#all I have to do is convince myself to actually brush my teeth tonight before I go to bed and I think I've fully beat the Horror for a day

[aberooski]

I just spent many hours deep cleaning my room but man I feel so good now that it's done, all the depression clutter is gone and I finally made my bed again for the first time in probably a month 😭

[smolkiwi98]

hi! i'm not sure if youre alright with it and im sorry if youre not, but could you write some non sexual domination with steve or eddie? so its consensual but not really for pleasure. something like reader and him having agreements on things she should and should not do, things she wants to improve but has a hard time with and punishments and maybe she breaks a rule and he gives her a spanking and lots of after care of course. again, sorry if its somthing youre not comfortable with

I'm sorry if this one seems rushed as well! I hope you enjoy!

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if you want to make a request click here

!WARNING! brief mentions of spanking, one spank is mentioned, depression and anxiety is mentioned, dom/sub dynamic but not in a sexual way! I think that's it.

It was simple. You do certain things and get rewarded for doing those certain things, but those things are so hard to complete no matter how simple they are! Your relationship with Eddie is amazing and what’s great is he’s always there to help no matter what. He wants nothing but the best for you. Which is why the two of you have come to an agreement to bring your dom/sub dynamic out of the bedroom and into normal everyday things. No you weren’t doing spicy things out in public (no matter how many times Eddie jokes about it), you were simply doing what your dom asks. Following tasks…following his rules. Not for sexual pleasure, no. For your well being. Making sure you’re taking care of yourself. 

The rules were simple, but sometimes mentally…it was hard. It was hard to remember to take your meds on time, brush your hair, brush your teeth, wash your hair. These are things you’re supposed to automatically do, like it's nothing! But your anxiety gets in the way. Your depression stops you. You hated it and wanted to better yourself, but no matter how times you’ve tried it just didn’t work. It would last about 3 days and then it would all just stop, so you and Eddie decided on rules and if those rules are broken then you get punished. Again not a sexual thing. A lifestyle to help you. 

“Okay, Princess. What are your tasks for today?” Eddie asks you as he walks to the front door. He had gotten you up and ready for the day while he got ready for work. You followed him around the trailer as he got ready to leave. Finally he turned and looked at you “Sweetheart?” He asked, making you blink, “Oh! Um…Make myself lunch, clean up the living room, and do laundry.” Eddie nodded “Aaaand?” He said, watching you, “Take my meds?” He smiled and nodded “Yup! You’re so smart.” He said while pulling you into a hug “I’ll be back around 6 tonight.” He said while kissing your head “I love you.” He said against your forehead. You smiled and squeezed him a little tighter “I love you too, Eds.” He smiled and kissed you one more time before leaving for work. You smiled and closed the door and turned around to look at the trailer, “This shouldn’t be too bad.” You said to yourself and walked to the room to get the laundry together. 

~ 4 Hours ~

You had separated the laundry and managed to get all the under clothes in the washer, but the only issue is they’ve been in there for about an hour now…maybe longer? The jeans pile and the shirt pile laid on the floor of the living room. The living room wasn’t messy. The only thing to pick up were some cups and empty candy wrappers…which were still on the end tables. The only task you actually got done was taking your medicine and that’s only because Eddie called to make sure you did take them! Your first  mistake was turning on the tv and finding out your favorite movie was on, your second mistake was finding your favorite nail polish on the end table and your third mistake? Convincing yourself all your tasks were done. That’s another problem you have. You find something other things to do and just tell yourself everything on your to-do list was done!

You sat on the coffee table sitting criss crossed while you painted your nails and watched the movie. You were so engulfed by nail painting and the movie that you didn’t realize the door was opening. Eddie walked in and kicked off his boots and looked over at you. He smiled thinking how cute you looked while painting your nails, your tongue was sticking out as you concentrated. He walked a little closer and his smile slowly fell when he saw the two piles of clothes on the floor in front of you and then looked at the end tables and saw the trash still sitting there, “Princess.” He said making you jump. You smiled wide and got up and made your way over to him hugging him tight “I missed you!” You exclaimed while wrapping your arms around him. Eddie hugged you back, but it wasn’t a squeeze that he usually gave you after work. You pulled away and looked up at him frowning “Are you okay?” You asked. Maybe he had a bad day? Eddie took a small step back and crossed his arms “How did your tasks go?” He asked “Oh! I got a load of laundry done and I took my medicine.” You said smiling, completely forgetting about the trash and the other two piles of clothes. Eddie nodded his head “Where’s that load of laundry?” You turned around to point at the laundry basket, but found that it was empty which made you frown, “I thought I put it in the basket.” You said quietly. Eddie bent down a little so he was making eye contact with you and gently took a hold of your face. His thumb and fingers squishing your cheeks “I think you need to take a closer look at the living room, Sweetheart.” He said while turning your head back towards the living room. You looked around and you were confused at first until it clicked. Your eyes widened and you looked back at him ‘The load is still in the washer…” You mumbled. Eddie chuckled almost like he was amazed “Did you even look at the floor? What about the tables? Huh?” He said, “Try again.” He said making you look back. You sighed when you finally saw what he was talking about. How could you be so stupid. You looked down “I didn’t clean the living room and I didn’t finish the laundry.” You said. Eddie did nothing but nod and take your hand and started to walk to the bedroom. 

The small walk to the room had you confused, but once Eddie sat down on the bed man spreading you realized you were going to be punished. A small blush made its way on your cheeks and you played with your fingers “Come on, Princess. You know the drill.” He said while patting his lap. You sighed and slowly made your way across his lap. You put your face in the bed and held onto his thigh. His hand ran up and down thigh, pushing your soft night shorts up so the bottom of your ass peaked out. You shivered, his rings were so cold against your skin, “Now…before I start tell me what you did all day.” He always did this. Made you explain your day so you can figure out what you did wrong and if you lied then your punishment would just be worse. “I…I started the first load of clothes and took my medicine.” He hummed signaling for you to continue “I separated the rest of the clothes. I turned the tv on for background noise and saw that a movie was on…and I also found my nail polish.” You mumbled, “Okay. What was your first mistake?” He asked “I turned the tv on?” You asked “Right. I’ve told you no tv until you finish your tasks.” He said as he stopped rubbing your bottom “I think 10 spanks is good, yeah?” You nodded your head “I won’t make you count this time.” Again you nodded and responded with a quiet ‘okay.’ Eddie brought his hand up and spanked you. You silently thanked him for not going so hard this time, you guessed it was because he didn’t think of the issue as a huge one. 

After the 10 spanks he slowly lifted you up and gently set you down on his lap. Your legs on either side of him making you straddle him “How are you feeling?” He whispered while wiping the small tears that threatened to fall. You sniffed “I’m okay.” You said quietly “Lay on your tummy for me, okay?” He said which you just responded with a nod. You climbed off of him and laid on your tummy. Your bottom hurt, but it wasn’t as bad as his other punishments. You watched as he moved around the room and grabbed different things. Finally he was back by you and spread your legs a little “I’m gonna pull your shorts down, alright Princess.” He always announced what he was doing when you couldn’t see what he was doing, it made you feel safe and it made him more comfortable with you knowing what he was doing. You could hear a cap being opened and already knew he was going to put soothing cream where had spanked you. Even though it wasn’t harsh, the cream still felt nice against your burning skin. You let out a small sigh and closed your eyes as he massaged you.  Every now and then he would leave little kisses on the back of your thighs, “Do you want to wear these shorts or just one of my shirts?” He asked standing up. You sat up and turned around to face him “I kinda wanna wear my shorts until we go to bed.” You said. Eddie nodded and leaned in to give you a small kiss on the lips, “How about you finish the laundry while I cook us some dinner.” He said. You pouted not really wanting to do the laundry right now, but the pout just made Eddie give you a stern look “Okay.” You said and stood up from the bed, but before you could walk out the room Eddie scooped you up and carried you to the living room “Finish the laundry and I might make you a milkshake.” He said while setting you down. 

Well now you had something to work for.

[kiridarling]

"𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒."

izuku midoriya | friends older brother!izuku + college student!reader + f!reader + squirting + size kink + more! minors dni! does this count? as dark content?

— 2.4k words

"It's simple: I'll stuff you full with two fingers, but they only do what simon says. Understand?"

“[Y/N?]”

