but I know she’s just worried about me.” You sigh, eyes beginning to water. “Do you still think about me? Because I sure as hell still think about you. All the time.”

It’s inevitable now; the crying, the rush of emotions. “I’m still so fucking mad at you for leaving that night,” you say, sniffling. “So fucking mad for not staying with me. Why did you do that, Eren? Why did you leave me?” 

You sob into the phone, unable to form coherent words any longer. It takes a minute or two to collect yourself, wiping your face with the blanket, eyes puffy, nose runny. As best as you can, you continue, voice trembling. “I’m not actually angry. I promise you. I just miss you so fucking much. There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not thinking of you. I see you everywhere. In my dreams, around my house, whenever I hang out with our friends. You’re always here and always there. I can’t escape you.”

The giant teddy bear he won at that state fair five years ago sits on the bed beside you. You reach out for it, holding it snug in an embrace, the phone still squeezed to your ear. “I know you’ll never listen to this, but I want you to know that I still love you. I’ve always loved you, Eren. I always will.” With that, you hang up, ending the voicemail.

It’s been over a year now since the accident. When you got the call from his parents, you were staring up at the ceiling, exactly like tonight, unable to sleep. Waiting for his call to come through, ensuring you he got home safely. You told him to stay over, but he insisted, knowing he had to be with his family the next morning to celebrate his mom’s birthday. And of course, it’s not his fault for insisting. Eren was always trying to make everybody happy. It’s not his fault for driving that night. It’s not his fault for stepping on the gas pedal when the stoplight turned green. It’s not his fault for not noticing the speeding car with its headlights turned off, driving towards him, running the red. None of it was his fault, and that’s what makes it hurt the most. He didn’t deserve this. Nobody does.

And while he’s still living and breathing, the steady heartbeat pounding in his chest, it’s almost harder than if he wasn’t. For over a year now, you’ve held onto hope that one day, he’ll wake up from his coma. That the past twelve, thirteen, fifteen months have been an unbearable nightmare, and he’ll be back to his normal self. Laughing and smiling with his cheeks rounded, the same electric joy he brings everywhere he goes. It’s that hope that drives you crazy, keeps you sinking down this unending spiral. But it’s the only thing you have left to hang on to. 

It's become routine to visit him every weekend in the hospital. Sitting beside his peaceful form, stroking his hand. Throat stuck with anguish that renders you speechless. That’s why you leave the voicemails for him on his phone, the one that his mom promises to keep charged every day because she knows how important it is to you. You scoot the chair closer to him, the phone held in your grasp, playing on speaker the latest message you left for him just several hours ago. Wishing for a miracle that somehow, he’s hearing this and dreaming of you in his everlasting slumber.

Hey. It’s me again. I know you’re probably tired of hearing my voice, but if you think that’s going to stop me, you’re wrong. I’ll keep calling until the day you pick up.          

#eren angst #eren jaeger #requests #eren fanfiction #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager #eren aot #eren x reader #eren jaeger imagines #aot fanfiction #aot angst #attack on titan angst

[randomshyperson]

New Romantics - Chapter Three - Wanda Maximoff Series

Summary: Trapped in a loveless relationship that has cost her friendships, Wanda watches her senior year of school turn upside down after a party. She will make new friends and may end up learning that not every relationship is doomed to failure.

Warnings: (+16), straight and toxic relationships, making out, underage drinking, language, co-dependency, conversations about insecurity and self-worth, attempted romantic comedy, unrequited love at first, friends to lovers. | Words: 4.619k

Skamverse Collection | Series Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |

--//--

Chapter Three - The Graduation Committee doesn't give an F*

Novi Grad, Friday 06:12 pm

The auditorium was considerably full, all (or almost all) of the graduating students and even younger ones that were trying to have some sort of advantage for the next years were present, and glancing at the line at the entrance, Wanda decided to check her cell phone before facing the wait.

Vision visualized it, but didn't answer her last messages, and she sighed at the empty hallway around her. She was facing the trophy cabinet and tried to call her boyfriend, who, to her surprise, answered.

"Hey." She spoke first, receiving a short laugh on the other end.

"I thought you'd be busy." He retorts, and she automatically frowns at the attitude.

"And I thought you might be since you ignored all my messages." She returns trying not to get so irritated. His impatient sigh on the other end doesn't help this.

"I was, I am actually." Says the boy. "What, you want me to pick you up from your... super fun meeting with the less fortunate folks at school?" He mocks and Wanda snorts indignantly.

"I'm trying to make new friends, Vision, as you casually remind me at every opportunity that I don't have any!"

He sighs on the other side. "Come on, Wanda, I already apologized, I didn't mean it that way."

Wanda looks away as she notices the tears in her own reflection, and takes a deep breath, noticing that the line has shortened. "Whatever, Vis, I don't need a ride. I just wanted to know if your cell phone still works."

He laughs, completely ignoring how upset she still is. "Okay, but I'm still picking you up. What time does this thing end?"

" I don't want-”

"I still don't know why you waste your time with these losers, but god helps me from trying to watch over you. Text me when you're done, darling. I'm with the boys now. Love you, see you later."

Wanda doesn't answer and is under the impression that she won't text at all. Vision hangs up without noticing, and she puts the cell phone in her pocket, heading into the crowded auditorium.

She doesn't feel very excited about socializing, and it doesn't get any better when she notices Jean and her group of friends in one of the corners of the room. The redhead giggles wryly as soon as she sees her, whispering something to Eve, who grimaces uncertainly. Wanda stops staring and looks around for an empty seat.

She is considering running away from this meeting when you arrive with a dark-haired girl she doesn't know, your gaze circling the room until you notice her. Her stomach jumps when you smile, waving in her direction as if you've been friends forever before you go on stage to greet other students with your friend.

The teacher in charge of the fundraising event is Mrs. Harkness, and she seems even more stressed and impatient than she normally is.

"Everyone sit down please, move along, let's finish this before eight" She announces loudly, and soon everyone starts moving.

Natasha greets Wanda with a kiss on the cheek at some point but has to go to the front, and stand next to the sales group leaders. You, jump seats across the row - ignoring Ms.Harkness' warning about or the giggles of your colleagues - to reach the empty space next to Wanda.

"Hey, Maximoff, long time no see." You joke, taking a seat next to her in a jump. She laughs, feeling her heart miss a beat with the kiss on the cheek you give her in greeting. "I'm glad you could make it, these meetings suck."

"Oh, I know, I attended one of those in freshman year and I swore it would be my last." She confides quietly because Harkness has started the introduction.

You smile. "What changed your mind?"

She shrugs, biting the inside of her cheek. The girl who came with you sits with Yelena Belova, Wanda notices, and they seem close. Soon Harkness is asking about the groups and what fundraising ideas they have to pay for the graduation party and trip, and Wanda is trying to pay attention to this and not to your presence next to her.

She ends up noticing the other groups as well, some mixed, some just boys or girls. She notices Jean, and her former friends talking animatedly about the food stall they are going to take over and feels a soft sadness fill her chest. She wonders if things had been different, would she be sitting with those girls now?

As two trios fumble over the choice of person in charge of the raffle, Harkness sighs loudly and impatiently, a hand on her forehead before asking for a five minutes break.

"Do you want to get out of here?" You ask her suddenly, and Wanda takes a glance at the groups ahead. The meeting looks like it will take much longer than originally planned, and she is agreeing immediately. You smile and nod in the direction of the exit, and Wanda takes her cue from the students getting up for the break to move first.

Once in the empty halls, you lead the way to the outside gardens.

"I don't want to speak badly of my lovely colleagues, but by god, how annoying they can be." You comment making her chuckle. Wanda hesitates as you take a carton of cigarettes out of your pocket, and you raise an eyebrow at her. "Does it bother you?"

She immediately denies it. "Not at all, I was just going to stay away from the smoke so I wouldn't be a passive smoker."

You chuckle, taking two steps back with a playful attitude. "It's not that kind of cigarette." 

"Oh." She can't hide her surprise and feels a little embarrassed at your smile. "It's no problem either." She murmurs, taking the seat on the bench next to you.

You light the joint, and take a deep drag, exhaling into the starry sky above you before you clarify. "I have considerable social anxiety. So whenever I have to go to very crowded places, this helps me relax a little."

Wanda twists her fingers inside her jacket pockets. "Got it." She mutters, not quite knowing what to say about it. "Thanks for telling me."

You smile at her politeness. "You're welcome, Wanda." Another short drag. "You don't talk much, is it because you don't like me?"

She giggles, feeling her ears heat up. "What? Where did that come from?"

You shrug, a smile playing on your lips that hold the cigarette for a moment. "It's just that your brother talks a lot. I thought twins who had similar personalities, but you two are very different."

She smiles, "I guess so. But I'm not quiet all the time, I talk."

"Yes, especially in Literature." You retort. "Such a clever girl."

She chuckles shyly, shaking her head. "Yeah, right."

"What? It's true. Your reviews are brilliant." You insist and with a smile, you add: "You're brilliant."

She can feel her face flush and thinks the way you seem pleased to affect her is not fair. She tries to shrug it off casually.

"I don't think I'm brilliant at all, the only subject I do well in is literally that one. " She confides then, and you take a drag, thoughtful for a moment. "Sorry, that was a bit self-deprecating."

You twitch your nose. "Don't apologize for saying what you're thinking, or feeling. It's not a bad thing." You retort immediately, and she swallows dryly. Your expression softens. "And what's this about not being brilliant? Everyone has their talents. Da Vinci didn't revolutionize physics like Albert Einstein but it wasn't Einstein who made the Monalisa."

Wanda chuckles, her cheeks rosy. "I think you have a point."

"Of course I do, I happen to be quite brilliant myself." You comment humorously.

"Quite modest too I see." She adds in the same tone.

"Always." You murmur, taking another drag. You are beginning to feel all your muscles relax, so you think about putting out the cigarette. But an adult figure coming out of the same entrance you came in makes you choke with fright.

"Miss L/N, I'm going to pretend you're not smoking on school grounds for the sake of my blood pressure." Agatha announces seriously, approaching you in long strides. She takes the cigarette from your hand, and you try to control your cough as Wanda stands up awkwardly.

"It's medicinal, Miss Harkness." Wanda lies - somewhat - for you, patting you gently on the back. Agatha raises an eyebrow.

"Do me a favor and bring the lunch trays for your classmates in the cafeteria that the school left prepared. I need a break from those petty little monsters."

Wanda nods but you hesitate. "Ma'am, what about..."

Agatha takes a short drag in defiance, and as soon as she blows the air up, she repeats "The food, Miss L/N."

You chuckle at the scene and don't insist because Wanda pulls you by the hand into the school again.

The walk to the cafeteria is filled with laughter and jokes, you and Wanda finding Harkness' posturing amusing, but not the least bit surprised. She was known to be the coolest teacher in the place anyway.

The snack trays were on carts, and it didn't take you long to locate them. But once Wanda had her hands on the first cart, you - who was standing next to her - asked her a question that took her completely by surprise.

"Is it true that you have a boyfriend?"

Wanda chuckles awkwardly, glancing at you. "Yeah, why?"

The way you look at her and then turn your gaze with a disappointing semblance already answers the question. Wanda swallows dryly, her stomach sinking. You force a chuckle, the squeeze on the stroller getting stronger.

"Well, now I feel silly."

Wanda can hear her heart racing in her chest, but she swallows her nervousness and tries to pretend she's not affected at all. "What are you talking about, Y/N?"

You look away. "I was calling you out on a date earlier today." Oh, of course, you were. God, Wanda felt so stupid. "Sorry about that, I didn't know you-"

"I wasn't offended." She quickly clarifies. "Not at all."

You nod, equally clumsily. "So... you like girls too?"

Wanda smiles, looking ahead. "I like people."

"I like people too, but girls make me extra nervous." You joke, making her chuckle in agreement.

You two exchange shy glances, before Wanda clears her throat. "We should take this inside before the gang starts getting aggressive." She plays along, getting out in front of you with the cart. You chuckle, following her with the other cart through the cafeteria and halls toward the auditorium.

Before you arrive, you stop and Wanda breaks off out of curiosity. "Hey, things don't have to get weird between us, okay?" You start at once. "I think you're really cool, and being your friend would be enough."

Wanda hesitates. "Wouldn't that be selfish with you?"

You give her a sad smile, shrugging. "Don't worry, besides, I've heard that great love disappointments make great artists."

Wanda smiles. "Oh, and you would be the great artist?"

"Yeah, obviously."

"And that makes me what? The bitch who broke your heart?" She teases, but you chuckle, looking away.

"No, Wands, that makes you my muse." You retort casually as if you haven't caused an explosion inside her chest. "Come on, the folks are hungry."

You enter the auditorium, and Wanda spends the rest of the night trying to ignore the way her heart is beating fast inside the chest next to you.

Novi Grad, Wednesday, 11:14 am

"I don't know how they got the best stalls, but I can bet there's some kind of deal there."

Wanda was trying to pay attention to the whole conversation, but Vision's insistent messages on her cell phone were making her more irritated by the second. He was sitting across the courtyard with his fellow members of the Politics club, and he was bombarding her cell phone with questions about being ignored practically all weekend, and now at the school. 

He wanted answers that Wanda would only know how to retort with curses.

"You're damn right, Grey was hooking up with one of the boys from the Football Team. Of course, the two groups are protecting each other." Carol Danvers said, and Wanda raised her eyes from her cell phone immediately at the mention of Jean's name.

She was sitting next to Kate Bishop - whom she had officially met on Monday, who was a sophomore like her girlfriend Yelena. The two of them were participating in organizing the graduation committee in advance so that in their senior year they would have more peace of mind. But you commented to Wanda that Kate actually had money and didn't need to participate in any of this, but was doing it all so Yelena could have the experience. Wanda couldn't help but feel a little jealous of the two, Vision was not in the least bit willing to do anything of the sort for her.

"Where did you hear that?" The question escaped her lips before she could help it, and the group stared at her. She swallowed dryly. "I-I just didn't know Jean was dating. We...used to hang out together."

Maria Rambeau's eyes sparkled with interest. "Oh, really? Any chance of renewing that friendship? We could try to work out a deal for half the ticket sales for the games..."

"No, sorry, no chance." Wanda interrupts immediately, a blush of embarrassment hitting her cheeks. Maria is slightly disappointed, but no one in the group takes it to heart. Nat answers Wanda's question by saying that Jean and Scott Summers had been dating for a few weeks but that it was nothing official according to their Facebook relationship status. Wanda bites her tongue to avoid adding that Jean has never paid much attention to such things.

The girls continued talking - or complaining - about sales options to raise money, and Natasha was organizing something with toilet paper when Wanda's cell phone vibrated again.

"I don't get why you're behaving like this. Text me when you quit acting so childish."

She swallowed dryly and blocked the cell phone. She looked over to where Vision was, but he was smiling as he was approached by Jean's group, who were handing out flyers about the football league games that would have the ticket sales going to their group's fundraiser.

"Are you going, Maximoff?"

Carol's voice drew her attention away from her boyfriend. She frowned.

"Sorry. Going where?"

The blonde smiled, not caring about the other's lack of attention. "Fundraising party next week. Kate has a fancy vacation home, everyone will want to peek in."

The younger one laughs, rolling her eyes. "I never said I could be the hostess." She recalls. "My mother hates parties. She travels a lot, but if she's in town and catches me doing something like that..."

"I can be the hostess." Wanda finds herself declaring, which surprises the group. She licks her lips. "I-if it's okay with Kate, of course. My house is pretty big, and my dad is never there. And my brother can join in-"

"Oh, he must! Pietro is a popular guy and if he's there, all his friends will be." The group quickly gets excited, and Wanda tries to ignore her trepidation in anticipation.

The last party she threw at her house didn't end well, but she was trying to be positive about everything. Especially since you gave her an assured wink from the opposite seat. But she noticed the way her heart skipped a beat, and maybe that idea was the worst of all.

Novi Grad, Thursday, 04:17 pm

Erik was concentrating on the papers spread out on his office desk, and Wanda had almost given up bothering him. But her father, even though he was busy, noticed his daughter's presence, and his expression brightened beyond exhaustion.

"Hi sweetheart, come on in." He asked, and she gave him a small smile, hands busy.

"I made tea." She says, handing him one of the mugs. Erik smiled in thanks, putting away some papers.

"Danke Schatz (Thank you, sweetheart)." Very often, Erik used his native language at home, and after so long, Wanda spoke it fluently. She nodded and stood beside her father. 

"Are you too busy, papa? I wanted to talk about something."

He smiled, taking a sip of tea before shaking his head. "I am never too busy for my children." It wasn't entirely true, but Wanda understood. She smiles a little, looking down at her feet.

"I joined the Graduation Committee at school." She tells and Erik lets out an immediately excited exclamation.

"Incredible darling! I imagine with Jean and the girls it's even more fun-"

"No, not really." She cuts off quickly, feeling uncomfortable but lacking the courage to meet her father's gaze. "They're part of another group so we won't see much of each other."

"Oh, no chance to rearrange to stay with your friends?"

Wanda forces a smile, trying to hide her pain. "Don't worry, papa, the girls in my group are my friends too. I like all of them."

"Well, if you say so." Erik comments casually, taking another sip of his tea. "I'd be happy to help with any outside fundraisers you guys organize, by the way." He lets her know, receiving a grateful nod. Wanda plays with the support of her cup, and Erik adds, " That' s all you wanted to tell me?"

She swallows dryly. "I was thinking of having a party." She says, and Erik raises an eyebrow. She takes courage before she loses it for good. "It would be a fundraiser, papa. We have a nice house, and the school kids would use the pool and-"

"I understand, Wanda." He cuts her off gently. "In my youth, many of my classmates loved to visit my house. But I hope you are surrounding yourself with people who like you, and not your pool."

Wanda smiles, looking down. "I am, I hope so at least." She comments, and he smiles. He leaves the teacup on the table and reaches out a hand to hold his daughter's.

"I will trust your organization, and expect a clean house when I return." He directs, and Wanda nods in understanding. But Erik does not release her hand, caressing the skin tenderly. "Are you sure that was all, dear? You have been looking so gloomy to me lately..."

Wanda frowns in confusion, resisting pulling her hand away and getting into a completely defensive posture. It's a tough fight. 

"What? No, I'm fine!" She assures with a forced smile. "Actually, I should-I want to, introduce you to someone. I'm actually dating now."

"Oh, that's some news." Erik says with a surprised laugh. "A boy?"

It's Wanda's turn to laugh. "Yes, Papa, a boy."

Erik lets go of her hand, sighing slightly. "Well, I must say I'm a little upset. When you came out, I was rooting for the boys to be out of the game..."

"Papa!" Wanda exclaims in a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief. Erik chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.

"What, I just worry about grandchildren, Wanda! I don't want you compromising your future on a child now. And you'd be amazed at how many births I deliver in teenagers-"

"Okay, please, let's not have that conversation again." She cuts in with a nervous laugh, "I'll just set up a dinner date with you and my boyfriend, okay, tell me a day that you can."

"Yes, ma'am." Erik retorts with false seriousness that makes her laugh. She rolls her eyes and mutters for him to get back to work before leaving the room.

Novi Grad, Friday, 03:45 pm

The stadium was packed for the opening game, and Wanda had some difficulty getting through the crowd. Vision was pulling her hand tightly, not caring much about it.

"Come on, the guys got a seat upstairs." He warned over his shoulder. "I swear, if I find the idiot who made attendance at the first game mandatory, I'll murder-"

"Wanda!" Someone called out to her from the bottom row, and she gave Vision's hand a tug for him to stop, which the boy begrudgingly did. Natasha barely paid him any attention, hugging the girl by the shoulders for a moment. "Aren't you going to sit with us? We're in the fake cabin, Carol has team member advantages." Jokes the girl, but Wanda feels the grip on her hand grows stronger.

"No, I-"

"We already have seats." Vision answers for her moodily, but the grip loosens at the deadly stare he receives from Romanoff. 

"She can speak for herself, you know. It's allowed to in this century." Retorts the redhead, making Wanda chuckle. Vision grimaces.

"Take your pick then, Wanda. I'm going to sit down before some idiot spills beer on my sweater." He drops her hand in irritation and goes to take the high seats he has secured. Wanda tries to hide her discomfort by hugging her own body.

"Sorry about that Nat, he's usually nicer. But the admission dinner didn't go well and he's been cranky."

"And that's a reason to treat someone badly?" Retorts the redhead, and seeing her friend's hesitation, sighs. "Never mind, it's not my place to talk shit about your boyfriend who I don't even know. If you get the chance, try to convince as many of your friends as possible to buy foodstuff, okay? I don't know how, but Y/N got on Jean Grey's good side and we're getting a third of the food sales." Nat tells and Wanda finds herself clutching her arms tighter. 

"Oh, really?" She tries to sound casual.

Nat nods smiling. "Yep, if we're lucky she'll take Grey to bed and we'll split the profit 50/50." Natasha is clearly joking, but Wanda can't laugh. She looks away immediately.

"I should go, Vis is waiting. I'll see you after the game, I think, or Monday." She practically flees the scene, making her way to the higher seats.

Vision is very pleased that she has chosen to join him, and he tells her so as soon as she sits down with an arrogant 'I knew you were coming' before slipping his arm around her shoulders.

The game didn't take long to get started and the crowd seemed well wrapped up. Wanda was having a good time, though, watching the reactions.

"God this is so barbaric. Poor folks have fun over such pathetic hobbies." Vision commented beside her, her friends and brother grumbling in agreement. 

"You don't have to be so elitist all the time, Vision." She can hardly believe she had the nerve to call him out, her boyfriend much less. But his surprise only lasts half a second, soon he laughs and looks away.

"Do you even know what that word means, Miss Failure Grade?" He mocks, drawing laughter from the whole group. Wanda pushes his arm away and stands up. "Hey, come on, baby, it was just a joke!"

He tries to pull her by the arm, but Wanda pulls back and bumps into the bucket of popcorn on her boyfriend's lap, which flies down the row. With the small commotion, she slips away.

She suddenly feels so stupid. And her only reaction is to look for a place to hide her tears. Vision loses sight of her in the crowd, which is a great thing because she doesn't want to deal with him right now, and ignores his calls on her cell phone for the next few minutes.

Wanda finds a good hiding place behind the women's locker room which is completely empty because the game taking place meters away.

She tries to keep the tears inside but they fall regardless.

A nearby whistle makes her wipe her face quickly.

"I thought I heard someone skipping the mandatory game around here."

Your joke gets a weak laugh from her, and Wanda looks forward so that you don't see the state of her face, even though you know well that she was crying.

"Are you going to rat me out?" she challenges humorously, and you chuckle, putting your hands in your pockets.

"Nah, I'd have to turn myself in together." You say shrugging, approaching at a slow pace. "I'd rather skip the game with you if that's okay."

She nods, sniffling lightly. You stop beside her, shoulder to shoulder, and Wanda has to resist with all her willpower not to lean into the warmth of your body.

"It's okay, Y/N, I promise. It was just a silly fight." She says when she can feel you looking at her out of the corner of your eye. You press your lips together before sighing.

"Oh, thanks for clarifying, I do need to know the reason for your absence from the game to put in the committee report." You tease, and when Wanda is about to laugh, she starts to cry. 

"Fuck, I'm sorry." She gasps in a small sob, her head down as she tries to wipe her face. "I don't even know why I'm crying, I'm so fucking stupid-"

You stand in front of her, and your hands suddenly go to her face. Wanda falls silent immediately, staring at you. But all you do is smile at her tenderly, your fingers wiping away her tears. 

"I find myself compelled to disagree, Maximoff." You say gently. "I happen to think you are quite brilliant."

"I'm failing at school, I don't know how I made it all the way to senior year without being able to concentrate on anything-"

You shake your head. "Stop it." You interrupt her seriously, even though your tone is tender. "I don't know who made you believe you were less than extraordinary, Wanda, but you have to stop listening to them, and listen to me. I've known you for a few weeks and I already think you're remarkable. My very own muse." You joke last, making her smile. "In a year, I'll think you're more important than Beyonce."

Wanda bursts into laughter, hiding her face in your shoulder for a moment. "Is that your reference of most important person?"

"I would have said Natasha Romanoff, but I feel like she would spring up from the ground to choke me if I said you would be more important than her. My best friend is a very jealous person." 

Wanda chuckles. "I believe you."

You swallow dryly, seeming to become aware of the closeness. Your hands move away, and so do you. "You shouldn't let anyone convince you that you are inferior in any way, Wanda. You have to remember that."

She tries to push the nervousness away with a joke. "Is that motivational talk from the graduation committee?" She challenges, and you laugh.

"No, the graduation committee doesn't give a fuck." You retort. "But I do. And I'd say you're pretty incredible, as many times as you need to hear it."

Something warm forms in her chest, and Wanda thinks she might start crying again.

You just smile, and before she can thank you, the whistle for the first break is sounding around, and Wanda knows that the place will start filling up soon. She sniffles lightly. "I should go home."

"Do you need..."

"No, my brother." She interrupts guessing your question. It's not rude, she just looks exhausted. "Pietro can drive me home."

You nod, and Wanda, instead of walking away, comes closer. She kisses your cheek for a lingering moment and gives your arm a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, Y/N, really." She whispers. "I'll see you on Monday."

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #new romantics #alt er love series #skamverse collection #elizabeth olsen x reader

[idyllicdeco]

Go for a ride -PJM

Song: https://youtu.be/3LBt8iIEWks

MDI

Genre: smut

Pairing: Jiminx f! Reader

Word count: 1k

Warning ⚠️ : unprotected sex, car sex, temperature play?(just a little), teasing

Synopsis: what could happen when your boyfriend decides to take you for a ride?

!Clearly not proofread!

"Tsk, fuck this". Your heels we're getting on your last nerves. You didn't expect to be running today so your attire wasn't really appropriate. You were at an event which started hours ago and seemed like it just wouldn't end when you heard your phone buzz. Your boyfriend was calling you asking if you'd like to spend time with him when this whole juncture was ending. You couldn't wait to get out of there quicker so you announce your departure to your work colleagues and speed up towards the exit.

"And I thought I made you so impatient. Should've waited more before seeing you. My bad". You tried your best to focus on his words but his hand felt so cold against your skin, sending goosebumps through your entire body. The situation wasn't looking good for you. Your legs and arm all exposed, not to mention the way your dress wasn't allowing you to wear a bra, so the thin material would show your hardened nipples any second now.

You direct your attention from the road towards the driver. He was as pretty as ever. The all black suit he was wearing made you feel some type of way and it would be a crime to keep that to yourself.

You direct your attention from the road towards the driver. He was as pretty as ever. The all black suit he was wearing made you feel some type of way and it would be a crime to keep that to yourself.

You direct your attention from the road towards the driver. He was as pretty as ever. The all black suit he was wearing made you feel some type of way and it would be a crime to keep that to yourself.

You direct your attention from the road towards the driver. He was as pretty as ever. The all black suit he was wearing made you feel some type of way and it would be a crime to keep that to yourself.

"I'd love to see you dressed like that more often". His eyes make a double take at you, probably in surprise before collecting himself, looking back at the road with a smirk on his face, squeezing your thigh again.

"Why? Is that a kink of yours? Do you want me to fuck you dressed like this?". You choke. How could he say THAT in such nonchalant way. His hand is now moving higher, towards your hips but you stop him by gripping his wrist.

He freezes. Unsure if he made you uncomfortable with his comment or action or if you reacted like that out of embarrassment. You see the shift in his eyes so you quickly change your position so your body faces him more openly. You move your hand up and down his, caressing his arm. Leaning in as much as you can, you whisper in his ear.

"Why don't you tell me what you want, hmm?". Moving his palm between your legs, now flat against your underwear. You hear him exhale in frustration. Exactly the reaction you wanted to get out of him, not expecting his next move to be his fingers pressing hard between your folds before retracting his hand, making you whine. You don't get the chance to question him, yelping when he suddenly speeds up the car, driving like a maniac before making a u turn in a parking lot. He unbuckles the seat belt and does the same to yours.

"You see love... You shouldn't tempt me like that". His breath was hitting your face, his lips finding themselves a few centimetres away from yours. He signals you towards the back seats so without a word, both of you move in the back, the console of the car which kept you separated not representing a problem anymore.

"Like what you see?". You ask him the moment you saw his eyes scanning your outfit. The moment his eyes meet yours you feel like you lose all the confidence you had a moment ago. His stare was getting you hot, like you weren't complaining about how cold the leather was a few moments ago. You lean towards him, trying to start a kiss but he moves back, pinning your waist back onto the seat.

"Why do you like playing with me so much love? Do you enjoy teasing me that much? Is that it?". He leans in, placing kisses from your jaw down to your collar bones. Your dress was already hiked up, Jimins leg being now positioned between yours, sometimes pressing against you.

"Should I fuck that attitude out of you darling?"

His hands were travelling along your body, making you shiver at the sudden coldness. When he reaches down enough he moves his fingers along your waist, massaging your skin.

"Jimin" you whine in indignation making your boyfriend chuckle. When his fingers reach inside your underwear you throw your head back, barely hitting the window.