“Uh, hey Izuku!” You smile, grip tightening around the strap to your bag. Izuku fills the doorway, broad shoulders kissing both sides of the frame, and you can’t help but feel minuscule in comparison. “Kota around?”

Izuku shakes his head, peering over his shoulder for a second before returning his attention to you with a click of his tongue. "Uh, no I think he's out with Eri. They should be back soon though...it's been a few hours."

"Shit," you curse under your breath. Your friend's older brother smiles in apology, biceps straining under his white tee.

"You need something?"

"Yeah," you nod, forcing your eyes back onto his, instead of the broad chest presented at eye-level. "Just my precalc book."

Izuku waits a second, thinking, before his palm claps against the doorframe and he's walking deeper into the house. "Come on in, then! I'm sure he won't mind."

You step into the house after him, and it's...weird. Weird being with your Kota's older brother without Kota there, because despite the thousands of times you've been in your best friend's house and as well as you know the greenette, you and Izuku have never been alone.

"Find it?"

You've been rummaging through Kota's room for a solid ten minutes and somehow still empty-handed, moving slowly in fear you'll see something you can't unsee. And hey, with Kota and Eri dating, anything's possible.

"No," you sigh, ready to give up rather than find a strap-on. "It's fine. I can just come to get it tomorrow or something."

"How soon do you need it?" The greenette asks, his forearms leaning against his younger brother's dresser. You take a seat on Kota's comforter instead, silently hoping you'll find your book by accidentally breaking your tailbone against the damn thing; you're a little disappointed when all your ass comes in contact with is a plush mattress.

"Like, tonight," you grieve, knowing that tomorrow morning, your math grade will suffer severely. "'S fine though. There's always another test."

Izuku snorts at that, crossing the room to take a seat next to you. The bed whines under his weight but doesn't collapse, and you feel a little bad to say you're surprised. Voice full of reminiscence, he sighs, "Ah, the college days."

You giggle, "You act like they're lightyears behind you."

"They might as well be," the greenette shrugs, before reaching behind your waist to steal a pillow. "Couldn't tell you a thing I learned."

You shrug trying to remember the last time you’ve felt prepared for a test, “Neither can I.”

Izuku chuckles and nods, though you’re convinced it’s because he has nothing to say. An awkward silence takes possession of the room by the neck, and you shift awkwardly, unsure of what to say that could give you an excuse to leave, or at least redirect his strange yet heavy gaze. As Izuku licks his lips, you notice how close you two actually are, as he's big to the point where your shoulders almost brush, but not quite.

"How um, hows your boyfriend?"

You scoff at that, but you suppose it's been a while since you and the greenette have talked one on one—and the last time you had, you weren't single.

"Oh uh, he's fine, I guess," you brush it off with a shrug and a wave, cringing at the thought of how that ended. "I don't know. We broke up a while ago, so."

"Oh sorry!" Izuku flushes and throws a hand over his mouth, and you giggle.

"You're fine. He was an asshole anyway," you chuck a laugh, but it's not really that funny. Frankly, he's left too many emotional scars to count, along with the ones healing from past exes. "I...don't have a good reputation when it comes to picking boyfriends."

“So, I’ve heard—no offense,” he says sheepishly, though you don't blame him. You've definitely had a few surprise visits caused by a nasty break-up or two, knowing this is the place you'll probably find both of your best friends hiding out. When Izuku speaks again, it’s borderline awkward as his eyes dart around the room, cheeks puffed and lips pursed in apprehension. “Found...anyone new?”

You frown, “Anyone new.”

“Yeah!” Izuku exclaims, and it’s almost encouraging. “Like a new boyfriend.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Um, no. Like I said, I don’t have much luck with that type of stuff.”

Izuku snorts, rolling his eyes before he’s adjusting himself to lay on the pillow, half of his body upright. “I bet you do. You might not realize it, but you do.”

Now it’s your turn to snort and roll your eyes, leaning back on your hands with a huff. "You're just being nice, Izuku."

"No, seriously!" He props himself higher so you can see he really is serious, evergreen eyes locked and deadset, "Like—okay, and this might be a TMI or something, but how do they, y'know, and then be dicks, y'know?"

"They don't."

"They don't...what?"

"They don't...make me cum," you heave with great depression, despite the seemingly surface-level complaint. With wrists tightening around your ankles, you hate uncomfortably in the silence, and watch Izuku's mouth open and close, before it opens and closes again.

"Like...never?"

"No." You give him a weird look.

"But what about your last boyfriend? I thought he—"

"I don't know what you're looking for, Izuku," you chuckle, shaking your head. The greenette seems more pained than he is shocked, eyes wide with a big fat pout in place of a neutral face. "It's not like I haven't had an orgasm before. Just...not with someone else."

"That's not the same!" Izuku defends, slowly becoming more animated than you've ever seen him. "It's like...more passionate with another person, you know? And that makes everything a whole lot hotter."

"Thanks," you huff, mood souring more than it already has. Izuku's mouth stills once he realizes what he's essentially bragging, guilt clouding his face. As you exhale out of your nose, you can't escape feeling bad for snapping. "Look. I'm perfectly fine with being the only person to be able to make myself cum. It's not that deep."

"You sound like you expect no one to be able to," Izuku snorts with a raised eyebrow, shoulders bumping against yours. "You've just...had bad boyfriend luck. That doesn't mean no one's capable of doing it."

"Well," you click your tongue bitterly, because you've heard all of this before, and you're utterly tired of hearing it. "They've been able to make all their exes orgasm. And it's not like it even matters, relationships aren't abou—"

"I could do it."

"I—" you blink, shaking your head at the pure audacity of his request? Suggestion? Comment? Whatever the fuck. "Excuse me?"

"I—wait, listen," Izuku rushes like you're getting ready to book it the fuck out of there, sitting upright so his body is turned to yours. "You're...it's...I've been told I'm good with my fingers, right?"

And what a way to start a story.

"Izuku, in the nicest way, every guy is like this," you scoff, "He thinks he's all that just because a chick or two said you made her feel really good. I don't need to fake another orgasm."

"You won't have to," Izuku purrs cockily, leaning forwards on his hands and making you wonder where all of this is coming from. "Let's play a game of simon says, yeah?"

"Simon—" your chest collapses with a giggle of pure disbelief, "I'm not that much younger than you, you know."

"I wouldn't be offering if you were," the greenette reasons, eyes growing dark slowly, if any. "Yes or no?"

"What's the catch?" You bargain and Izuku huffs a laugh. You can feel it on your face.

"No catch, Pretty," he hums, and you can feel the vibrations in your fingers. "It's simple: I'll stuff you full with two fingers, but they only do what simon says. Understand?"

You gulp as Izuku lifts a hand—and a very large one, at that—and it's jagged and rough with scars and bulky knuckles. His free hand makes you grab his wrist and you're fingertips barely touch, but you’re pulling his hand south by your own volition.

“Gotta take your pants off first,” he chuckles, and you flush red. That would be helpful, yes.

It doesn't take long before they're off though, flung towards a corner somewhere—and this is when you realize that maybe, you shouldn't do this on Kota's bed.

"Izuku maybe we shoul—"

But before you can say anything else, he's pushing your panties to the side and shoving both fingers into you at once, eyebrows folding as he groans under his breath from the sensation.

"So wet already? Clearly, someone likes this more than they let on."

"I—what the fuck happened to simon says!" You yelp, but his fingers don't move. Izuku just beams like the deceptive asshole he is.

"Game starts now," is all he says, and you're huffing, propping yourself up on your elbows. Izuku's fingers might as well have knocked the wind out of you, lungs struggling to find room to breathe as he curls his fingers to tap directly onto your g-spot with worrying precision.

"Simon says um, move please," you grunt out. Izuku's fingers stay still, and you frown, kicking him in the thigh. "Hey, I sai—"

"You gotta be more specific than that, Pretty,” he says with a grin. You snarl. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

"I..." you start, but it's fucking embarrassing, and you know Izuku feels you twitch around him when you say: "Can you um, fuck me with your fingers."

He doesn't move.

"Simon says fuck me with your fingers, asshole," you grunt with narrowed eyes, though they widen when he starts to pump his fingers in and out, chuckling when you shiver from the dexterity.