"Hmm? Already this wet?". His fingers were moving up and down between your folds, barely grazing your clit from time to time. "And I wanted to take my time with you". You whimper in surprise when he finally pushes to fingers inside, moving them quickly in a sloppy manner from all the wetness that was now dripping out of you. The squelching sound was too embarrassing but you couldn't even care about that at the moment, having to cover your mouth.

"That's right gorgeous. Just like that". It didn't take him long to find your g spot since he already knew every detail about your body, so the moment he thrusts his fingers into it your hands move to grip his hair.

Ah, he was so pretty. That suit that fitted him perfectly, the blonde hair and that perfect smile he always had on around you. All of these details made you go feral over him. Not to mention the way he was caressing your body with every chance he had, making sure you're feeling comfortable even in the limited space of his car. The way he never got lost in his pleasure, making sure you feel good, always making you his priority. Even now, when you were a moaning mess, dripping for him while his fingers were fucking into you, he didn't forget about your clit, having his thumb circle around it. You start pleading the moment you felt your high approaching, making your boyfriend alternate between a fast, shallow thrust and slow and deep ones, not giving you the chance to get accustomed, feeling your orgasm drift away.

"What is it pretty? Tell me what are you begging so desperately for". He already knew but oh how he loved to hear you beg for him to fuck you. It was boosting his already too big ego but you would lie if you said you didn't like the arrogant part of him too.

"Fuck me. I want your cock inside, please." He continues to play around a bit more before getting rid of your underwear, throwing it somewhere in the front seat. You hurry to unbuckle his belt and lower his pants only enough for him to slide his shaft out.

What a sight! The first few buttons of his shirt were undone, now being able to see his pecs. His hair was now sweaty, sticking to his forehead. The undone belt and his hard dick out. All this, only for you, in his car, your boyfriend

"As much as I love to see you admire me, I don't think I can wait anymore love". He slowly enters you, making sure to go as softly as possible, looking at your expression to make sure you're not in pain. After he is fully inside of you he waits for you to get accustomed to his length.

You felt so full and so warm. He was so deep and was radiating such warmth inside of you. You couldn't take this anymore so you start to move your hips, signaling Jimin to move already. He takes the cue and starts with deep sharp thrusts inside of you, making both  both of you moan. He was showing you no mercy, repeatedly touching all over your pleasure spots while his thumb resumed his action over your clit. You were already stimulated enough from his fingers so it takes both of you by surprise when your orgasm comes all of a sudden, making your thighs tremble in your boyfriends grip. He fucks you through your high and almost loses it when you clench around him but suddenly stops afterwards to look with a surprised expression at you.

"That was... so fucking hot." He leans down to kiss your face while his cock was still fully hard inside you. "Bet I can make you cum like that again my love?"

#fanfic #bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fluff #bts fic #jimin fic #hoseok smut #smut #imagines #drabble #jung hoseok #jhope smut #txt smut #txt fanfic #hoseok fluff #jeon jungkook #thebtswritersclub

[thecameronchronicles]

Foster Part Nine

TW: language. Angst. Perilous situations. Blood.  

SUMMARY: An ally, a lover, and a secret are tested. 

WORD COUNT: 900

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

The Foster Part 9

Kiara was the first to assess the scene. Her eyes immediately connecting to JJ, who was the farthest from the group. When realizing he wore too present of an expression to have been struck, she then looked to Pope, at her side, and then to John B. Instantly, his hands were rushing to you in the need to ensure you were alright. The second you understood your mutual well being was frail from only the recent events and not a projectile, your eyes continued to read into those around you. But it was only when Topper collected a failing Sarah that you understood the bullet struck her. Her body draped in his arms as he pulled her inside The Wreck. 

"Kie, call an ambulance-" Another shot ricocheted on the frame of the door as Pope pulled your hands towards her abdomen. 

"Apply pressure. Don't let up until the paramedics arrive." But as you looked down to Sarah, her eyes fluttering with the rapid blood loss staining your hands with the uncomfortable warmth, she only uttered broken apologies. Her voice was shaken, her eyes full of tears you craved to witness from your first interaction. And yet, all you wanted was for her to be alright. 

"It was Rafe…he shot her…" Topper uttered as silence fell after the initial chaos. Emotions high now a victim to the quietude as he moved to his feet. 

"You need to be here for Sarah-"

"If I don't go after him, Ward will ship him off to…the Bahamas or something…I can't let him go.." Before you could keep a grip, he was removed from the scene and you were left in wait as Sarah slipped out of consciousness. 

Pacing the floor of the waiting room, your nails ended up between your teeth in nervousness. A tick since you were younger, you tested the strength of your nails as you noticed John B finally making his way into the room. But as you wrapped yourself around him, expecting the warmth you'd known just prior to the gunshot, he wouldn't reciprocate. Instead, you found him lackluster in any form of support. He was limo against you. 

"John B-" He tensed as you spoke his name, moving past you and joining Kiara on the opposite side of the waiting room. 

For another few minutes, you analyzed them before watching him scoff and shake his head when looking in your direction. Disgust somewhere behind his usual doe eyes. 

"John B?" You finally stood before him until he moved out of the automatic doors of the urgent care unit. Your feet quick to follow behind. 

"When were you going to fucking tell me?!" He finally shot as you retracted your steps. Only a pair, before standing stilled. 

"John B…'

"You're a Cameron?! You're one of them?!"

"One of them?" Your eyes narrowed. 

"Rafe shot Sarah and then at us again…You show up out of nowhere…And Ward killed my father…and you just happen to share their DNA-" Your eyes swelled with tears. 

"What? Ward…" You reached out to try and console him before he separated you with Sarah's phone. 

"This was why she ran…" Setting it in your palm, you heard a conversation of an unidentifiable man speaking to Ward, a tone you could recall from the single visit he'd made to the Foster home when you were too young to understand. 

"You know it was an accident…It was never meant to-" Ward's voice was interrupted. "Big John got greedy so I did what I had to…No…she's not in town yet. She's close enough to them. No he has no idea…but she'll tell us what we need to know…just give her time to get close…" Your eyes widened. 

"John B-"

"I trusted you…With the gold…the compass..me…" Tears formed behind his eyes as JJ, Kiara, and Pope finally made their way outside. 

"You're a Cameron. The same blood who killed my father. As far as I'm concerned, you're responsible-" To the attempt you made to convince him otherwise, your name was spoken behind you. 

"What?!" But the instant you turned, you found police wrapping your arms behind your back. Handcuffs keeping you contained as you were read your rights. A multitude of charges that became background noise as you watched John B and his friends eye you as you were driven away. 

It would take two days before you shared that room with Isabel again. Although it had been less than a week and you hadn't expected much, nothing had changed. You were the same before you existed as prior, only now with the knowledge of what remained in The Outer Banks. 

The treasure hunt. The veiled truth. John B. You had to clear your name. Not even so much for yourself as it had been for John B. For his father. For the sake of honesty itself. And so you had to wait to try and escape once more. Only now, if was more difficult with barred windows and a strict curfew. Each foster child held the mission to keep an eye on you as you kept yourself as busy as possible to try and lower their suspicions. At night beneath the covers, you'd stolen Isabel's phone to research the news of Sarah, leaning she was in stable condition as of a few hours ago. A breath of relief came before a text came over the top of the phone. Your eyes narrowing at its contents. 

"I'll be there soon. Good job." It wasn't until you scrolled higher in the messages that your stomach twisted. The girl John B believed you were. The one to betray them was one you may not have trusted, but someone you knew. Someone who'd made a deal with the devil. And now the devil was coming to collect.

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916

MASTERLIST

JOHN B ROUTLEDGE MASTERLIST

THE FOSTERS MASTERLIST

MARCH MADNESS MASTERLIST

#john b routledge fanfiction #john b fanfiction #john b x reader #john b routledge #outer banks #outerbanks #obx #obx fanfiction #chase stokes

[insomniacdreammerbb]

Synopsis: A slow burn love story about my favorite chaotic Aries, Dieter Bravo 🦝❤️

Trigger Warnings: nothing too crazy in this chapter, touch of fluff and angst - mentions of domestic violence

Authors note: does anyone know if there’s a YouTube video/tutorial on how to use tumblr? I’m trying to learn the platform and there’s things I’d love to learn how to do to make my stories more organized on my profile/hyperlink chapters together but I can’t figure it out 😅

Word Count: 3.5k

The next morning while heading towards Vanity Fair’s office you were filled with an unsettling level of anxiety. You had awoken that morning and had told yourself that you would proceed as normal. Forgetting all about last nights events as it was only a one time thing and believing that your friendship with Dieter could continue on as normal. You glanced over at Dieter and it seemed that you were each as far away as possible from each other on opposite ends of the California king bed. His back was to you when you woke up. It was Dieter that had sent you spiraling into an pit of anxiety.

The morning had been quiet, filled with nothing more than casual good mornings and small talk. You had suggested going to get breakfast before the mid morning podcast Dieter was scheduled to attend but he turned it down stating that he wasn’t hungry. Dieter hardly even looked at you all morning as he mumbled that he was going to go take a shower. You knew when Dieter was acting different. He was standoffish and calm, two things that were the antithesis of Dieter Bravo. He barely even looked at you all morning and did nothing more than mumble at you.

That was what had begun the spiral in your head. Did Dieter regret last night? Did he not enjoy his time with you? Did he lie about how he’s never cum from someone going down on him? Did he even think you were pretty or was he just saying what he needed to get what he wanted out of you? No, Dieter wouldn’t do that to you. To you of all people, you’d been friends for ten years. But then again, Dieter was notorious for saying whatever he needed to say to get women into his bed. Were you now just another idiot that fell for his bullshit? Did you just ruin your whole friendship with him over one stupid night.

What if someone found out about last night? What if Lola found out or a gossip magazine. You could already picture your face on the cover with some headline talking about how you were another dumbass falling for a superstar. What about your job? You remember the addendums in your contract with CAA that strictly forbade you from having a relationship with Dieter. What if someone found out about what happened. What if someone from the hotel staff told someone at CAA? What if Dieter told them? You’d be fired. You’d be worse off than fired, you’d never be able to get another job in entertainment if someone found out about it. You’d fall behind on your rent, your savings would run out quick, you’re bills would go into collections-

Your cell phone ringing nearly made yourself jump out of your own skin. You raced across the common area and grabbed it off the table near the front door. You answered quickly, it was Vanity Fair confirming that you’d be arriving thirty minutes before the podcast was scheduled to being which you confirmed.

Dieter was spiraling into his own version of hell. He stood underneath the hot shower and had his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously. He had tried to hide his hard on from you all morning. He woke up before you did. He spent a good ten minutes staring at you. You looked so beautiful and peaceful. Once you started to stir he quickly turned his back to you and pretended to be asleep. He could feel his face redden with embarrassment but he couldn't pin down exactly why he felt embarrassed.

Truth is he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to gently climb on top of you while you sleep, spread your legs and wake you up with his tongue on your pussy. He needed to hear you moaning his name. He started to think about all the things he wanted to do to you. He wanted to fuck you into that mattress before the two of you even had a chance to say good morning. He wanted to tell you how fucking beautiful you look. He wanted you here, in this shower with him. He wanted to see your tits up against the glass wall as he fucked you from behind. More than that, he wanted to kiss you softly under this shower and tell you that he loved you.

He felt catatonic this morning. But that was only because his mind was consumed with a fantasy. He pictured taking you out on the dinner cruise, watching the sunset on the ship after dinner with his arms wrapped around waist. He started picturing looking up at you on one knee presenting you with a ring, asking you to be his wife. He pictured you in a white dress, walking towards him and standing before all your friends and family as he made you his wife. He pictured whisking you away on a trip around the world where the two of you would make love in every country and operate on your own schedule instead of a filming schedule. Going to art galleries, drinking wine and going out dancing through the night. He pictured you in his kitchen, sitting at his dining room table with a high chair feeding his baby while he baked those dinosaur chicken nuggets Dieter loved for your toddler. Suddenly a fantasy life that he suddenly realized he wanted flashed through his mind like a film reel.

All of that scared him to his core. He never even once pictured himself being a husband or a family man to any woman before. His whole life dream was making movies, fucking hot women, taking all the drugs and alcohol he wanted and partying his life away as a superstar actor. And then you made him cum harder than he has in years while you were blowing him and that sent Dieter spiraling.

Dieter took his hand off his cock and slapped himself across his own face. Reveling in the sting. He had to shake this off. So he got really good head from his best friend of ten years. Part of your agreement was that you two would act like nothing happened the next day. This wasn’t the first time where Dieter had gotten really good sex from someone and thought he was in love with her. Then any where from a couple of minutes to a couple of moths later the rose colored glasses would fade from view and Dieter would get bored or fuck it up somehow. He just had to shake this off, he had to shake you off.

Dieter giggled, shake you off. He wished you were in here shaking him off and that thought made him giggle through all his anxious spiraling. Dieter knew that you knew he was acting differently. As he wanted his fantasy life he knew that it would never happen. He was too much of a fuckup, he had to live the life that he had because he knew that if he tried to chase down his fantasy life with you he’d ruin yours. He had to act normal. So after spending a few mintues pumping furiously and picturing you on the edge of the bed, watching your tits bounce as Dieter fucked you, he finally came. It was a half ass orgasm, he didn’t feel the same sense of relief he usually did but it would hold him over for the day. He needed to act normal.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Dieter asked, stepping out of the bathroom fully dressed. His hair was damp and sticking up in ever direction.

You rolled your eyes at him and went to his backpack pulling a comb out of the front pocket.

“Yup,” you said with a hint of sarcasm in your voice and handed off the comb.

So you two were not going to talk about it? Ok cool, you thought. We’re not talking about it which is probably the way it needed to be.

“Do you have that whipped cream shit for my hair?” Dieter asked dragging the comb through his hair in different directions.

You chuckled at rolled your eyes at him again, only someone would Dieter would refer to mousse as whipped cream for hair. You reached into the backpack and tossed it to him. He took the can shaking it, hearing the small tin ball rattle in the can. He stopped and stared at the can quizzically, you sat on the sideline watching him trying to hold a small giggle.

“What do I do with this shit exactly?” He said turning to you.

“You think I know how to? Why didn’t you ask Coco to meet you here?” You pointed out running your hands through your own greasy hair.

“I texted her this morning before I got in the shower but she hasn’t answered me yet,” Dieter explained.

“Well you can’t just expect her to be ready for you last minute saturday morning,” you said sipping the coffee that you had ordered while Dieter was in the shower, “why didn’t you let me know you wanted your hair done for the podcast, I would have talked to Coco and worked it out.”

You usually were the one to let everyone on Dieter’s team know where to go and when to meet. Dieter needed his whole team to turn him from guy who wears the same Fleetwod Mac shirt for three days in a row to suave, sexy, stylish actor extraordinaire.