Except, his fingers move painfully slow, and you find yourself gritting your teeth at the speed when he doesn't make an effort to go any faster. You click your tongue—he's really going to make you request everything, isn't he?

"Simon says faster," you growl with a challenge burning in your eyes, and Izuku meets them with equal fire, fingers finally forgetting their torturous pace for a much quicker one. Finally.

"Fuck! Simo—simon says right t-there," your legs spread wider and Izuku makes more room for himself in between. He hums with dark eyes as you whimper and whine his name, writhing in his younger brother's sheets like they belong to him—like you belong to him.

"I wanna touch you all the time, you know," Izuku grunts before cursing at the sight of your wetness around his fingers. "Make you feel good, make you mine. I don't think Kota would approve, though."

"We don—" you wheeze and he places a hand next to your head, towering over you. The angle only gets better, your hands digging into the sheets as Izuku's fingers curl just right. "We don't have to tell him."

Izuku chuckles at that, chest rumbling as he leans in closer to the point where your noses nearly touch. "You dirty fucking girl."

You moan at that, hips bucking into his hand. You're so close and yet you need more, something else to push you over the edge for good. With a whimper behind a bitten lip, you say, "S-Simon says rub my clit."

Izuku's thumb falls upon your clit and you squeal from the amount of initial pressure, thighs jolting from the white-hot waves that pump through your bloodstream as his thumb moves in small, ever-quickening circles that have you gripping for Kota's comforter for dear life.

"Iz—Izuku I'm gonna—g-gonna cum," you pant, and he's ripping his hands away before you can even reach a hint of the edge. You glare at him out of pure and utter betrayal, and he beams.

"Simon didn't say, did he?"

Your mouth flies open before your brain has time to process it all, "Simon says make me cum, p-please, I need to—fuck!"

Izuku's stuffing you full with his fingers in an instant and his thumb returns to its rightful place.

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, Pretty?" His hands somehow find the energy to speed up to the point where the clap of his palm against your pussy fills the room, slowly being replaced by a lewd squelch as you tighten around him. He chuckles when all you can do is whimper, grappling for his big shoulders as he says, "Oh, yes she is. So fucking close I can feel it."

You let out a broken moan and in a blink you're squirting, body buzzing as you make a big wet mess of Kota's sheets. It doesn't even register how screwed you two are because you're too busy wading waist-deep in the sea of Izuku's eyes, chest heaving in time with his as he gives you a look of pure awe. Not at what you've done, per se, but at you, and that's when you understand it—the passion.

"We should uh, probably clean up," Izuku flushes as he chuckles, cheeks pressing into the crescents of his face, and you find yourself smiling along with him. With a final click, he pulls his fingers out, gesturing to a circular wet spot on his now see-through shirt. "You made quite a mess."

Fuck the passion.

You shove your fists into his chest and Izuku laughs, pushing your hands away with his one dry free hand, wiping the wet one on Kota's sheets.

"Izuku!" You gasp, looking at the new and improved addition to your mess. The greenette shrugs.

"What? We're going to have to clean it anyway," he shrugs before assuming the dry spot to your right and nestling his forearms in the pillow to peck you on the forehead. Then he freezes.

"I uh...am I allowed to do that?"

You roll your eyes, grabbing him by his squirt-soaked shirt to pull him into a kiss. Izuku hums at that, suppressing the urge to smile as his big hands find their way to your waist. He's an annoyingly good kisser

"No, you're not," you say with swollen lips once you pull away. Izuku grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his eyes flutter to yours for a moment, before they're staring into your soul again.

"I like you," he boldly states, albeit quietly, like he's talking to your eyes and nothing else. "Like, a lot."

"I—" You start, but you're interrupted by a click of a lock and the sound of the front door opening. Shit.

"Oi! We're home, Izuku!"

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Dangerous Woman- Part 9

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: Fez and reader finally talk about the tiny elephant in the room.

Song: "Fall Away" by Twenty One Pilots

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex and drugs.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This was super quick and easy for me to write so I figured why not give this one to you guys tonight too.

Part 1* Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5* Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

My stomach is in knots the whole entire time I wait for Fez to arrive.

I was surprised by his text, the suddenness of the response. It didn’t surprise me that he was waiting for me to text him, practically waiting by the phone for me to call or text him. To give him something, anything.. But I was surprised that he wasn’t mad at me for blowing him off the past week. I would be mad at myself if I did this. I was acting like a highschooler but I had a feeling once he knew the actual situation that he could sympathize a bit for me.

My mom sits in the living room, her eyes on me as I pace, the pregnancy tests on the table watching me too in way. I had pulled out the paperwork from my appointment, everything set up nicely on the table so it would be easy to explain to Fez. I wanted to have all my ducks in a row so I didn’t fumble or mess anything up. I wanted him to have all the information he needed to make the right decision for himself.

Hopefully that would be the decision that I wanted him to make.

I told my mom she didn’t need to stay in the room, that she didn’t need to stalk us from the couch. Fez would never think about getting angry with me, at least not mad enough to the point where I wouldn’t be able to handle it. But, some place deep down, I had the firm belief that he wouldn’t be angry, if anything he would be just as conflicted. I prayed he would be.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” My mom asks again, resting her hand on my shoulder as I lean over the toilet, hoping this will be the last time I get sick until Fez leaves. It was embarrassing enough that I had this huge secret, I didn’t want to make it seem like I had any less control over myself and my body. How many times can one person be betrayed by their body? “I can stay, just in case. Take over if you can’t do it.” She brushes my hair back softly as I stand up, handing me my toothbrush as I huff.

“He’s a good guy, mom. I’ll be okay.” I mutter but not completely believe my own words. “I just don’t want this to be the end of our relationship.” I whisper, brushing my teeth quickly as she watches me from the doorway. She’s just as nervous as I am, her fingers picking at the skin around her fingers as she watches my every move. I know she was just worried about my wellbeing and I knew it was because she had been in this position before. And, in her case, it didn’t end in her favor and it left her a single mother.

I didn’t want to be a single mother.

I wanted babies, I wanted Fez, I wanted the pets and the white picket fence bullshit. I wanted a mediocre life with him because anything that he would give me would be beyond my wildest dreams. I felt fucking stupid, convincing myself in and out of love with him. I wanted to allow myself to fall in love with him, the emotions that this little sucker inside of me was making me feel was taking a hefty toll on me.

Stepping into the kitchen, I watch as my mother retreats back into her bedroom with a reassuring smile, my eyes staring at the door. I did the math in my head, knowing that he would be here any minute. Any second. My heart pounds in my chest as I hear someone approach my door, their feet seen in shadows through the crack under the door. I hear a small hesitant knock on the door moments later, a forced breath leaving my chest as I take small steps. This was it, this is the make or break moment. I cling to myself as I unlock the door, slowly opening it to reveal myself to Fez. His face is soft but worried as he looks over me, his brows pulled together in concern.

“Hi handsome.” I whisper bashfully, my anxiety lessening a bit as he smiles at me, taking a step closer to me as I look up at him. He looked exactly that, handsome, with a bright blue polo, the collar folded over. It made his blue eyes shine and his ginger beard stick out even more than it did normally. His hand gently reaches out to rest on my waist, his lips pressing gently against my forehead. “Look-” I start but he cuts me off with a quiet laugh. He reaches behind him, shutting my door as I wait for him to continue.

“Don’t say shit.” He whispers, his hands reaching up to cup my cheeks gently. His thumbs gently brush over my cheekbones, my head bobbing in a quiet nod, letting him have a moment to talk. “I missed you. I don’t care what the reason was, I don’t care if you don’t wanna talk about it- I get it, alright?” My heart swells at his words, his gaze oblivious to what sits on the table behind me. “I get that you might be scared or some shit, I know you got issues with trust and I get it. You don’t gotta explain it to me or nothing. But you just need to listen and just give me- give us a chance. Please.” He whispers in a quiet plea, his eyes flickering back and forth between mine as he panics. It made me sick to think that his mind talked him automatically into thinking that I was leaving him. I shake my head almost immediately as I try my best to reassure him. But nothing could prepare him for what he was going to learn about me, about us.