Dieter froze in front of the mirror, holding the can of whipped cream for hair in his hand. Since when did he care about doing his hair when he didn’t need to? Truth was he hated having to sit still for more than thirty minutes while his team styled him to perfection. He got hot and bored and you were usually there to show him funny raccoon memes and streamline him KitKats to keep him calm.

You could see that Dieter was spiraling in his own head. You stood up and walked over to him, taking the can from him. You were no Coco, you definitely couldn’t style his hair to dapper perfection but you knew that if he tried to style it himself he’d end up looking like an early 2000’s boy band with crunchy spiky hair.

“Do you want me to try to see if I can just swish it back?” You question him shaking the can.

“Ok,” Dieter said feeling himself hold his breath.

You sprayed some of the mousse in your hands, creating a perfect puff of the cream.

“C’mon you’re telling me that doesn’t look like whipped cream?” Dieter pointed out with his usually shit eating grin.

Fuck, this was going to be hard you thought to yourself. He’s got that shit eating grin on his face and his dimples here showing. Stop staring at him. You rubbed your hands together and started running it through Dieter’s hair.

A shiver ran down his spine as he felt your fingertips lighting combing through his hair. He had no choice but to look at your face, god you were so fucking beautiful. You scrunched your eye brows together slightly as you were concentrating on styling his hair the best you could. You ran your fingers over the tips of his ears trying to tame his mop of his hair. You were a lot more gentle and cautious than Coco was. His mind started started trailing to the idea of you running your hands through his hair after making you cum over and over.

After a few more puffs of cream in his hair and slicking it back but also pulling a few strands into his face to make it more stylish you were done.

“There,” you said, holding your hands up sticky from the mousse, “looks good.”

You quickly rinsed your hands and heard the sound of a slap coming from the common area. It was something you were used to Dieter would usually slap himself in the face if he was stressed out and having anxiety. You walked back out and headed towards your purse and pulled out a KitKat. Dieter had his back to you as he stood in front of the mirror with his sunglasses now on and rubbing his eyes. He was having withdrawals, you recognized it. You should get going.

“I’m gonna order you an Uber to drop you off at Vanity Fair,” you said now getting started on your phone, “you should be done by one thirty. Do you want me to order you another Uber to take you somewhere?”

“Uh no actually,” Dieter grumbled keeping his back to you, “actually I think I may take off for the rest of the weekend but I’ll be back by Tuesday.”

“Oh ok,” You say surprised, “where you going?”

“Uh well I-,” dieter said, starting to stumble over his words, “Nic texted me, he’s going to Fashion Week in New York and invited me and said he’s send his plane to pick me up.”

“Ok,” you responded with, you weren’t surprised to hear this.

You were used to dieter’s impromptu last minute trips with his friends.

“Did you need me for anything else?” You question him as you picked up your purse stringing it over your shoulder while still holding the KitKat.

“You’re leaving?” Dieter asked, his voice softening watching you from behind the darkened sunglasses.

“It’s the end of the month,” you point out, “and someone’s gotta make sure that your bills are paid and I’m finishing up the last details for your shoot next year.”

“Right,” Dieter said monotony as his eyes wandered down to the KitKat in your hands.

You walked towards him and held out the candy bar to him. He took it gratefully.

“You want half?” Dieter questioned raising one eye brow playfully.

“Absolutely not,” you shook your head back, “Kitkats are bottom tier candy for your me. It’s peanutbutter Twix or nothing at all for me.”

“You’re insane,” Dieter said tearing open the KitKat and taking a bit out of all four pieces at once.

“No what’s insane is the way that you eat the KitKat,” you said pointing to the full candy bar with one bite now missing, “you’re supposed to break it off into four pieces at eat them individually. You just taking a bite out of it like that, that’s serial killer vibes.”

Dieter mewled as he took another giant bit out of the candy bar from the opposite end so now that it had two opposing bites out of each end. He knew that this drove you crazy. And as much as his unusually way of eating the candy bar you couldn’t help but giggle at how obnoxiously charming he was.

“Bye Dee,” you say taking a step back, “I’ll see you Tuesday night?”

It sounded more like a question than a statement as you intended.

“Yeah,” Dieter nodded taking another bite out of the KitKat, “hey…have a good day.”

“You too,” you nod as you turned to exit his hotel suite feeling his eyes on you as you left.

Maybe pretending like nothing ever happened wouldn’t be as hard as you thought. When you got back to the guest house you went about your regular day. You finished up your laundry, paid all of Dieter’s bills for the month, made a few phone calls to some Hotels in Pittsburg booking Dieter’s stay for more than a year away for his shoot.

You were actually surprised at how normal life felt. You were unsure about how your relationship with Dieter would change now that you crossed a new boundary. He was being a little weird this morning but seemed to get over it. You always wondered if you’d have some big emotional shift from sharing a bed with Dieter. Of course he was amazing, you could feel your insides flutter at thinking about how tongue felt sliding through your folds. But you’ve heard him hook up with so many women and men over the years it wasn’t a surprise that he was skillful. But beyond that you didn’t feel much of anything else emotionally. You figured that was a good thing. The next few days passed by uneventfully. You didn’t get any new calls of texts for Dieter for the next few days. That meant that he was getting blitzed out of his mind, becoming more paranoid about his phone giving off radiation. Dieter knew better than to bother you whenever he was on one of his cocaine trips.

It wasn’t until you were gonna settle down on the couch with a glass of wine and pull up a show on Netflix that you heard the familiar beeping from the security system letting you know the front gate had been opened. You got up curiously and peered out the window beyond the curtains. You recognized Lola’s silver Audi driving up the drive way quickly and parking in front of Dieter’s front door.

You stepped out the front door of the guest house and started walking towards her, “he’s not here Lola, you should leave.”

“Yeah like I’m really going to take orders from the help,” Lola said rolling her eyes and pulled out a brick that had a ornate jeweled necklace around it and threw the brick staring through the windows on the front door shattering it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You screamed at her looking from her to the broken door.

“That asshole bought me that necklace for Christmas,” she huffed, crossing her arms, “figured it’s time I return it seeing as he and I are no longer together.”

“Bitch please the two of you haven’t been together since the day you met,” you stated feeling bold, “the constant breaking up and getting back together and hooking up is not a relationship.”

“Who the hell are you to talk to me like that?” Lola scowled, taking a step back.

“Who the hell are you to come to someone’s house and vandalize their property?” You said holding your arm up to the door, “if you got a problem with Dieter, fine, come here and yell at him but you don’t put your hands on him and vandalize his home!”

“Dieter’s the one who hit me first!” Lola yelled back.

“You’re a liar and I don’t believe that at all,” you said shaking your head, “and you’re so fucked up for saying that!”

“Go ask him!” Lola challenged, “and besides shouldn’t you be in crisis mode right now seeing as how you’re the sad pathetic little girl chasing him around cleaning up his shit?”

“What are you talking about?” You questioned her.

“Oh you haven’t heard yet have you?” Lola said with a new calmness in her voice, “just go look at your phone, it’s all over social media and TMZ even got the video. I’m sure that you’re going to be busy for the next few days.”

She turned on her high heels and she clacked her way back to her Audi, “tell that creep that we’re through for good. I’m serious, delete my phone number, block me off his social and tell that piece of shit of a human being that I don’t ever want to see his face ever again.”

Before you could respond her car revved to life as she drove down the drive way back out the property. You felt a spike of anxiety, what did she mean check social media? What video? You ran back to the guesthouse and grabbed your phone that was charging in the kitchen. You had several missed calls and about twelve texts for Dieter’s manager, his agent and his publicist. You opened up one of the texts from his manager that was a link to a video on TMZ.

The title of the video was what caught your attention first.

DIETER BRAVO SNORTING COKE OFF HIS NEW FIANCÉE, INSTAGRAM MODEL ASTRID COUREY BREASTS DURING N.Y.C FASHION WEEK. [VIDEO]

Fiancé? Oh god. This was bad. You couldn’t even bring yourself to watch it. What struck you first was a building sting behind your eyes with tears threatening to fall. You felt a pit in your stomach build and slowly sink, your heart beat started to quicken. It dawned on you then that you were feeling more emotionally and physically in this moment right now than when Matt had dumped you. It’s only been three days since you last saw Dieter and you’d never even heard of this woman till now. How the hell did Dieter get so blitzed out of his mind that he asked her to marry him?

You can’t be getting this upset over your boss. You needed to keep your emotions in check, after all your oral escapade was a one time thing. He didn’t owe you anything but it still opened up a chasm of hurt and betrayal in you. This is why Dieter Bravo wouldn’t be a good boyfriend to you and why you were better off friends. And with this hot new fresh scandal that was now trending on twitter and Instagram you knew it was going to be a busy few weeks of damage control.

Tag list: @bitchwitch1981

#dieter bravo #fanfiction #pedro pascal #dieter x reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader

[girldigital]

more on yankeeism

Here is a more concrete reason why New York is superior to London, even though my data is very limited: Dating.

Every single date I’ve had in New York has been sitcom-worthy. Sex and the City is truth!

Here’s a quick sample of my own experiences:

A – Lower East Side furniture designer. Tall Mexican cutie that looks like he took a page straight out of Fabrizio Moretti’s handbook: big tousled hair, motorcycle leather jacket, skinny-ish jeans, oxford boots (I think?). He also had lovely pouty lips to top off. He invited me to the New Museum. After our little tour, he brought me to the top floor, which was nothing but a balcony overlooking the city. We were the only ones there, standing on top of the world. I started filming, as I do, and he told me he had this polaroid camera he’d never used before at his place. He suggested I take a picture of him to keep and that he does the same, like the good old days. This being music to my ears, we went to his, took photos, he showed me his VHS collection and brought me to an 80’s themed bar nearby. We then went back to his, had perfectly serviceable sex and got brought back to reality by my ringing phone after what was seemingly 3 missed calls. V was already at the venue of the event I had gotten tickets for: Kerri Chandler B2B Chez Damier at the Knockdown Center, no less. So, A and I got dressed and went on our way. I spent the night listening to some of the greatest house music, making out with my pretty boyfriend of the night, discussing leftism and immortalizing on tape one of my favorite house music events to date. At around 3, we left. There was a couple sitting in front of us on the train, embracing after what seemed to have been a long night as well. Perhaps out of envy, I proceeded to rest my head on my temp boyfriend as well, as his eyes were losing their fight against sleep. We got back to his and I slept like a star.

M - Lower East Side jewellery/clothing designer. Short-ish (sorry!), twitter crush. Jewish Italian, how New Yowrk! Also has big tousled hair and nice lips, maybe that’s the Manhattan boy look. We initially met in Montreal while he was touring with this DJ I’d been following for a while. Funny how I used to be a fan. He invited me to an event his friend was playing at at ____. I didn’t have american cash, nor Zelle, nor Cashapp, nor Venmo in order to get in (you’d think I’d be guestlist but whatever). This guy after me then chooses to pay for me, I thank him and go inside the venue. Shortly after, I join my boy of the night and the guy who paid for my entry comes up to us. I thank him again, and he starts saying words of flattery to M, wearing merch he designed. I can’t even begin to imagine how great M must’ve felt. A fan buying his girl his entry due to her prettiness. He’s winning across the board, and so am I in a way. I’m the trophy of the night. I see the DJ, he says nice to see me in a different city. We drink and dance and go back to his for the night, which despite clearly not being what I think he wanted, was fine by me. How could I forget to mention that calling him a minuteman would be complimentary; I honestly think it might be 30 seconds at best most times.

R – Originally from Los Angeles, this massive hunk was living in Williamsburg when we met. I’ve never met someone that fit more the description of a himbo, both inside and out. He had the deepest voice and the most limited vocabulary. Soho house member, “photographer” (if you can call barely pointing a camera at pretty girls that), podcaster and potential ex-sex addict. He was 6’3, had a buzzcut and was covered in American traditional tattoos. He, too, was Latino I think. We grabbed coffee and sat in this park - a quick Google search makes me believe it was McCarren park. I don’t remember much besides him calling me sexy every few minutes. As we were walking to his place, he was grabbing me tightly from under my shirt, complimenting my body and saying how It makes sense that I’m into action leading ladies as I look like one (slay). He was one of those men with a deeply carnivorous gaze, whose lust you could taste. Once we got to his very nice building, he took me to his rooftop. We started making out, and very quickly, I found myself on display in my underwear, in broad daylight, kissing this man like I wanted him. When he told me he couldn’t actually take me to his room, all I felt was relief. I was a bit bewildered as well, because how do you get me semi-naked after all these advances, knowing I’m leaving your city the day after, only to tell me “actually….. no sex”? As a guilt-riddled, potential lesbian though, that was great. I walked back to the Bed-Stuy place G had invited me to stay over at, with the best deal I could’ve hoped for: a sitcom-worthy date and no bad sex.

Meanwhile my dates in London have been:

Exchanged a few cocktails for head with this Australian guy that reminded me a lot of that one demon that was in my life (except hotter, obviously). Good looks, and lots in common, just didn’t care. Attraction level -100. I was in bed next to him thinking about the message I’d send Big later that day.

Got drinks with this guy from Manchester. After a bit of uninteresting blabber, I told him I had to leave soon because of work, without realizing it was actually still quite early as we barely had been together for 2 hours. I felt bad when I realized, but also, my God does time go by slow when you’re spending it with someone you don’t have chemistry with. I stopped feeling guilty when I remembered just how much I would’ve rather have stayed in bed that evening. Didn’t have to pay back the cocktails with head this time though, so that was nice.