“Fez…” I mutter, my chest heaving in a deep breath as I pull his hands away from my face, his heart breaking in front of me. “I just need you to sit down a-and listen, alright? I need you to sit and listen to me talk and not say anything.” My hands rest on his chest, his heart thumping quickly under my touch. His eyebrows pull together in confusion but he nods anyway. “And I need you to not be mad or yell…” I add, knowing based on his reaction that he would never think about raising his voice at me. I take his hands in mine as I lead him over to the table, my hands dropping his as I sit down with a huff. My eyes avoid the contents on the table but I can tell that he’s automatically hooked on the tests, his eyes looking over the lines. He looks over the table with rapid, scared blinks, his lips parting softly in shock. “I guess you could say that this isn't completely my fault.” I whisper with a nervous laugh, trying to break the tension, watching as he sits down in the chair across from me, his hand gently reaching up to rub over his face. “I have the, uh, paperwork from the doctor's office if you wanna look at it. I wanted to be prepared…” I whisper, trailing off, watching as he freezes, his breathing quickening as time goes by. “This is why I’ve been so off.” I add, watching as he nods slowly, his eyes finally flickering up to look at me. His eyes are a bit teary, maybe sadness, fear even. The sight doesn’t seem to comfort me but does calm the part of me that was worried he’d be angry with me. He was the furthest from angry. “I don’t know if I have to specify this but it’s yours and, uh,” I take the papers in front of him, flipping to the page that says the conception date, “it was from the night we met. So that makes me just around sixteen weeks.” I gulp, reaching out to chug down some of my water in front of me to keep me from throwing up once more. He takes a deep breath, his eyes widening briefly before letting out a small chuckle.

“This why you threw up on that jackass?” He asks quietly, my lips spreading out into a relieved smile, nodding gently. He pauses for a brief moment, the room falling silent before he sighs sadly. “Why didn’t you tell me when you first were worried about it?” He asks quietly, scooting his chair around the side of the table to sit next to me. Well it was nice to see that he wasn’t repulsed. He was worried. I tuck my knees up to my chest as I reach up to play with the necklace around my neck, letting out a sigh.

“I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.” I whisper, looking at the papers in front of me, the bolded positive making my stomach hurt. “I went yesterday to the doctors and got blood work and everything. I told my mom about us, about the, uh, baby.” I add, his hand reaching up to rest on my knee as I shiver anxiously. “She took it surprisingly well, better than I could’ve imagined.” I explain as his shoulders relax a bit at my words. The last thing he needed to worry about was my mom and her anger.

“Are you okay? Like, healthy and shit?” He asks softly, my hands fiddling with one of the tests in front of me as tears fill my eyes. “Hey…” He whispers, noticing my fragile state, his fingers giving my knee a gentle squeeze. His eyes are soft as he looks at me, not demanding anything but my attention.

“I’m fine, healthy. So is the baby.” I reach up, wiping my damp eyes with a loud sigh. “I just- My dad left when my mom got pregnant with me. She was a bit younger than me but I just feel like I fucked up or something.” I whimper, Fez’s arm stretching to rest behind me on the chair as he listens to me. “And I just- I didn’t know how you were going to react.” I worry, the anxiety catching up to me as I close my eyes, avoiding his curious, worried gaze. “I just want you to be happy so if this isn’t what you want, you can leave and never talk to me again. I wanted to give you the option and opportunity to think about it-” I ramble but Fez cuts me off with a scoff, his hand resting on my shoulder gently.

“What? Fuck no. I ain’t got nothing to think ‘bout.” He laughs quietly, his eyes soft as I look up at him through a teary gaze. I pause, his words not registering in my brain as I stutter.

“W-what?” I ask, a small smile spreading across his lips as he shrugs. “You have to listen to my plan-”

“No. I did not like the way that the plan started.” He laughs, pulling me into him as sobs take over my body. “Did you really think I was just gonna leave?” He asks quietly as he presses a kiss to the top of my head, my head bobbing in a nervous nod. “Fuck no, I ain’t leaving you.”

“I just wanted to give you the chance if you wanted to- I’m trying to be a good fucking person here, Fezco.” I cry at his playful laugh, my fist punching his inner thigh with an eye roll. “You just deserve a chance to not have me holding you down-”

“Woman, enough of that shit.” He whispers, rocking us back and forth gently as he rests his lips against my hairline. “Can you stop talkin’ bout me like I ain’t here. I’m here. I’m stayin’.” He reassures, my whole chest deflating at his words. “Okay? You want me to say it again? I’m stayin’.” I turn in my seat, my arms wrapping around his neck as I climb my way into his lap clumsily, just needing to be closer to him. He holds my shaking frame in his arms, his hands rubbing up and down my back. “This ain’t anyone's fault and you don’t gotta feel guilty.” His lips press against my shoulder, my head tilting to tuck into the crook of his neck as I let out a shuttered breath.

“I’m afraid.” I admit, the confession feels foreign as it leaves my lips. He had seen me in the scariest situations, drugs and violence, but to me, this was the epitome of danger. Of fear.

“Then we can be afraid together, alright?” He offers, my head nodding as I let out a deep breath, my hand cradling the back of his neck. “I got you.” He promises, his hands resting on my waist as I regain my composure. “If you think I’m not freaking out right now then get a grip, cuz I am.” He laughs, a small snort leaving my lips as tears of relief sneak out from behind my lashes. “I don’t really know that much about babies other than I was one and Ash was a fucking toddler when he came around.” He admits, his chin resting against my shoulder as he lets out a nervous breath. “But it ain’t fair for only one of us to be freaked. We both gotta be freaked for this to be fair, am I right?” He asks, my head bobbing in a quiet nod. “I’m glad you told me. I was startin’ to worry you didn’t like me no more.” My head flies up at his words, my sleeve wiping my nose as my eyebrows pull together. He looks genuine, his nervous gaze turns bashful as he looks away from me.

“Fez, it was the opposite.” I laugh tearily, watching as he grins softly. “I liked you so much that I was so terrified to tell you because I thought I was gonna lose you.” I whisper, reaching up to cup his cheeks as he tilts his head at me. “But I just wanted to make sure that you wanted to actually go through with this, that you weren’t just doing it for me.” I explain, his head shaking in disbelief.

“If you’re in this, then I’m in.” He whispers, my whole body relaxing at his validating words. “I want you.” He chuckles, the words sounding unrealistic to me as I roll my eyes playfully. His gaze finds mine once more, his fingers wrapping around my chin to keep me focused only on him. He didn’t want to give me one second to wonder, to doubt. “I been tellin’ you that. I don’t just say shit, Y/n, you gotta know that by now.” His eyebrows pull together as he tries to drill it into my mind but I just stare at him, still just as shocked as the first time he told me. “I just- I’m not good with words. But me telling you that I want you, that’s the easiest shit to say.” My heart aches at his words, my eyes flickering down to his lips as he smiles sweetly. He gently leans up to capture my lips in his, my mind spinning at the feeling. “You act like I don’t think about you twenty four fucking seven. Like I don’t think you’re the most remarkable woman I ever met.” He whispers against my lips, my tears drying against my cheeks as I listen to him, knowing that this is truly the happiest I’ve been in a long time. “You’re the only person I’d get a normal fucking job for.” He laughs loudly, giggles bubbling from my lips as I pull back to look at him with red and swollen eyes. “I think that’s hella romantic of me, actually. ‘I like you so much that I’d get a desk job for you’- like what the fuck is that shit? Is that what love is?” I giggle loudly at his words, my fingers linking behind his neck as I look down at him, all of my worry completely gone. His gaze shifts to something more serious, looking up at me through his lashes. “I will protect you till the day I die. The same goes for our kid.” He promises, my smile growing impossibly bigger. This went way better than I ever could’ve imagined.

“For someone who claims to be bad with words, you know exactly what to say to make me feel ten times better.” I whisper, his eyes widening happily as he nods sheepishly. “I wanted to, uh, look over the papers and stuff. I got pictures and I haven’t looked at them. It looked like a little blob on the screen.” I chuckle, standing up as I shake off my nerves as he lets out a nervous breath. He gently picks up one of the tests, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You gonna have to remind me to be gentle with you from now on.” He flirts, my cheeks warming at his words as he sets the plastic down. He watches me as I collect the papers, nodding him along to follow me. His hand rests gently on my back, letting me lead him into the living room. He sits down on the couch with me, his hand resting gently on my knee as I sift through the papers.