And that’s it. 3 months in and no sight of my one true love. Not even that, but not even an episode worthy date. Just…boring, uneventful heterosexuality. What a bore. I feel like I’m back in Canada. Anyway, I do know I’m supposed to be a lesbian, it’s just much harder to get a hold on girls… And I feel qualified to say this, as a hard to get a hold of girl myself. Then there’s the fact that I’m corresponding with Big also fucking up the entire system, but that’s besides the point. Or maybe that’s the whole point. Ah

[ettadunham]

at last!!!! i played through my first ace attorney game and i'm delighted!

is ace attorney investigations: miles edgeworth (2009) the best first introduction to the series? probably not, but it's what the random generator picked, so it's what we're rolling with.

well, okay, so... i may or may not have played a little bit of the phoenix wright games by the time i'm writing this, but definitely not enough to get most references this game makes, lol. it did give me an insight into the franchise's mechanics though, and confirmed that they all share these same bones more or less.

there's a crime (usually a murder), you might even see in an intro who's the culprit, you collect evidence, make connections, most importantly though, you cross-examine a bunch of people, looking for flaws and contradictions in their statements.

the extra thing about investigations on that front seems to be well... the extra investigations. it mostly comes up in a so-called logic section where you can connect different clues together. this is a mechanic that's already a staple of a lot of detective games, except of course here connecting the wrong clues also punishes you through the game's penalty system. speaking of which...

oh my god, you do gotta be pulling clues out your ass sometimes. after a while, i dif get the hang of the game, and learned where to push (basically: almost everywhere if i wanted to be safe), and at which exact point i needed to present something i already knew was fishy, but maybe that statement actually isn't specific enough and i need to wait for another section of the game where this comes up with a more precise wording, and okay, why isn't this clue the right one??? it literally means what we want it to mean, aaaaaaaaaaa

but yes, i'm fine, and i didn't curse everyone and their moms at the end section of the game where i kept losing that one point i had in the penalty system at a certain point, and then the game loadad to a much earlier section, even when i manually saved after it, and i had to fast forward a bunch of steps every. single. time, and yes, i am fine, and i was fine, what do you mean i don'T sEEm fInE...

moving on. overall, i did have a lot of fun with this game! i enjoyed the mechanics (for the most part), the characters were delightful (franziska, my beloved <3), and their limited move sets and animations are truly something else. i now understand why these games have rewired so many people's brains i think.

the overall story that connects the 5 episodes also comes together quite nicely by the end, however, i did find the way the different episodes jumped back and forth through the timeline needlessly confusing. i love a nonlinear story, but here, i just had the constant sense that the game is probably breaking its own continuity every time. i can't even tell you if that was the case, but it did seem weird that the characters only seemed to have remember certain past events once we played through those episodes. it was a weird choice for sure.

unexpectedly, there's also a bit of what appears to be some character development for miles, and i liked how some of the relationships changed through the different episodes. there's a particular wolf man that really grew on me by the end especially.

in any case, good times all around! can only really recommend this one tbh, no complaints for me.

well...

except...

i really wish this game had a pc release, and i didn't have to play it on my phone.

yup, you heard that right, i played this game through my phone. it was originally released for the nintendo ds, but only got ported to android and ios so far. which does bum me out a bit, especially now, that i had a bit of playtime of some of the ace attorney games that had pc ports, and found it a much superior experience.

don't get me wrong, there's nothing missing with the mobile ports, the controls work perfectly in this medium, etc, but i find that for mobile games, you usually want something that a player can drop at a moment's notice, instead of something that has a more elaborate, longer narrative structure to it. this game probably worked perfectly for a handheld console, but a phone isn't really the same thing. you'll inevitably start thinking about closing the game to look at something else, or your battery gets drained, or there's a cut scene where you have to keep tapping your screen to avoid the screensaver kicking in, etc.

or maybe it's just me, and i'm the weird one for not knowing how to use my phone for gaming.

anyway, my conclusion stands though, this game is a delight, and i can't wait to play through more of the series.

take that!

#adventure game extravaganza #mse's playing adventure games #mse's playing ace attorney investigations: miles edgeworth #ace attorney investigations: miles edgeworth

[kyberphilosopher]

Fensterln

“I can’t get up. You’re sitting on top of me.”

Warning(s): some allusions to sex, explicit-ish language, fluff, reader has a whole ‘Black Cat’ thing going on. Word Count: 3273

Notes: This is a requested work. This is a headcanoned canon version of Superboy, meaning he is no version in particular and simply the character I figure as a whole. Reader can be any gender.

“Fensterln is when you have to climb through someone’s window in order to have sex with them, without their parents knowing about it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You know, most people think that climbing up the side of a building is easy. Like it’s nothing. They see it on TV, and in the movies, and in cartoons even, and they think, “That doesn’t look so bad!” because it doesn’t. Cartoons and actors don’t have to deal with the wind whipping their hair, constantly pushing their whole body all around, the butterflies of anxiousness making their heart thump, threatening the scenario of falling to their death. It’s terrifying. It takes a lot of skill, a lot of courage, and a lot of luck. 

“Shit.”

Your right hand releases from the glass, arm slowly swinging back until it’s at your side. The same sides foot follows this pattern of rotation, until only your left fingertips and toes are stuck to the wall of the building, suctioning you to life. Below you, hundreds and hundreds of feet, is an island of grass and sand, encompassed by a large body of water. Over the tidal waves chip chopping away, there’s a distance. And in that distance, is the city, just under the inky blackness of the midnight sky. 

Jump City, it’s called. You’re not too familiar with it. Most of your time is spent in Metropolis, or Gotham. Luckily, both of those cities have plenty of skyscrapers to practice scaling. One could say that you’d perfected the art of this sort of thing. The finger pads on your suit are sophisticatedly sticky, seamlessly letting you latch onto anything with grace. Your feet are the same. 

The wind hits your face like sharp needles, amplified by the cold air and the incline. Your hair whips around wildly, also different from how it flows, softly, in the movies. The harsh breeze roars in your ears, louder than the thousands of explosions you’ve heard in your lifetime. Although dangerous, nothing beats the view. Those thousands of lights in the distance, the cars, the buildings, this building that you’re on now. Titan’s Tower is far larger and closer and more important than anything else at the moment. 

“Okay then,” you mutter, twisting your body over to the right twice more, until finally both hands and feet are connecting against the glass in a stealthy, perfect crawling position. 

You work your way up, one foot and hand at the time. You resemble that of a spider, or perhaps a cat. One, two. One, two. 

His room is on one of the top floors, if not the top floor. From the two other times that you’ve done this, you remember the number of steps, the distance, the little cracks in the glass panes to look for so you know you’re close. Even from the outside, hundreds of feet up, hanging above death tantalizingly, you know exactly where you are and where you need to be. And you know, of course, that you are close. 

Your right hand leaves the wall once more and reaches down to the belt on your hips. “Coming, my love,” you mutter as you flip open a small pouch attached. From the inside you pull out a slim switchblade, made specifically to cut through glass walls like this- designed it yourself. 

The knife springs open. In a circle big enough to fit your entire body, you trace the blade in a wide arc from up to down, left to right. Then you flip the blade back inside, place the whole thing back into the pouch on the belt, and shove your left elbow against the middle of the glass in front of you. 

It pops free immediately. The circle of wall falls forward into the room, with you not far behind.

Landing like a gymnast on your toes with your arms overhead, you are immune to the sharp pain in your femurs that comes from a sudden pressure like this. The glass pane is still intact on the floor ahead of you, which is coated with a red carpet that you recognize so well. It’s much warmer inside than it was outside, although you can still feel the night wind from behind you.

“Silent,” a voice remarks from beside you. It’s not an amused tone, really. It’s genuine and full of awe, surrounded by something casual. 

You hum as you stand before throwing a look over your shoulder. Sure enough at your back, splayed casually on a bed against the wall you just broke through, is your favorite boy toy. Dark, curly hair framing his classically handsome face, nose scrunching slightly on instinct. He’s wearing the black and red super shirt he always does, coupled with the plaid pajama bottoms you’d gotten him as a gift in spring.

You want so badly to quip something back, but you both know you can’t right now. Not when you’re so close to the door. And yeah, that’s partially Conner’s fault, if not all. Too much noise would attract the attention of his team mates, the Titans, and then something probably not that great would happen. Maybe they’d throw you out. Maybe they’d fire him. Maybe things would just get weird. It’s not as if you and Connor are an official couple, even after all this time. You could stop sneaking around to see each other at any sense of danger.

You take a step towards the bed he lays on, noting the big, bright smile that lights up Superboy’s face at the motion. “Can you fix the hole?” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

Conner’s eyes go wide and the smile gets bigger.

“In the wall.”

The smile turns into an eye roll. “Yes,” he sighs, almost dramatically, pushing himself up. The boy crosses to the center of the room a few feet from you and begins picking up the perfect circle of cut window- wall while you look around the area.

You’ve snuck into Conner’s room before. Twice, in fact. It’s not clean, not horribly messy. His leather jacket is usually hanging off the dresser or door handle. Sweatshirts of different colors are littering the floor in a collective pile. It looks like a normal teenage boys room, really. It just feels very ‘Conner’.

First, he pushes the glass back into place in the wall, then he takes a few steps back. You throw him a smirk, nudging your head to encourage him to do the thing.

Conner’s eyes heat up. Little at first, as a soft yellow. Then into an all consuming scarlet that hisses out in two beams meeting in the middle between them. They move in a circle around the pane until you can’t even tell it was ever not there, and the wind you once heard no longer exists. The wall is perfectly in tact.

“Thank you, Superboy,” you tell him, tone laced overly sweet. Your hands, freezing from the cold even through the gloves of your costume, wrap around Conner’s upper arm.

“Yeah,” he tosses, back, voice low. His cheeks are turning pink.

You unhook your arms and saunter over to his mattress. As you throw yourself on and relax as you sink into the pillows, you let your eyes close. “You’re lucky I like you so much,” you tease. “Mm, do you know a lot of people who would climb up the Tower for you? I don’t.”

Upon hearing him take a single step forward, one eye pops open. “I know you missed me,” you continue.

Conner lays himself on the bed beside you, hands behind his bed with his arms bent. You turn to face him, propping your head up with your palm.

“You never answer my texts,” Conner says, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“You text me?” you smirk, watching Superboys eyes sink close as he releases a sigh of defeat.

Your left leg slips over Conner’s hips. Then you pull your whole body up and over into a straddle over him, looking down at him. He’s handsome in the way nobody can argue with, so perfect and soft and structured. When you squint, he looks like Superman. But Conner’s not Superman, he’s better. You can’t explain why, or how, but he just is.

You place your palms forward on his chest at first, then backwards, behind your back, on Conner’s thighs. Your chest puffs out at the slight change of position.

Below you, the boy bites his lower lip softly in thought for a second. “What if I got you a phone?” Conner asks you. His light eyes holding yours through thick, dark lashes. “Just so you can text me back sometimes?”

“Us?” you gasp with wide eyes. “Talking? During the daytime?”

Conner glances away. “Message received. Very funny. Forget it.”

“I’m messing with you,” you promise with a smile. “Loosen up Super-Annoy.”

“So you’ll let me get you one?” Conner pushes himself up with a snap, eyes wide with some kind of excitement.

Well… would you? You haven’t had a lot of long term partners, if any. Your time with Conner has been the longest with anyone, and he’s not even really your boyfriend. He’s just… you know… the guy you kissed on a rooftop one night. The guy who once surprised you with a cone of ice cream, again on a night time rooftop, whilst you were sitting on the side of the building to watch the city below. The guy who remembered your birthday, the guy who keeps sending you the many, many texts reminding you that you can watch your favorite show on the TV in the tower. The guy who once lied to get you to ice skate with him.

Something about Conner has been enough to keep you hooked for months and months, always coming back. Sneaking into the Tower, taking more and more trips to Jump City, keeping notes of events throughout your week to tell him about when you see him. 

How silly. Never giving the time of day to any other partner of yours, but for Conner? Conner has gotten at least eight months of it. 

“I’ll think about it,” you roll your eyes. 

“You promise?” Conner urges. 

“Yes. Jeez, I promise. I will think about letting you get me a phone that only you have the number to.”

“Please don’t laugh at me about this.”

“I’m not laughing at you.”

“It feels like it.”

“Connor,” you clasp a hand on his shoulder, pushing back laughter. “Have I ever laughed at you?”

“W- Is that- is that a serious question?” Conner’s eyebrows raise. 

“Get up,” you roll your neck. “I want to change positions.”

The boy below you shifts. For a quick moment, something pokes between your hips from underneath. Your pupils dilate in response, but by the time they finish, the movement has ceased. “Tell me about your day.”

“I want to lay down,” you say as you stretch. “I just scaled up the side of the skyscraper-”

“You love it.”

“-and it was oh, so cold. I’m tired.”

“That’s not your day.”

You just stare at him expectantly, not quite sure what it is you’re waiting for. 

“I can’t get up. You’re sitting on top of me,” Conner concedes. “You chose to be up there.”

“Prove it,” you challenge.

“Yeah, yeah,” the boy below you hisses as if annoyed. “I get it,” he says, but his arms are already snaking around your torso to pull you close and slowly pull you into a new position. 

You lay on your side, back against Conner’s broad chest. His arms stay wrapped around your middle as he curls up against you on instinct, legs quick to tangle with your own. You know he must really be interested in you if he’s not going to mention that your ‘work’ shoes are still on while in bed. 

“You’re an ass,” he mutters into your hair. 

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Ha,” you chuckle once. “Douche.”

“Please tell me about your day now?” you hear Conner almost plead. “Please?”

One of your hands, your right one, rests on top of Conner’s against your stomach. “Oh, you know. The usual. I helped out a small jewelry store today, snuck into a big building, currently hiding from Nightwing- you know how it is.”

“There wasn’t much crime today. I mostly just stayed in. You know that big building you snuck into?”

“Such a douche,” you breathe.

“Jealous much?” Superboy rumbles against your ear. 

“I’m gonna tell Dick,” you tell him. “I’ll send an anonymous tip that one of the Titan’s is a big poop face.”

Conner puts his whole face in your hair. “Shiver me timbers.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not fair you guys get a whole building to yourselves. What are you even using half these floors for? People in Gotham are struggling.” You frown. “Well, except for Wayne. But you know what? He’s a douche too. You’d get along.”

Conner squeezes you once. Then you feel him still from behind you, not even breathing. And then-

“Move in then.”

At once, your brows furrow. “What?”

Your companion squeezes you once more. “Move in. Move in with me. In the Tower.”

Your mouth opens and closes a couple times, eyes looking around. You can’t see Conner, but you can feel him out. His eyes are closed, still inhaling the scent of you shamelessly. It’s hard for people to catch you off guard, not just like this, but at all. You just have that sarcastic, witty, sultry reputation. And for him- Super-Annoy, of all people- to just throw you off so easily?

“I’m not a Titan,” you decide on explaining, almost asking. 

“Become one, then.”

“I don’t have the money to move in. The rent must be crazy.”

“I’ll pay for you.”

“Conner,” you swallow. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking.” His head pops up. When you turn yours a little, you can look up at him, and he can look down at you. “Move into the Tower.”

Now your eyes are wide, and his are relaxed. No, Conner’s are focused, drilling into your own. “I’m... hardly Titan’s material.”

This was true. You’ve been skirting the gray line far longer than you’ve known Superboy, and he’s been super since the beginning of his creation. The first time you’d met was about ten seconds before you’d robbed a bank and sent him a wink before disappearing. 

“You just told me, not five minutes ago, that you helped a small business. Helping people is what heroes are all about. You can do this, Y/N. You are Titan’s material.”

Shit. He’s right. 

“Why not?” Conner questions. 

“I... um...”