“I feel so fucking relieved.” I whisper, looking up at him as he nods, leaning down to capture my lips in a brief kiss. I hum quietly, my eyes fluttering shut as I grow even more excited by the minute. This was happening. I had the perfect man, I was in the prime of my life between my age and my success. My mother would protect me until the day I die and I had her endless support when it comes to Fezco and I. Fez presses a kiss to my cheek as he pulls me towards him, nodding towards the stack of papers with a smile.

“Come on, show me a pic of the little one.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @jamespotterswifey @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex--awesome--22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @letmebeyoureuphoria @rafecameronswhore @4lyssasworld @write-from-the-heart @ariianelle @vampviolets

Dangerous Woman Taglist: @garfieldsladybird @jackierose902109 @shawnieeboyy @eatmybuttfromtheback

Euphoria Taglist: @usernamelol @ssprayberrythings

Fezco Taglist: @fudgemesteveharrington @hi-my-name-is-riley @trinbby13

[latenitetea]

what a shame it would be - rodrick heffley

in which rodrick takes a few too many shots...

cw: underage drinking, swearing

word count: 3,228

~~~

Great victories deserve great parties.

That was the way of thinking at Crossland High School when it came to homecoming. After weeks of anticipation from the entire student body, the Crossland football team had defeated their rivals with one touchdown in the last five minutes of the homecoming game. It didn’t matter that half the school didn’t care much about football to begin with - with a victory that big, there were bound to be parties all over town.

As a varsity cheerleader, you weren’t surprised that you were invited to the biggest homecoming party in town. And you weren’t surprised by the atmosphere when you arrived, either.

Music blasted in your ears as you entered through the backdoor of the crowded house. Cheerleaders were laughing so loud you could feel it in your whole body, people were drunkenly dancing and making out with each other on the dance floor, and the football team was taking a celebratory round of shots for their biggest win. Hell, you even saw the student body council and academic decathlon team on the dance floor. Bottles upon bottles of all kinds of alcohol were being pulled out at the bar - kegs of beer, bottles of tequila and vodka, and a giant bowl of punch that was being spiked with a frothing drink. Still, the abundance of alcohol wouldn’t last long at a party this big. But before you could get to the bar to get your pick, you heard your name being called from across the room.

“Y/N!”

There were too many people covering your view to see who called you when you turned around, but you knew exactly who it was coming from. It wasn’t too hard to weave your way through the drunken couples and football players to find him.

Rodrick was leaning against the basement’s doorframe, wearing his favorite Converse, a pair of ripped black skinny jeans, and his Loded Diper t-shirt with a cargo jacket. He ruffled his unkempt, raven hair and took a long swig from his solo cup.

“Give me your keys.”

You raised your eyebrows, stifling a laugh. “Well, hello to you, too.”

After taking another sip of his drink, he held out his hand. Rolling your eyes, you took your lanyard and dropped your keys in his hand, which he put in the pocket of his jacket.

“There we go.” His mouth quirked up into a smirk. “I thought you said you’d never go to another homecoming party again after last year. You still owe me for that, you know.”

Memories of Rodrick holding you steady as you stumbled to his van and slurred your words resurfaced in your mind. You couldn’t hide the tinge of embarrassment that crept up on your cheeks.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Do you or do you not remember me having to brush your teeth because you forgot how to do it yourself?”

Your once pink cheeks now turned scarlet. Still, you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.

“Fine. But I definitely don’t owe you anymore after being the only reason you didn’t fail physics last year.”

He paused, taking another drink from his cup. You could tell the alcohol was beginning to slow his thoughts already.

“I guess I stand corrected.”

You cursed yourself for being sober, wishing you had more confidence to flirt with him. You swallowed the forming lump in your throat and attempted a compliment.

“Look at you, making yourself look nice for homecoming. You even got the new converse and eyeliner and everything.”

God, that couldn’t have been worse. You mentally facepalmed yourself as the words left your mouth.

He chuckled. “Well, I’ve gotta make myself look nice if I’m gonna get one of these cheerleaders to go home with me, right?”

Your embarrassment dissipated into a twinge of disappointment. Quick to cover up any sort of reaction, you cleared your throat.

“I’m gonna go get myself something to drink. See you around, Rodrick.”

You heard him call out a warning about “knowing your limits,” but you didn’t turn around or respond. At first, you were only planning to get buzzed tonight. Your disappointment, however, made a change to your plans.

“Hey, Y/N,” your friend, Allison, said from the bar with a wave. “What do you want to drink?”

“Something strong,” you insisted. With a nod, Allison filled a solo cup with vodka and topped it off with the frothing punch.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” She asked as she handed you the cup. You took a swig, ignoring the way the alcohol burned your throat.

“Who knows,” you sighed. “I just got back from talking to Rodrick.”

Allison raised her eyebrows. You paused for a moment, but you gave in to the temptation of getting your feelings out. “Every time I try to flirt with him, I feel like he ignores it. Or worse, he just brings up other girls.”

“Maybe you’re just not flirting hard enough,” Allison suggested. Her comforting smile became smug, pointing to the solo cup in your hand. "Or maybe that liquid courage will finally get you to tell him how you feel.”

The taste in your mouth turned sour at her teasing. Last year’s drunken shenanigans seemed harmless compared to any hypotheticals of you blurting out “Hey Rodrick, I’ve had a crush on you since last homecoming!” and forgetting it by morning. You placed your cup on the bar, deciding that your original plan of a buzz was the safer option. “Actually, I think I’m gonna stick to beer tonight.”

Allison let out a laugh. “Whatever you say. But your feelings are gonna eat you alive at some point. You’re gonna have to tell him how you feel eventually.”

“Emphasis on eventually. See you, Allison.” You gave her a small wave and went out to the dance floor, hoping to find some of your friends and dance your way into forgetting about Rodrick.

~~~

As the wild night began to die down, waves of stumbling high schoolers started leaving the party. Watching the clock hit 3 AM, you decided that it was time for you to head home. Waving goodbye to your friends, you made your way out of the house and to your car, more than ready to open the door and practically fall asleep at the wheel and-

Damnit.

That asshole still had your keys, didn’t he?

Pulling out your phone, you called Rodrick, nearly praying that he didn’t already leave. As you put your phone to your ear, you heard another phone’s ringtone go off. Muttering a “what the hell?” under your breath, you looked up from your car.

Rodrick was standing on the sidewalk across the street, holding onto a streetlight pole as though it was taking everything in his power not to fall.

A noise of both amusement and concern left your lips, and you hung up the call and made your way over to him.

“Hi,” was all he said. His eyes were glazed over and a sheepish smile was spread across his face.

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh, how the tables turn, huh?”

“I don’t,” he paused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You let out a laugh. “You’re drunk off your ass.”

“No, I’m not!” He blurted out defensively. You cocked your head, giving him a do-you-really-think-you’re-gonna-convince-me look. After a moment, he sighed. “Maybe I’m a little drunk.” He let out another sigh, but it quickly turned into a fit of giggles.

Suppressing the thought that his drunken giggles were extremely cute, you draped his arm over your shoulders. “Come on, drummer boy, let’s get you home.” Rodrick leaned his bodyweight into your side, trying not to fall in the middle of the street.

“I like that nickname.”

“Where’d you put my keys?” You asked him. Instead of answering, he broke into another fit of giggles. With a sigh, you pushed down your embarrassment and started rummaging through the pockets of his jacket. He leaned his head into the crook of your neck, making butterflies swarm in your gut. You tried your best to ignore them and finally pulled out your keys from his pocket, helping him into the passenger seat of your car.

“Wanna hear something funny? I wanted to take home the cheerleader with me. But now the cheerleader is taking me home.” His smile turned into a smirk as he buckled his seatbelt, and you reminded yourself that he was only joking.

“You’re a pervert.”

“You’re pretty.”

Your eyes widened at what Rodrick had just said. The next second, you couldn’t be more thankful that it was too dark to see the blush on your cheeks. You believed that he meant what he said for a second, but the smell of alcohol on his breath brought you back to reality.

“You’re really drunk.”

“You’re really pretty.”

Instead of responding, you started the car and turned on the radio, hoping that it would act as a distraction.

Pulling out of the driveway, you started the drive home. You heard Rodrick laugh again from the passenger’s seat. And then he placed his hand on your thigh.

Your eyes widened in shock, and you tried to stop your breathing from turning shallow. “What are you doing?”

“Flirting with you.”

Your cheeks burned at his direct manner, but you reluctantly took his hand off your thigh. “You can’t flirt with me when you’re drunk.” Pulling into his driveway, you helped him out of your car and to his front door. You grabbed the spare key from under the doormat and opened the door.

After helping him to his room, you filled up an empty glass with water and grabbed a bottle of pain medicine from his kitchen, bringing it upstairs and placing it on his nightstand.

“Here’s for tomorrow when you have a hang-“

“I don’t remember how to take off my shoes.” Rodrick looked up at you from where he was sitting on his bed, his blank stare turning into another eruption of laughter. “I sound like you right now.”

You sighed, letting out a chuckle. You took off his Converse and his jacket, placing them in his closet.

“Well, as long as you don’t need anything else I better get going-“

Before you could finish your sentence, Rodrick grabbed you and pulled you onto his bed. “Can you stay a little while?” Your cheeks burned even brighter, and you knew he knew it too. His flirting was overwhelming; you thought you were going to explode from the butterflies. Still, you managed to stay somewhat composed.

“You need to sleep.”

“I don't want to sleep.”

You shook your head, but the look on Rodrick’s pleading face was enough to convince you. “Fine.”

“Why don’t you let me flirt with you?”

“What?”

Rodrick was looking directly at you. “I always try to flirt with you. And then you act like I’m just joking.”

You wanted to tell him that he didn’t know what he was talking about, that he was just drunk and the alcohol was talking. But Allison’s words of advice were echoing in the back of your head.

You’re going to have to tell him how you feel eventually.

“Because I didn’t think you could ever be serious about actually liking me.”

His eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “Of course I’m serious. You’re the prettiest girl in school, you like good music, and you’re just so nice. And pretty.”

You let out a chuckle. “I bet you weren’t thinking those things when you were brushing my teeth for me last year.”

"Yes, I was," He moved a piece of hair from your face. “That’s when I realized I had feelings for you, Y/N.”

The smell of alcohol on his breath was enough to make you want to burst into tears. Here you were, laying on Rodrick Heffley’s bed, close enough to make out the dark outline of his pupils, and you were confessing how you felt for him. And he wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning.

“Can I kiss you?”

His abrupt question silenced your thoughts. “What?”

He closed his eyes and started leaning in for the kiss, but once you processed what he had just asked, you pulled away. “Not right now.”

“Why not?”

You took a deep breath, trying to slow your racing heartbeat. “Tell you what. If you wake up tomorrow and you decide that you still want to kiss me, you can kiss me.”

He thought about your offer for a moment. “Okay. But tomorrow feels so far away.”

“Tomorrow won’t feel far if you go to sleep.”

He smiled and buried his head into your side. “You’ll stay until I fall asleep, right?”

“Right.”

“Promise?”

You felt the urge to cry again. You knew that every promise made tonight would be broken by tomorrow.

“Promise.”

You laid in his bed as his breathing slowed into soft snores. Taking one last look at him, you gently climbed out of his arms. As much as you wanted to stay, wanted to wake him up and confess every feeling you had for him, wanted to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him, you knew that would be wrong. You had to ease the inevitable future pain as much as you could.

So you grabbed your keys and left, not finding it in you to look back.

~~~

When Rodrick woke up, he could barely find the energy to open his eyes. The ache he felt across his entire body was throbbing, but he fought the urge to give in and go back to sleep. Opening his eyes, he saw a glass of water and pain medicine sitting on his nightstand.

Considering how awful he felt, there was no way he put that there. Taking two of the pills and downing the glass of water, he tried to connect some of his memories of the night before. As the medicine started to set in, some of his fuzzy memories began to clear. Taking a shot of tequila with his bandmate, taking another shot of tequila with his bandmate, your face turning bright red when he reminded you of when he took care of you last homecoming.

Even though he’d never find the courage to admit it, you looked cute when you blushed. And he always seemed to have butterflies in his stomach around you after last year's homecoming party. But there would be absolutely no way he would ever admit that.

You probably were the one that got him home last night. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that you saw him that drunk, even if he’s seen you even drunker before. He hoped he hadn’t said anything too humiliating to you last night.

His stomach twisted with another wave of embarrassment. What had he said last night?

He stood up, noticing your jacket laying on the other side of his bed. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and unknown embarrassment. He picked up your jacket and grabbed his keys to his van, ready to give it back and thank you for getting him home last night.

But when he picked up the jacket, more memories flooded his mind. You laying in his bed, him pulling the hair out of your face, you being close enough to him that he could have kissed you.

Oh, shit.

He ran to his closet and threw on his converse, too frantic to even tie them. Running out the door, he practically jumped into his van and started the drive to your house.

~~~

You sat on your porch, drinking a cup of coffee and enjoying that crisp October air on your cheeks. Thankful that you didn’t have even the remnants of a hangover, you were certain that every upperclassman at Crossland was sporting a massive one.

You opened your phone and anxiously twiddled your thumbs at the keyboard. You wanted to text Rodrick and ask him how he was feeling, but you were too nervous to contact him after last night. Hell, you weren’t even sure if you would ever be able to look him in the eyes again.

Your concern for him overshadowed your embarrassment. No matter where your relationship with him stood after last night, you still cared about him. Pulling his contact up on your phone, you typed a short message.

Morning, sleepyhead. You feeling ok after last night?

But just as you were about to hit send, you saw a van barreling down your street from your peripheral vision. You didn’t need to see the messy writing on its side to know who’s van it was, either.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Did Rodrick remember what happened last night? Was he here to reject you, to tell you that he couldn’t even be friends with you anymore? You wanted to run inside your house and pretend you weren’t home, but you felt frozen in place.

The van pulled into your driveway, and Rodrick stepped out from the driver’s seat. He was still wearing the same outfit from the night before, but he had his drumsticks in one hand and your jacket in the other. He ran up to your porch, almost frantically.

“Y/N?” He said.

You took a shaky breath, trying to act as casual as possible. “Hey, Rodrick, you feel okay after last night?”

“I’ve had worse hangovers. Er, you left my jacket at my house.” He handed you your jacket.

“Thanks.” You shifted on your feet nervously, looking for the right thing to say. See you Monday? Sorry I confessed my feelings to you last night?

Rodrick looked down at his feet. “Can we talk?” He blurted out.

A plethora of curses went through your head, and you felt the urge to run into your house and curl up in a fetal position until you disappeared. Still, you stayed standing where you were.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Last night, did we,” he anxiously twirled his drumsticks in his hands, “did we kiss?”

Your eyes widened. He did remember last night.

“Well, you wanted to kiss me.” Your stomach churned, and your head was swirling with so many thoughts that you couldn’t stop talking. “But we didn’t kiss because it was just the alcohol talking and I know you didn’t actually want to kiss me and that last night was just the alcohol and I get that you wouldn’t want to kiss me which is totally fine and really it’s no big deal-“

“It wasn’t the alcohol talking.”

Rodrick looked up from the ground and stepped closer to you. You had never seen him look more serious in your life.

“Y/N, everything I said last night. I meant it.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve... I’ve felt this way about you for a while. And I know I’m not a serious person, but I am really serious about this. And I really, really like you.” He took another step closer, and once again, he was close enough that you could see the outline of his pupils.

“So about that promise we made last night,” your breath hitched in your throat, “I think it would be a shame if we broke it.”

“You’re right,” Rodrick’s shy smile spread into a smug grin. He lifted your chin so your faces were barely inches apart.

“It'd really be a shame, wouldn't it?.” He said, closing the gap between your lips.

[bloodyknucklesandbleedinghearts]

Cool (pt. 2)

Warnings: suggestive(?) I think that’s it

“Captain! We’re being shot at!” A voice came from the hallway.

“Get ready to submerge, then.” Law walked out of the room, leaving me alone on his bed.

“Well… what now?” I mumbled to myself, standing up and walking out as well.

“Who’re you?” Two guys stared at me.

“Y/N… I assume you guys are on Law’s crew then?”

“What are you doing here?” He ignored my question.

“Isn’t she with the Kid pirates?!” The other one pointed at me as well.

“Not anymore.” Law stood behind them. “She’s with us.”

“She is?!” The first one asked, surprised by the new information.