You’ve never lived with another person before. Your family, once upon a time, sure. Not friends. Not Dick Grayson, or Kori, or Rachel fucking Roth. And certainly not Superboy- Super-Annoy. Not someone you have a ‘thing’ with. What would that mean for the two of you? And when things go terribly, terribly wrong, what then?

Gotta’ think fast. 

Your face is wiped clean, replaced by your signature smirk. “Get me a phone first. Then I’ll consider it.”

Conner doesn’t budge though. You wonder if X-Ray vision can see through lies too. “I mean it,” the boy tells you. “I want you here.”

“I have to survive the night in the building with boy prodigy and star flame.”

“Starfire.”

“Whatever. I have to do that first. There’s a reason we sneak me in, you know.”

Your free hand reaches up and cups Conner’s cheek without you telling it to. You ask your brain why, but yet, your palm doesn’t move. It feels over Conner’s cheekbones, encouraging you to look deeper into his somehow soft eyes. Your fingertips can even feel his hair, which is in need of a wash, as they get comfortable. 

“For you,” you finish the sentiment, voice now genuine- also not predicted. “Sneaking in for you.”

“I don’t want you to feel like a secret,” the boy above you whispers, pouring his entire heart into it. 

You answer with a snort. 

If anything, Conner’s the secret. If he had his way, the two of you would probably be on your honeymoon at this moment. Hell, your whole relationship and subsequent marriage would be a honeymoon. You’re the one letting him follow you around. You’re the one never giving him just what he wants. 

But then again, you’re the one who keeps coming back. Conner’s the one that never left. 

“Trust me,” you nod with a humored grin. “I don’t.”

Conner sighs and falls back down to rest behind  you. “Good.”

Besides his breathing, then there is silence. 

Really? Telling you to move in? Of course it doesn’t seem like such a big deal to him. Of course he has the solution to all the reasons why not. Your fairly certain that Conner hasn’t thought about this until mentioning it, but even then, how did he have all the answers so fast? Where would you stay? With him? Sandwiched between Conner and Wally West playing video games for the rest of your life? Dying after Donna Troy catches you accidentally stealing her lunch?

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Conner begins, “but you should really stay the night.”

In response, you practically burst. “You hate being told what to do!” you say as you squirm in his arms. “Now you’re giving me suggestions?”

Conner sits up again so he can look down at you with a little frown. Luckily, it’s too nice of a view to be really scared of anything he could do. “Shh! You’re gonna get caught, Y/N.” Then Superboy’s eyes widen a little. “If you lived here, you wouldn’t have to be so quiet, either. You could just come through the front door.”

“Oh my God,” you squeeze your eyes closed. “Conner...”

One battle at a time. 

“Fine,” you begrudge. “I’ll stay the night.”

Conner tightens his grip around your form happily in response. “Will you need any help in the morning?”

“No. No, I got it.”

Silence. 

Say it. Say it. Say it. 

“Conner? I, uh...”

Say it. 

“I don’t have any sleeping clothes,” you lie. 

“Sleeping?” you hear the boy behind you whisper. “I didn’t think we were going to be sleeping.”

“Now who’s going to get us in trouble?” you smirk. “Seriously though. I’ve been wearing my suit all day.”

“I can get you out of it.”

“You can’t just see through it?” you question. “Don’t you have X-Ray vision?”

Conner groans. “You’re ruining it.”

You smile. Conner’s the only partner of yours you realize you’re actually happy to be around. “I think you just want us to get caught.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Yayyy. Request finished. Next I have a Reverse Flash request, and then I should be good with the DC requests for now. Other than that I have some Jason Todd things, something for Damian and 2 fics for a character I haven’t written for before but are looking pretty good. I hope this satisfied the prompt that I was given in the request. Let me know anything you want or whatever. 

#superboy x reader #superboy imagine #superboy imagines #conner Kent x reader #connor Kent x reader #connor Kent imagine #connor Kent imagines #conner kent imagine #conner Kent imagines #fluff #x reader #superboy fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #superboy fanfic #superboy fic #connor Kent fanfiction #conner Kent fanfiction #dc comics x reader #dc comics fanfiction #connor Kent fluff #superboy fluff #Titans x reader #Titans fanfiction #Titans fanfic #connor kent #conner kent #superboy smut #connor kent smut

[twistedmusings]

A/N: Planning to post some finished requests tonight thankfully but I wanted to share something super self indulgent with you guys since I just recently got an Alexa! I'm still kind of in a funk (since classes are STILL not over with) so thank you everyone for your kind words in my inbox q wq For now I only have Riddle and Leona...but if everyone likes it I'll make an effort to finish! I kinda am working on Azul's as we speak >:3 Warnings: Boys missing you terribly, Riddle justifying the breaking of rules and Leona realizing that he is talking to an inanimate object.

The Ramshackle Prefect leaves to go to RSA for a month, following a lead that could get them back home. And while the dorm leaders do miss them terribly, it seems one of them is hiding something.

. .

“AZUL-SHI DO SOMETHING.”

The Octavinelle dorm leader barely listened to his friend's request as he also crowded over Idia’s phone, the other five dorm leaders looking down at the screen as a pair of familiar eyes stared back at them.

“Where is Idia? Can you please hand me back to him?”

Riddle blinked at the sprite on the screen before looking back at Idia with a frown.

“Explain yourself, Shroud.”

Idia whimpered as he hung his head low in shame.

“[Y/N]-san...I mean...the Prefect left to go to RSA for a whole month, right? Crowley said it was to help them find a way back home but apparently there was some trouble there too and...and he brought them to fix it...”

Malleus’s neutral expression changes into something a bit sadder while Kalim lets out what everybody was thinking.

“To take them away so suddenly...I didn’t even get a chance to give them a goodbye party!”

“They’re only away for a month, Kalim.” Vil’s eyes stay on Idia’s phone screen.

“But I’m sure a party would have let them know how much I would miss them!”

Riddle clears his throat, “That still doesn’t explain anything about what I am seeing. Why in the world do you have something that looks like...that looks so much like them on your phone!”

Idia was sure this was hell. Of all the people to catch him using his phone during a dorm leader meeting, why did it have to be Riddle? What was he even supposed to answer to that question! That he missed talking to [Y/N]-san about the new animes that were releasing this week that he had purposefully made an AI from data Ortho had collected on them and their mannerisms?

He would rather die!

“I--I was testing a new AI! Just...for schedules and stuff like that! And I didn’t have anything else to base it on so I just took [Y/N]-san’s information and made a prototype! It’s not just going to go out to the public like that! They can customize it however they like--!”

Azul hums as he taps the screen, the sprite giggling as he touches their cheek before looking up at all of them expectantly.

“...A prototype, huh.” he smiles and leans back while taking his phone out, “Everybody stop crowding around him, we might as well be breaking his arm slowly at this point.”

The rest of the dorm leader's move back with only some protest, Idia’s eyes shining as he looks up at his other friend.

“Azul-shi…”

The dorm leader of Octavinelle grins, “If it’s a prototype then that means it needs users, correct? More people to test it out?”

“Eh?”

Azul puts his phone in front of Idia and smiles at him like he was just about to close a rather important business transaction.

“Well then I want the prototype as well. Download it to my phone, will you?”

“Eh?!”

Idia presses his phone to his chest as if Azul was about to take it, looking around nervously as the other dorm leaders take their phones out and set it in front of him.

“If it’s an application for scheduling then I could use it to keep Heartslabyul’s matters in check. I’ll take one too.”

“Ruggie is gonna be busy during exams...this thing better work as an alarm.”

“Surely this would help me keep track of my schedule for both the Monstro Lounge and school. I’ll take one with a statistics program built in, Idia”

“Oh!! I want mine to be able to sing! And can I also get them in Scarabia’s dorm uniform? I want to see what [Y/N]-san would look like!’

“I’ll take that as well. I also want a photo re-touch feature as well as one hour updates as to what is going on in my Magicam account.”

Each phone was placed in front of him as Idia felt his head start to spin. He just wanted to keep this thing a secret only for himself! He wasn’t even planning to release it, it was all just a lie so they wouldn’t know his greatest shame!

A shadow was casted over him, Idia looking up slowly as Malleus smiled and placed his phone down.

“I am eager to see your finished product, Shroud.”

The tarts in front of him looked absolutely delicious.

Trey had really outdone himself this time. The strawberries were cut into perfectly neat shapes and the glaze over them made them so mouth wateringly shiny that he could practically taste the sweet treat without even having to taste it!

Which only made his want of one grow even more.

“And here comes the next batch.” Trey smiles as he puts down another plate in front of him, Riddle’s eyes now staring at that plate while his vice dorm leader cleans himself up.

“When did you say the Unbirthday party was going to be today?”

“A-At three o’clock sharp.”

Trey nods as he looks at the clock in the kitchen.

“Perfect. I promised to meet Jade to get some herbs he has been growing as well as letting him teach me how to make this one soup they had in the Monstro Lounge about a week ago.”

He grabs his phone and heads out, leaving Riddle with a quick goodbye and a promise that he would make it back as quick as possible.

Leaving him all alone with two plates filled with his favourite treat.

The dorm leader looks around once...then twice...checking if anybody was coming into the kitchen before going back to stare at the plates.

It wasn’t like he was going to grab one

The Unbirthday party today would be using pastries that Trey had made yesterday. It was the third of the month so the rules required a completely different pastry. The strawberry tarts were most likely for tomorrow.

So Riddle could wait. He was the Heartslabyul dorm leader after all so not only could he wait but he was required to wait! As the dorm leader he was to set an example and he couldn’t let himself be seduced so easily by just two plates of such yummy looking tarts--!

He quickly takes his phone out and looks down at the screen, face flushing as he tries to remember how Idia told him to open up the new app.

“[Y/N]-san…?”

A face peeks out from the corner of his phone, smiling as it recognizes his face and steps out while giving him a polite bow.

“Good morning, Riddle-san! What can I help you with?”

He can’t help a small rush of excitement at seeing the Prefect’s face after not seeing them for two weeks. Riddle would make an effort to stop and talk to them whenever they made their way to Heartslabyul that not seeing them for so long had almost thrown him off his schedule.

And...he missed the conversations he had with them.

As the dorm leader and a student in NRC he didn’t necessarily have time to go to any other events or take part in any of the shenanigans others would get up to, not that he necessarily wanted to, but it was entertaining when the Prefect talked about it with him.

It felt like they were letting him into their world.

So maybe this substitute would suffice...it was a scheduling app after all so it wasn’t like he was using it for pleasure only.

“Would you please repeat rule 56 of the Queen’s handbook?”

The AI clears their throat as a book animation appears before them.

“Rule number 56: On the third of April, black tea should be served along with pineapple tarts. Followed by a game of cards in which the loser must pour the Queen tea for the rest of the Unbirthday party.”

Riddle sighs as he looks back at the plate of tarts.

“...I guess I’ll wait until tomorrow…”

“Wait until what?”

He looks down at the AI, the sprite blinking in confusion as it waits for an answer. Idia had mentioned adding a conversational feature…

“There is no rule about what to eat tomorrow so I decided that we would have strawberry tarts.”

“Are those your favourite?”

Riddle nods and steps out of the kitchen, making his way to his room as he stared back at the open door.

“They are. Ever since I was little. I couldn’t have many because of--”

He decides to not go deep into the subject.

“I’m sure Trey’s pineapple tarts will be excellent. I will just have to wait until tomorrow to enjoy the strawberry ones.”

The AI hums before the book animation pops up again, looking down and flipping a couple of pages before speaking up.

“Riddle-san. While it does say that black tea should be served with pineapple tarts...it does state that it should be done for the Unbirthday party and the Unbirthday party only.”

He frowns, “Your point?”

“I am sure no rule would be broken if only the Queen has a tea party before the Unbirthday party. From what I am seeing here--”

They flip a couple more pages.

“There is no rule about a tea party of one enjoying a strawberry tart.”

Riddle blinks before looking down at his phone, the sprite smiling as they shut the small book and lets it disappear with a ‘poof.’

No rule would be broken...if it was only a tea part of one?

He looks down at the AI when he hears them giggle.

“Riddle-san looks really happy.”

A blush covers his face at being called out on how big his smile probably was.

“Did I help in any way?”

The dorm leader takes a deep breath before smiling as he looks down at the phone and presses his fingertip on top of their head, rubbing it back and forth as if they were petting them. Something he knew he could never really do with them in real life lest he was looking to get odd looks.

“More than enough. Would you like to accompany me during this tea party?”

“Yes please!”

Riddle nods before looking around once more and clearing his throat.

“And...would you refer to me as ‘dorm leader’ from now on?”

The sprite nods as they give him a polite bow.

“Yes, dorm leader!”

He would need to send his report of the app as quickly as possible, Idia had really outdone himself this time...maybe he could ask if he could get them dressed up in the Heartslabyul uniform?

Riddle still wished you would hurry back.

“Leona-san! Please wake up!”

The blankets on the bed wriggled a bit as the phone was tousled over from one side of the bed to the other, the sprite inside frowning as they tried again.

“Leona-san! Please wake up! Ruggie-san texted you!”

A hand comes out of the blankets before holding the phone up.

“Read the text out loud then.”

Sighing, the AI pulls the text up and reads out loud.

“Please be awake by the time I get there, Leona. I need to make sure I get your signature on these papers for the dorm budget. If you don’t I’ll hold your lunch captive!”

Leona’s face finally pops up from under the blanket, the man sitting up and running a hand through his hair as he speaks up again.

‘Oi. What time is it?”

“It is 3:14 in the afternoon, Leona-san.”

“And when did Ruggie send the text?”

“At 3:00 o'clock.”

He groans and lays back down, the pillows flying about as he holds the phone to his face and smiling when he sees the sprite looking down at him worriedly.

“You really do look like them…” Leona whispers before tapping the screen so that he is poking the sprite’s cheek, “What is that face for?”

“I’m just worried for you, Leona-san. Too much sleep is a symptom of some sicknesses so--”

“Hah? You think I would get sick so easily?” he yawns and stretches, “I’m different from humans. Beastmen need a lot more sleep than regular humans do so...I’m just doing what my body tells me.”

Green eyes watch a notepad appear before the AI as they write down the information, smiling as they close it up and watch it disappear.

“I’ll keep that information in mind so I can serve Leona-san better. Thank you so much.”

Leona blinks at the words before a lazy smile crosses his face.

“Serve me better, huh? Never thought I would hear you say that.”

Usually the herbivore would be frowning and telling him to get up and actually take charge of his dorm and how he didn’t act like any grown up they knew. The sprite, however, tilts their head in confusion before speaking up once again.

“I am yours, after all.”

“Damn right you are.”

He looked at the phone a bit more, the sprite smiling up at him as he poked their cheek or patted their head. A part of him wondered if you would react like that with him as well. You always seemed so annoyed with his antics yet you never failed to come back to talk to him, telling him how he needs to get his act together if he is ever planning to go back to the Afterglow.

Leona would bet money that if he patted your head out of nowhere you would be highly flustered. Getting praise from him was something that didn’t happen often, after all.

“What day is it?”

“The 12th day of April, Leona-san.”

Another two weeks of you being gone. He frowns and closes his eyes as he thinks about you meeting those other students. RSA was just full of idiots...like his brother--

“Dammit.”

He slams the phone down but blinks when he hears a small yelp, turning the phone back around to find the AI looking rather frazzled with their eyes closed and hair all over the place.

“Shit. Are you....okay?”

Great, he was asking an application if it was okay. He could understand why Idia would hide this, right now he felt like he was crazy.

“Y--Yes! It was just unexpected!”

The sprite fixed itself up quickly and smiled back at Leona.

“Are you okay though, Leona-san?”

The dorm leader chuckled and nodded as they set the phone down gently and laid down next to it. At least that part was very much like you, worrying about others before focusing on yourself.

“You’re not going to complain? I almost just threw you.”

Without missing a beat, the AI stands up and looks at him.

“Leona-san is still working hard despite his body telling him to sleep. My program tells me that it would be a natural emotion to feel frustrated if you are not allowed to do something you want. Normal actions of frustration speak of physical manifestations such as kicking, punching or throwing. I was simply calculating it for it to be the latter and for it to happen towards a pillow. I’ll make sure to fix my calculations next time.”

He shakes his head and sets the phone down gently.

“Weird thing. You shouldn’t forgive someone so easily after they wronged you.”

“But you didn’t wrong me, Leona-san. I didn’t feel any pain. I just want to make sure you are feeling your best! You are my number one priority!”

This machine is going to make him go insane, he knows you would never say that but the fact that Idia had gotten your voice down so well that it was almost as if you had just told him he was your number one---

He was already getting a headache.

“Set an alarm for an hour. Ruggie will take around that long anyway.” Leona lays down and wraps the blankets around him.

“Of course. Alarm set for one hour. Would you like to be woken up with a personalized message?”

Leona hummed before grinning.

“Wake me up by calling me ‘King’.”

The sprite fixes its settings before giving a polite bow.

“Yes, my King. Please enjoy your rest.”

After this he would send his report to Shroud and maybe ask for an outfit upgrade. He only needed to show him some Afterglow clothes and the nerd would probably be able to make the AI wear them, right?

Whatever, the moment you came back Leona would make sure that you gave him some headpats for making him wait so long.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst imagines #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #riddle x reader #leona x reader #twst mc #//yeah this is extremely self indulgent...BUT I HAVE An ALEXA NOW AND I FEEL FANCY

[koushou]

i love it smmmm omg. the megumi fix is amazing it’s more than i asked for ❤️❤️ bro 6,9k is a blessing you don’t understand how glad it made me it’s so worth the wait. tumblr is so dry when it comes to anime fics and especially w megumi thank you for feeding me something other than the crumbs this website gives me. i don’t want to be too annoying but whenever you’re free if you could do a pt 2 cause that ending omg. i love it sm and i can’t thank you enough ❤️

pairing : megumi x f!reader [fluff]

warnings : slight makeout scene idk HAHA nothing too intense though (also not proofread because i wanted to get this posted as soon as i finished it)

wc : 3.5k

a/n : ur too sweet omg and im FINALLY back from procrastinating your request again anon… (i really apologize i don’t mean to take so long pls forgive me D: ) i hope this is what you wanted!!

pt. 1 (you don’t really have to read pt 1 to understand this part but i do recommend it)

loud chatter echoes through the large modern dining hall located on the second floor of the hotel.

“i’m… so full…” a certain pink haired male burps for the nth time as he still continues to stuff food into his mouth. gojo laughs at itadori’s passion for the hotel food, while doing the same as he takes a large bite of a pancake.

you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink and leaning back in your cushioned chair, already finished with your 3rd plate of breakfast. i mean, who could blame you? hotel breakfast food just hits a different type of way.

“so, spill all the juicy events that happened last night, i wanna know!” nobara nudges you excitedly, her eyes twinkling as she pulls her chair closer to yours.

rolling your eyes, you look away from the ginger female and pretend to not have heard her. accidentally, you were now faced towards megumi, sitting on the opposite side of you. your eyes met for a brief moment before you quickly turned away, breaking the awkward interaction.

“aww— c’mon, y/n! please—“

“nothing happened at all! and don’t think i forgot the way you ignored my knocks on your door yesterday,” you shot her a glare, earning a sheepish laugh in return.

“but... in the same bed..?”

you were about to retort back when gojo stands up and claps his hand over his stomach, which now seemed just… a few sizes bigger.

“alright! have we all finished our food? god, when did hotel food get so good— anyway, it’s time to pack our things and head back home!” your constantly enthusiastic teacher exclaims, as a waiter comes to collect your plates.

after thanking the waiter and paying the bill (poor gojo-sensei’s wallet), you all head back upstairs to drive back home.

a thick silence hangs over your room as you and megumi collect your items, not wanting to bring up any events from last night. finally ready to head out, you walk towards the door to open it until another hand reaches the handle at the same time.

you retract your hand quickly, while the other hand lingers in the air above the knob.

“oh— sorry, you can go first!” you gulp, backing up a bit so megumi can exit first.

he pauses for a second, twisting the knob until the door pulls open. you expected him to walk out, but he makes his way to the other side of you instead, still holding the door open.

you look over at him with a questioning look, receiving a slight shrug and a hint of a smirk.

“ladies first.”

why was his stupid face so handsome?

you shook your head at his teasing expression, making your way out the door to the carpeted hallway, him following close behind.

the others were already at the lobby waiting, their conversation becoming clearer as you reach them.

“what’s taking them both so long? you don’t think they’re too busy… y’know…” nobara’s usual cheerful voice carries her words to your ears, making you roll your eyes and spook her from being.

“boo.”

“i’m just sayin- oh my go—“ she frantically turns around, breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing it was just you.

“you scared me!”

“what were we talking about?”

“nothing important! come on, we should get going!” nobara nudges gojo and itadori ahead, escaping you as she scurries out of the lobby.

you hear a yawn from behind you, a tuft of black hair moving past you as you suppress the urge to laugh at megumi’s already messy hairstyle, amplified by his morning bed hair.

finally, you were all seated back in gojo’s car, ready to drive back to the school so you all can head back to your own homes.

the ride back was full of gojo’s irritating voice singing along to songs playing from the car radio, itadori laughing along, and the rest of you too excited to leave the car.

“alright kids! we’re here, make sure to be safe on the way back home!”

gojo waves to all of you as you hop out of his car one by one, basking in the cool summer air for a few seconds.

“see you guys!”

itadori jogs away, heading in the direction of his own home, followed by megumi, then nobara, and lastly, you.

upon reaching your house, your mother welcomes you, asking about your day, if you had fun, and other typical mother questions.

you were telling her about your day when you suddenly recalled the hotel night events, and scurried away embarrassed upstairs to your room, leaving a very confused mom behind.

you flop down onto the bed, face down, wanting to get a good few minutes of quiet nap time in before your phone dings with a notification.

grunting, you pull your phone out from your pocket, swiping across the screen to check the message.

surprisingly, it was from megumi, eyebrows suspiciously raising as you open the text message from him. you two rarely texted unless it was about school or business-related, so you couldn’t think of anything he would need from you right now.

megumi : Hey.

megumi : I have your hair tie with me. You probably left it in my bag or something.

megumi : I’m coming over in 5 minutes.

you sat up abruptly, rereading his messages to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

you had been so caught up with his prior messages that you failed to register that he said he was going to be at your house in… 5 minutes.

hurriedly, you swiped to see what time he had sent that last message. 12:34 AM.

your eyes moved to the top of your phone screen, reading the current time. 12:37 AM.

almost falling out of bed scrambling to your room mirror, you checked your appearance to make sure you looked fine and your hair wasn’t messy and-

you paused.

“why am i so concerned about how i look? why do i care about this?”

you slapped your face with both hands, bringing yourself back to reality when you were interrupted again, but this time by your doorbell ringing from downstairs.

making your way out of your room, you saw that your mom had already opened the door with a familiar tall figure standing in the doorway.

“oh! megumi, it’s been a while!” your mom lets megumi in with a smile, already going to the kitchen to make him some tea.

he bows politely, sitting down on the couch, now changed into a loose white t-shirt with black shorts.

“uh- theres no need to make me tea, i won’t be here for too long—“

“nonsense! you can even stay for lunch, dear megumi! i just have to prepare the last dish and—“

you finally clear your throat, standing at the middle of the stairs, catching both of their attention.

“oh, y/n! i have to go out to the grocery store for some ingredients, take care of our guest megumi, alright?” she places two cups of tea on the table in front of megumi, grabbing her keys to head out.

“wait, mom—“

she sends you a wink by the door, already outside before you can finish your sentence.

you sigh in defeat, sitting across from megumi on the other couch.

“here.”

megumi pulls out a black hair tie from his pocket, almost identical to the one currently around your wrist.

you raise your eyebrows in suspicion at the hair tie. “but i only have one? and i didn’t bring any extra yesterday..?” you motion to your own arm.

he looks back and forth between your wrist and the one he had in his hand, scratching his head in confusion.

“it was in our hotel room, so i assumed it was yours.” he shrugs, placing it on the table. “but if it isn’t, i can just throw it away.”

you hum, taking a sip of the tea your mom prepared as he does the same, cringing as the still hot tea burns his tongue.

“pfft…”

he glares at you, placing the cup down as his eyes scan around your living room, taking in the decorations.

“i’ll just keep it then, it seems new.” you take the forgotten hair tie on the table, and wear it around your wrist, now decorated with two black hair ties.

he nods, sitting back against the couch, silence falling between you both.

a question suddenly popped up in your mind, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

“you came all the way here… just to give me a hair tie?”

the question seems to set him a little nervous, clearing his throat and avoiding eye contact as he fidgets in his seat.

“well— i figured i’d return it to you before i forgot,” he shrugs, reaching out to take another sip of his tea before pulling back quickly again at the heat.

you nod slowly, still unconvinced with his answer. who goes all the way to someone’s house to return a hair tie?

“okay then, see you on monday?” you get up, ready to send him back off.

his head snaps up, still not moving in his seat as he opens his mouth slowly, as if unsure of how to respond.

“um- i thought your mom said i could stay…for lunch…?”

he averts his eyes, pink dusting his pale cheeks as he looks away. your mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape as you recall your mom’s words and those were - in fact what she had said.

it wasn’t that you were against him staying for lunch, but you two weren’t even friends or remotely close at that. rivals would even suit you both better than friends.

“but if you want i can, uh, leave now,” he starts to stand, looking uncomfortable in his position across from you.

it was then that you remembered megumi’s background, that his mother had left early at birth, plus his father wasn’t exactly present.

you couldn’t imagine living without your parents, and how lonely he must be without true family.

“no! i mean, that’s not what i meant, you can stay.” you sputter out before he gets the wrong idea.

his eyes seem to light up at your words, nodding before sitting back down on his previous spot on the couch.

you glance over at the time on your phone, it had been around 7 minutes after your mom had left.

the tension was thick in the room, and just when you thought you were about to explode from the awkwardness, he finally breaks the silence.

“do you… play that?”

you turn to where his eyes are placed on, seeing your black xbox console laying on top of a cabinet, having been untouched for a while.

“oh that? yeah, occasionally, why?”

you hear a snicker from beside you, snapping your head to find his lips curled into a teasing grin.

“oh, i just didn’t think a nerd like you would play games.”

you raise your eyebrows at his words. “you sure about that? it doesn’t seem like you’re very good at games either, megumi.” you make sure to stretch out each three syllables of his name to tease him further.

he huffs while leaning back, still maintaining intense eye contact with you, almost challenging each other to say something back.

“how about this, whoever wins against the other gets to make them do whatever they want. no matter what it is.” he nods over to the console, tilting his head as he waits for your response.

you chuckle, standing up to take the console, fiddling with it for a moment before turning back to him.

“alright, just don’t cry when you lose too much, okay?”

he shrugs, smirking as he looks around the living room for the other console, making you remember something.

“oh, the other console plus a TV is in my room, wanna just play there?”

he stiffens suddenly, before nodding slowly and following you upstairs to your room.

reaching the door, you suddenly stop, making megumi grunt and come to a stop, almost crashing into you.

“uh - wait here.”

you open the door just enough to slip inside, quickly gathering some of your belongings and cleaning as much as you could, to at least make your room seem presentable.

“okay!” you open the door for megumi, who makes no move to enter at first.

“...”

“you can come in.”

“... is this okay?”

you cock your head, not understanding his question.

“your mom isn’t home.”

“...so?”

“we’re alone.”

“and?”

“i’m… going into your room.”

“what is your point?” you began to grow frustrated at this conversation. then, it hit you all of a sudden.

“ahh, megumi? have you never been in a girl’s room alone before?” you snicker, shaking your head from laughter.

he starts to protest, before quickly closing his mouth and finally entering your room.

you connect the two consoles into your TV in your room, sitting down on the edge of your bed as you load up the games on the screen.

“you can sit here if you want,” you pat the empty spot next to you, to which he carefully sits down on, taking one console from your hand.

“ready?”

he nods, as you start the game.

-- --

“what--?!”

you throw your hands up in frustration, groaning as you flop backwards on the bed.

“i told you, you can’t beat me.” megumi chuckles, dodging a stuffed bear you threw in his direction.

you huffed, sitting back up, determined to beat him at least once.

“one last rematch!”

he lets out a laugh, a rare one that you think you might just never forget, and starts the game again.

after a few minutes of intense clicking, yelling and laughing, you let out a proud shout, the word victory flashing across your screen.

you pick up another stuffed animal from your bed and toss it straight at megumi’s face, celebrating as he lets out an ‘oof’ and glare back at you.

“but i still won around, 7 times, so i get to make you do something- oof-” he stumbles back again from another stuffed animal to the face.

“hmm? i don’t know what you’re talking about--” you pretend to not have heard him before your vision goes momentarily black from a soft object hitting your face, a pink bear landing in your lap.

“hey!”

“what, you keep throwing them at me!”

“fine…”

“hey, why are you getting so close--!”

you tackle megumi backwards onto the bed, throwing your pillows at his face -- not very gently -- as he tries to shield his arms in vain.

“ahh—! okay, okay, i’m sorry, stop it—“ he huffs as you finally stops your attack, his dark blue orbs looking up into yours.

you only now noticed your close proximity, quickly sitting back up to create some distance between the both of you. he clears his throat, fiddling with one of your pillows.