“Yes. Y/N, this is Penguin,” the first one waved, “and Shachi.” The other one waved as well. “Guys, this is Y/N.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” A polar bear asked.

“Oh, you talk.” I smiled warmly at the bear. “That’s awesome!”

“Uh- Thank you.” He blushed.

“No, we aren’t… dating.” Law coughed.

“Not yet.” I sighed dramatically, shaking my head and patting Law on the shoulder before walking past him to go explore the sub.

I could hear Law sputtering out some form of a response behind me.

This time, I was the one who smirked.

There were double doors at the end of the hallway as I turned a corner. I opened them and found what I figured was an operating room.

Surgeon of Death… makes sense

Everything was so neat and clean, nothing like Kid’s ship. It felt surreal.

“Your captain is persistent.” I turned around. Law was standing in the doorway

“He’s not my captain anymore.” I grit my teeth.

“Sore spot, huh?” He moved to stand in front of me.

“Not really… I don’t care.”

“You’re not a very good liar.”

“I am when I wanna be.”

“Why didn’t you wanna be convincing then?”

“‘Cause no matter what I said, you would’ve known I was lying.”

“Your eyes give you away.” He chuckled.

“Well… whatever.” I crossed my arms.

“Come on, its not that hard to read you, Y/N.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, like when I got close to you earlier and you got all flustered.” His smirk was back.

“In your dreams! You’re not even my type.” I scoffed.

“Then what is your type? Gingers with anger issues and too much time on their hands?”

“No. I like people who can keep me entertained, people who I can see myself staying with for a while.”

“So you don’t see yourself staying with me for a while?”

“No… I didn’t say that.”

“So you do like me.”

“I… sure.” I laughed. “I like you more than Kid, anyway.”

“Are we talking about before or after tonight?” He entered the room fully, stopping to stand right in front of me.

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Then answer it.” He leaned down, his breath fanning my face as he gazed at me with half-lidded eyes.

“Af…ter?” It sounded more like a question.

“Thought you were good at lying.”

“Thought you were smarter than to believe a pirate.” I stuck my tongue out.

“You’re feistier than I thought you were.”

“A lot of people underestimate me.”

“They won’t while you’re with me.”

“Uh huh, sure.” I rolled my eyes. “Anyways, it’s late. I’m gonna go take my spot on the floor.”

I pushed past him, making sure to brush against him slightly.

“Tease.” I heard him mutter as I left.

“Like you’re one to talk.” I shouted behind me as the doors closed.

It felt weird to be laying down on the floor, but not as weird as it felt to not feel the floor rocking back and forth from the waves.

“You were serious about sleeping on the floor, huh?” Law chuckled.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I don’t wanna push your boundaries or anything.” I mumbled, my eyes still closed.

As I began to drift off, I jolted awake again at the feeling of being carried.

“Fu- what?” I murmured groggily.

“You’ll move too much on the floor, it’s easier to have you here.” He looked away, removing his coat as he slipped under the covers next to me.

“Careful, you might seem like you actually care about me.” I teased, turning on my side to face Law.

“Shut up.” He turned to face me as well.

“Make me.” I challenged. It was a jokingly childish taunt, one that I used often when I was in a particularly immature state of mind. He simply smirked and leaned closer to me. Before I could fully recognise what was going on, his lips were on mine.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He turned over.

“You… ok.” I turned onto my back, staring at the ceiling.

It was gonna be a long night.

A/N: y’all want another one? ‘Cause if I make another one, there’s gonna be smut. 100%. I didn’t do it in this one ‘cause like… I’m not too good at writing smut, but if y’all want smut, I’m willing to give it a try.

[maijobi]

back to you

dabi x reader

summary: when things don’t go well in your relationship, you find it best to end it... 

a/n: it has a good ending I promise. I did kinda hurt myself writing this I don't even know why. but sad dabi really does make me feel things.

———————————————————————

your hands were in your hair, doing your best to not pull every strand out of your scalp. your eyes were closed and you were doing your best to calm yourself down, counting down from ten.

“dabi, we have had this conversation for over a hundred times. you can’t control me. and why can’t you just trust me for once?”, you said, finally  opening your eyes and looking at dabi.

“fine”, he said clenching his jaw. “go. let all of those people see you. go. you know what, don’t come back tonight will you?”

“stop overreacting”, you said, breathing out heavily. “I'm sick and tired of you constantly telling me what to do. I'm your partner, not your child. I know my limits and I know what to look out for. and who are you to tell me to not come back tonight? this isn’t just your place. we live here with a bunch of losers, what makes you think you’re more special than them? what makes you think you overpower them? what makes you think you have more to say than us?”

he took a few steps closer to you and looked down at you with a wrinkled nose. “I just don’t like my partner going out where there are people that will look at them. I don’t like how you can’t keep your mouth shut around people and let them flirt with you. I can’t stand you going to places and not knowing your limit, when you claim you do.”

“just because I let people talk to me, doesn’t mean I'm letting them flirt with me?”, you confusedly said. “oh I apologize dabi. I apologize that I do not prefer to burn people to the ground when they give you a genuine smile. I apologize that I couldn’t become as great as you”, you sarcastically said while throwing your hands in the air and then dropping them. “do you hear how stupid you sound? we have this discussion almost every day, but I can’t seem to get some senses into you. I'm tired of this, dabi. I'm tired of having to explain myself every day when I know I'm not doing anything wrong. I can’t talk to anyone before I have you breathing against my neck telling me to stay away from that person.”

“sweetheart, dollface, sugar”, he said with gritted teeth, taking steps closer to you and holding on of your hand and placing it over his heart. “don’t make this harder for the both of us and just don’t go outside will you?”

you pulled your arm away from his grip. “not this time dabi. I'm sick of this. sick of you wanting to control everything I do. you wanting to have a dominant role in this relationship. why is that even needed? why can’t you treat me as an equal? can’t you for once just let me live? I'm tired, I'm tired of telling myself that you’ll change when you don’t”, you said, finally showing the frustration on your face. 

“and you think I'm having fun?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “you think I enjoy seeing you having fun with someone else? it hurts you just as much as it does me doll”, he said, raising his voice. “it’s also hard for me to see you flirting back with other people! know your fucking limits”, he said placing his hand on your chin and pulling it up slightly.

“don’t act like you are right here”, you sat, pulling your chin away from his grip and taking a step back. “for once. for fucking once accept that you can’t control everything I do and that you can’t overpower me. respect goes both ways, but I'm not seeing any on your accord.”

“now you’re just talking bullshit”, he said in a loud voice, laughing to shake off his frustration. “what does this even mean?! what is it that you’re trying to accomplish here? what is it that you so desperately want, huh? attention from someone else? if you’re not even gonna listen to my feelings, how am I supposed to take yours in account? you only do as you please and where does that bring us, huh?! where the fuck-!”

“that maybe perhaps we’re not meant for each other”, you interrupted him. “that maybe we’re just not fit for each other.”

his face dropped and you saw every emotion pass on his face. he was confused. he was confused as to the words you had just dared to speak, something he didn’t even think about once. to him this was normal, to him this was behavior that should be present in a relationship. to him, fighting everyday seemed normal. but his motives for this relationship seemed to be totally different from yours.

“you must be kidding no”, you said with a distressed smile. “h-how can you just easily say something like that?”

“because you made sure I did. if you just for once tried to understand me, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened.”

he walked closer to you and held your shouders. “you’re kidding right?”

“i’m not, dabi. I'm being very much serious right now. how can I continue this when my feelings are being invalidated on a daily basis? how am I supposed to respect you further when you literally treat me like your pet?”, you said a brushing off his grip on your shoulder. “I can’t do this when all of this only brings me anxiety and constant stress?”

he looked at you, lost in another world progressing what you had just said. it surely couldn’t have been true, you were joking right? but the expression on your face made him his eyes go larger and his mouth almost hung open. “y-you can’t be serious”, he said with a smile, but that soon dropped when he shook your head.

“i’m not”, you said turning around and walking to the door.

you didn’t turn around to look back at him, and he made no attempt to stop you. perhaps he hadn’t even believe that you actually left. or maybe he was just waiting for you to finally leave him. maybe this was for the better you thought, but for dabi this was a whole different experience. 

he was convinced you were coming back that night, he convinced himself that you would. so when you didn’t he totally lost it. the person that barely texted you had spammed you with messages and missed calls, leaving behind various emotions. he didn't know what he was feeling. this was all new to him.

dollface, you’re not serious right?

you’re coming back tonight right?