“well, a loss is a loss, what do i have to do?” you sigh, admitting your defeat.

“hmm…” he seems to be lost in deep thought, probably trying to find the worst thing he can make you do.

after a few silent, intense seconds, he finally speaks.

“are you… free tomorrow?”

you turn to him, giving him a questioning look at his strange question. he only stares back at you in response, awaiting your answer.

“um… yeah, i’m free the whole day, why do you as-“

“come watch a movie with me tomorrow.” he blurts out quickly, not even letting you finish your sentence.

you gape at him, still processing his words, unsure if you had heard wrong.

“... sorry?”

his face was reddenning by the second, yet his eyes remained firmly on yours the whole time.

“let’s go watch the new movie in the theater. i heard it’s quite popular already despite releasing only last week.”

“oh… okay, i can ask nobara if she wants to com-“

“don’t!” he says a little too loudly, clearing his throat after as he regains his composure.

“i mean, i- just, you.”

“just.. us?”

he nods.

silence fell again between the two of you, unsure if he was asking you what you thought he was asking you. you decide to test the waters cautiously.

“man.. it’s almost like you’re asking me out on a date, megumi?” you tease lightly, expecting a ‘tch’ or an, ‘as if’.

“so what if i am?”

now that was an answer you weren’t expecting.

“you’re.. joking, right?”

megumi sighs, moving closer until his body was mere centimeters away from yours.

“i’m serious.”

“do you... like me or something?���

he stares at you blankly. “would i ask you on a date if i didn’t have feelings for you, idiot?”

you only just realize how stupid your question sounded, trying to find a response until he reaches up to cup your cheek with one hand.

they felt soft, yet slightly gruff from constant training and fighting, large enough to cover one half of your face. they were warm, slightly trembling probably from nervousness, yet made you wish he’d never take it off.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to. we can forget this ever happened.” his own cheeks turning slightly pink, yours probably even worse as the space between your faces closed in slowly.

“but i don't think i can do this anymore, so just let me be a little selfish this once, okay?”

barely registering his words before he moves in to kiss you, soft lips moving against the other as his hand tightens against the side of your cheek. you barely register your own actions anymore, hands reaching up to tangle themselves in his hair, moving down to his neck, and finally finding home cupped around his face.

he groans against your lips, pressing you down until he was now hovering above you, never breaking the kiss even once in the process. you lost track of how long you both had been making out in your bed before you hear the front door open from downstairs.

frantically, the both of you separated in fear of your mom catching you in the act, catching your breaths while still processing what just happened.

you hear shuffling from downstairs, standing up to escape megumi before you were pulled back into a warm chest.

“wait—“ his arms wrap around you to trap you from leaving his grasp, your eyes looking everywhere but his, and suddenly your wall was the most interesting thing in sight.

“are we… really going to pretend that didn’t happen?” you finally gather the courage to look him in the face, almost melting at the soft pout set on his (now slightly redder than before) lips.

“ilikeyoutoo.” you get out quickly before you lose the chance to say it again.

he stiffens against you, eyes lighting up almost like an excited puppy receiving treats. “you like me? i didn’t hear you, so can you say it again?”

you huff, trying to wriggle your way out of his arms, only resulting in him pulling you closer to sit on his lap. he presses his forehead to yours, chuckling at your futile attempt to escape.

“i said— i like you—!” you ram your head into his, making him groan in pain, loosening his hold on you. the perfect chance for escape.

you saw the opportunity, dashing to the door, twisting the knob, almost getting it open until—

“nope,” megumi’s hand stops the door in time, instead twisting you around until your back was now flat against the wood, both of his palms placed beside your head.

“y/n? megumi?” your mom’s voice calls from downstairs, but all you could hear was your heartbeat thumping loudly in your chest.

“megumi! move, my mom’s home,” you place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away to no avail.

he grabs your pushing hand and places it on the left side of his chest, letting you feel the soft but fast thumping of his heart, almost matching the pace of your own.

“this is all your fault. you’re not gonna take responsibility for it?” he inches closer to your burning face, making you huff and grab his face.

you press your lips to his, feeling him immediately return the kiss, but you pull away after a few seconds, leaving him still trying to kiss you again.

“nope, my mom’s home, and i’m hungry.”

you open the door, seeing your mom begin to set the table with plates of food downstairs. you look back at megumi, who still looked sad after getting his kiss cut short.

sighing, you take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together before pulling him down the stairs.

“come on, it’s time for lunch. you’ll get more later.”

you feel him perk up, giving your hand a squeeze as he follows close behind.

you steal a glance at your wrist, still wearing both the hair ties. good thing he hadn’t noticed you stuffing one into his bag this morning.

#megumi x reader #megumi x reader fluff #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro oneshot #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen megumi

[kshira]

—filthy rich

a bet//making you cum//rich boy sakusa//that’s it//that’s the tweet

18+ content//minors dni

wc: 2,066

18+ content, cursing, f!reader, blushy sakusa, fingering, soft dom sakusa (?), alcohol consumption, mentions of alcohol, reader slightly buzzed, smut in general

+ this is my piece for the rich boy collab, i thank @bakugohoex for letting me join & be sure to check out the rest of the wonderful event!

//“wanna make a bet, pretty boy?” atsumu grins, raising his glass to his lips, raking his eyes over the crowds of people until he makes you his target.

“the bet being?” sakusa says, meeting eye contact with you then bashfully taking the gaze away.

“well i’m bored, a little horny and that pool girl over there looks pretty fuckin’ hot” atsumu takes the glass gulping the last of the whiskey before slamming it back down.

sakusa shutters when he hears the glass crack at the metal table, his nerves are building but the alcohol soothes it—somewhat.

lavish cars fill his garages, endless expensive clothes pack sakusa’s closets, and the infinity amount of money suffused his bank account.

yet sakusa doesn’t understand why he feels numb, his money attracts everything and anyone—his bed never stays empty neither does his wallet but his soul—hollow.

“lets see who can fuck her first but more importantly who can make her cum first” atsumu wipes the brown liquor from his lips before giving sakusa a little push “you first omi.”

sakusa stumbles forward but takes the stride into your path around the pool, slowly walking in your direction watching you scoop the towels from vacant chairs and wiping down tables as you go.

“you do an exceptional job.. as a pool girl..fuck why did i say that, hi hello” sakusa covers his pink covered cheeks, eyeing the way your hips sway a certain way as you finish wiping down a chair.

“is this your way of hitting on me?” you chuckle, turning around to face the unknown force behind you—unexpectedly he wasn’t an old creep this time.

sakusa was in no doubt a beautiful man but where to start? that was what your eyes kept doing.

you started with his hair, the way he certainly tried to mask the curls in gel but the summer heat brought them spiraling down over his face, his pale skin adorned his muscles carved within and the most catching part you found about him was those beauty marks perfectly placed on his face.

“what time do you get off?” sakusa avoids your eyes when he mutters the words out, of course he knows he’s attractive but rejection never settled well with him.

“mm, well if you rub me just right i usually get off pretty quickly” you try to conceal the smile you have watching sakua’s eyes widen by your bold statement, you notice it doesn’t take much to get a reaction from him—you wonder that with other parts of him.

“j-just give me your number and text me when you get off— off work” sakusa coldly states and turns around as quickly as he got there leaving a confused look from you and a hysterical atsumu in the background.

you had seen this famous sakusa before, anybody flocked to him at every social event you unfortunately attended for the filthy disgusting rich, cleaning up behind them and taking their harsh coated words just for the sake of a little bit of money.

sakusa was placed in this group by his fame nonetheless and the staggering amount of money he’d collected through his growing career, so fuck it you think, might as well play this game he’d started—eat the rich instead of them devoring you for a change.

your text to sakusa left unanswered for a brief moment to give you some time to unwind and relax including a well deserved bottle of expensive champagne and a hot shower.

but as the alcohol finally started soaking in your phone lit up and the engine of a car in your apartment complex turned off.

kiyoomi sakusa was here, with all that fame and glory.

he was casually leaning on a ferrari, typical you thought for him to pull up in a car more expensive than anything you owned all together—filthy rich with the looks to double the amount.

“come in” you wave him into your apartment, watching him check his phone again and stride to your spot right inside your home.

“interesting..place” sakusa grunts, taking his shoes off and the door and shyly walking closer to the living room before planting his heavy body down on the couch.

“not up to your standards i guess?” you joke, crawling beside him on the couch, your fingers grazing his chest for stability—he’s nervous with a sweat beading around his dark curls and that tint of pink on his cheeks you’ve started to like on him.

“enough of the small talk, you know why i’m here we texted enough to get on first name basis and for you to know i’m not a creep or anything but—“ sakusa pauses to watch your expression, wide eyed and full of curiosity it kind of pains him to explain further.

“go on” you hum, swiping a piece of hair behind your ear scooting closer to him and to add a little bit of spice your hand stays dormant on his thigh.

“it was a bet to sleep with you but that’s something that we don’t have to do or anything like that—the other part of the bet is useless to talk about but i just had to make it look like i was actually doing the bet so i wouldn’t get ragged on by my friend..” sakusa is afraid to look at you, his eyes staying down at the floor memorizing the patterns of the hardwood floor.

“the bet.. what’s the other part?” you’re genuinely curious but if anything the fact that this rich boy is wanting to walk away in shame and defeat has you wondering—tasting for something else.

“to..make you.. c-cum and i was chosen to go first” sakusa leans back on the couch, wanting to melt into it entirely from embarrassment.

“is that so? i did say it didn’t take much to get me off” you smile back, peeling his large palms from his red cheeks to see a sly smile hiding under it.

“it’s been awhile for me so don’t have great expectations” sakusa chuckles interlocking his fingers with yours and moving inches closer till your lips can just almost touch.

there wasn’t time to take in his kiss when his tongue already started gently touching the walls inside your mouth, the sweet liquor still lingered and mixed with the champagne you had drunk; it was a divine taste.

sakusa went first taking his clothes off, starting with his shirt that colored your old wooden floors, his upper body was on display and fuck did it look good.

the ridges that filled his stomach formed remarkable abs, his skin flashed an ivory stain and those beauty marks created mini constellations all over.

an idea had tainted your mind for awhile, his beautiful body so clean and pure— needed something on it.

“do you mind if i pour this champagne on you?” your finger taps on the glass whilst your other hand draws circles on his bare chest.

“if you clean up the mess you’re going to start” sakusa holds his bottom lip between his teeth as you’d already started pouring the golden liquid all over his stomach.

“i planned to” your tongue drags away the champagne, licking all where it flows but never leaving his skin—you can feel sakusa’s body tremble at every lap you place on him and the bulge under your ass keeps growing bigger.

you gaze up to see him and a hazed lustful sakusa groans back at you, his cheeks dusted pink all over again with that growing bulge under you throbbing at this point.

“do you want me to go further? since you haven’t done this in awhile i can—“ you wince when sakusa pulls your face up by your cheeks, his palms practically swallowing your face whole.

“i said i haven’t done this in a while not that i don’t know how to fuck you” he takes you in another kiss, devouring your lips with his own swirling his tongue around the champagne laying shallow in your mouth.

sakusa decided the sweet taste isn’t enough, he’s growing tired of his hardened dick just rubbing under you, he needs release soon.

“tell me, how does a pool girl like you have chardonnay champagne?” sakusa smirks, pulling your flimsy shirt off to reveal your tits; you shake from the exposed air fluttering to your skin leaving your nipples perked to a draw.

“i think compensation like expensive drinks are well deserved after dealing with rich fucking pricks all day” sakusa leans down listening to your reply, kissing your bare skin till he reaches your breasts.

“this rich fucking prick is about to fuck you though, you pretty little thing” his tongue wraps around one nipple sucking so slightly, you dance your fingers through the strands of his curls—the moan that escaped from your throat define that sakusa is in command.

“f-fuck feels good” you squeak, your voice stays rippled in your lungs—you don’t want to feel this good by a lick or a touch but the way sakusa is treating your body it’s a reflex now.

sakusa moves on to the other perked nipple, treating this one with more attention and while you’re caught up in the pulses your pussy is vibrating he slowly slings his hand down to your shorts, slipping them off and sinking one finger in.

“fuck—so wet, wet for me huh?” he groans into your tits, taking action in your messy hole, scissoring and moving with ease he’s already able to slip another one right in.

you want to answer him but you just don’t care too, you’re so caught up feeling his tongue trace a rotation on your perked breasts and his fingers plunging in your velvet walls that whatever you want to say fills right in with the orgasm you’re about to pull out.

sakusa feels you clamping down on his thick fingers, he knows you’re about to cum and he could walk away right afterwards with his winning bet but with your mouth agape, eyes glossy from the pleasure and you moaning for nobody but him—he wants inside of you.

you're reaching the top of your peak fast, your flowing essence tingling down your toes all you think about is him, his thick fingers and when you start to cum all on his fingers now you’re thinking about his dick.

“taste so good, so fucking good” sakusa pulls away from your cunt, his fingers soaked with the tips of them dripping in your cum and going right in his mouth.

god, did he have to do that?

“want you—want you in me now” you plead, palming at his pants and rubbing at his still stiff cock; you’re no one to beg but fuck you’re doing it now.

“such a good girl for me letting me make you cum, this time i’m gonna cum with you, yeah?” sakusa places a kiss on cheek trailing down your neck while he slips the rest of his clothes off and with the last drop of his clothes off you feel his knees dip in on the couch around you and that first stroke in.

of course measured with his height you’d known he’d be big but that soothing burn into your soaking pussy was the pure, uneducated guess he’d be this big.

but fuck did he reach that spot you couldn’t touch with your fingers, the way he’d bend your knees straight to your chest to get right at your cervix and you’d be goddamned if his dick didn’t rub right in your clit for safe measures.

“i’m not going to last when you feel this good but fuck i wanna” sakusa heaves, bringing his chest flushed to your knees, pressing down harder so he’s so balls deep he’s connected one with your soul.

“you gonna cum so soon huh? cum in this pussy” you moan out, digging nails in him and clenching so hard it’s cutting the blood flow down below on him.

“yeah? that what you want? fill this messy hole with my cum? god you’re so something else” sakusa fucks you faster till his balls are slapping at your wet thighs and his breathing matches with his speed.

“i’m gonna cum, i can’t hold it—fuck!” he bites down on your shoulder before stalling to fill you entirely up.

with a bet like this, you wonder how his other friend is going to fuck you//

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi smut #sakusa smut #sakusa x you #rich boy collab #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! #hq imagines #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! smut #kiyoomi sakusa #sakusa imagines #sakusa x y/n #haikyuu collab #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #hqintheclub #haikyuu headquarters #haikyuu drabbles #hq headcanons