I'm sure you are...

you didn’t take me seriously, did you?

please come back.

please look at your messages.

it’s past midnight, please come back.

don’t scare me like this. just come back already. 

please...

you looked at your phone, tapping the corners or your phone. you decided to not answer, but that left you in a weird state of mind. you didn’t know what you were feeling. were you happy? sad? relieved? more stressed? you didn’t even know. you felt numb. 

you found your way to an old friend, asking if you could stay over until you figured out what you would do to survive. you locked your phone and threw it next to you on the bed. you allowed yourself to fall with your back on the mattress. you’d feel better in the morning, is what you tried to convince yourself. but would you really?

you woke up with a heavy headache. it was hard to even sit upright. but when you opened your eyes it was still dark. there was heavy rain outside and falling back asleep seemed like an impossible thing right now. 

you tapped on your phone letting it light up. 

3 a.m.

you sighed. what were you gonna do now? you felt too stressed to even close an eye. you didn’t know what you were supposed to do. you loved him and he probably loved you too, but this couldn’t go on forever.

you looked at your screen again, not missing all the messages he had left behind.

please I know I fucked up, but please just come back.

you can’t be doing this.

and many more messages like that had filled your phone. you frustratingly brushed your hand through your hair and sighed loudly. it felt wrong. it felt wrong to have left like that in the middle of an argument. but at the same time this had happened so many times that you couldn’t just do nothing. 

you rose from your bed, still not answering any of his messages. your phone rung every five minutes, but you just didn’t pick it up. you walked to the kitchen and filled a glass with water only to leave it on the counter after seeing his new messages.

I really need you.

I don’t need anybody else.

just you. so please, please come back.

you blinked once, then twice and then many more times. dabi had really said he needed you. the independent guy, who would refuse help from anyone had said he needed you. you weren’t sure what to do. you paced around the kitchen, biting down on your nail. your phone made a sound again.

I just really... can’t live without you.

you sighed loudly and with a quick steps you walked to the door. you put on your shoes and ran out the door taking the keys with you. the rain splashed on your skin, clothes and hair, making you soaked in an instant as you ran down the street. but you didn’t care. the only thing that ran through your head was wanting to see dabi. wanting to see him share his feelings and wanting to see him need you. 

even the bad memories had a good ending for you. every time you fought, you’d fix it together. so why couldn’t that be done now? why did you have to act so selfishly again? you knew you were partially right, but at the same time you knew this wasn’t right. all your memories with him flooded in your mind and it made you run faster.

your feet dragged you to the place you had thought he was, because you knew he wouldn’t be at the residence. he would be at the place that caused his trauma, but at the same time was his most visited place. 

the forest were he had supposedly died. the forest where his dad had refused to come to. the forest with his last memories of home.

you stopped in track when you saw his figure. his back facing you and his head looking up. he was wearing a front zip hoodie with the cap over his head. allowing the droplets to hit his face. he had heard something so he turned around.

when he saw you standing there in the rain he took one step and reached out his hand, but stopped when you only stared at him. you were out of breath, breathing in and out heavily as your chest heaved. 

you looked at him, seeing the sad expression on his face. you shook your head and started walking, but before you knew it you were running to him. you ran and when you reached him, you threw yourself on him, holding him like you never did before.

he was in shock, not being able to do anything, just allowing you to slowly pull him down for the hug. when you pulled away you held his face and searched it, but before he could say anything you crashed your lips against his, tasting the rain on them. it was still pouring and this might have been the closest thing to an actual romantic scene the two of you had. 

your lips danced together and you melt in each others touch. he finally allowed himself to be embraced and snaked his arms around your back to deepen the kiss. he pushed you against him and moved his hands to your neck to pull you closer. your hands slid down and rested on his chest.

when he pulled away he looked you in your eyes. water droplets were falling on your face and he made an attempt to wipe them away though the rain hadn't stopped. you wanted to say something, but he shut you up by pulling you in once more and giving you a small, but soft kiss.

“i’m sorry”, he said, pulling you flush against him to hug you. “I'm sorry for always wanting to control you. I was just scared.”

you slid your arm around his waist and hugged him back. “scared of what?”

“of you leaving”, he whispered just loud enough to hear above the splashing raindrops. “I haven’t been open about my feelings. I just didn’t know how to. but I was raised with the thought of rejection and people leaving me behind. I wasn’t used to all of this. I wasn’t used to having all this affection, so I was scared you’d leave just like the rest.”

you tightened your grip on him. “I don’t have a reason to leave. I just need you to be open with me like just now. so we can work things out together”, you said, looking up so that you were facing him.

he looked down and a soft smile formed on his face. he kissed you again and again and again until completely devouring your lips on his, not giving you a chance to pull away. but that wasn’t needed. you had understood the whole situation and the both of you were able to figure it out together. many ways had opened for the two of you and the both of you have yet to learn so much about each other. but you were both willing to change yourself for each other. because even if things weren't always great, the two of you would find their ways back to each other. 

[squishneedsahero]

Reasons

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 4 of 13

Word Count: 1809

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

"You're breaking up with me?" You say it like a question, offendedly and confused, from your point of view everything was going good, but apparently it wasn't.

"I am. I'm sorry y/n it's not you it's-"

"Nu-uh, Bruce Thomas Fucking Wayne you are not going end things with that cliche line," you say sounding pissed. "I love you and if you want to end things that is fine but you better as hell give me one good fucking reason why.

"But-no-were done y/n," he says, sounding confused as to why you're arguing with him. Why did you have to be so stubborn?! If anything it only made him love you more.

"No we aren't done at least until you give me a good reason. If you're going to end things with me then I deserve to at least know why when as far as I know everything is perfect according to Gotham standards," you cross your arms and pop your hip. This was the first real relationship you'd had in your life and him ending it without warning wasn't something you could handle. You needed to at the very least know why. Why had he invited you over? Why had Dick and Alfred greeted you normally? Just for him to try and end things? It made zero sense.

He looks away from you, with the angry tears in your beautiful eyes. You the first woman he has genuinely fallen head over heels for that he was currently trying to end things with. It was hurting him just as much as it hurt you, but he had a good reason. He didn't want you getting hurt because of his night job.

Both Alfred and Dick had tried to tell him you could handle it, and he knew they were right. You would be able to handle the fact that he was Batman, but he knew he couldn't handle you getting hurt. He knew that was his breaking point.

It's as you're staring at him with the tears beginning to run down your cheeks that he reaches his other breaking point. Seeing you hurting and confused, he couldn't bring himself to lie to your face another time.

"What?" You ask, seeing the slight changes to his posture and expression.

He takes a breath, "I'm trying to keep you safe y/n-"

"You're trying to keep me safe?" You ask your own expression softening. "Bruce," you reach a hand up to cup his cheek as you always had, but he catches it before you can touch him.

"Yes, I can't handle seeing you hurt. Even now, when I know I have good reasons for trying to leave you, I can't bring myself to actually do it because I can see how much it's hurting you even if you're yelling at me," his hand drops yours and comes to cup your cheek, a slight smile coming to his lips.

Your breathing hitches for a moment as he speaks, you can feel how genuine he is being, "Bruce-" actual tears begin to run down your cheeks at his proclamation of love. Your arms wrap around his torso and you lean your head against his chest, "Bruce, my love, that is the opposite of a good reason to break up with me. I hope you realize that."

His deep laugh echos through your ears, and his hand runs through your hair. "I know my dear, I can't do it. I can't bring myself to end things with you. If you had walked out after I tried the first time I would have, but I cannot bring myself to argue with you when I know deep down I'm wrong even if I like to think I'm keeping you safe."

"Well, as sweet as that is I'm glad you at least are acknowledging the fact that you're a dumbass for thinking it might work," you laugh gently and lean back to look at his face. "So, can I know what has you so convinced I'm going to be hurt if I continue my relationship with you?"

The two of you stand in silence for a few minutes just hugging each other before he says, "it'll be better for me t show you, as knowing you if I were to just tell you you would laugh and think I'm joking."

This of course causes you to laugh, "me? Laugh at you? What in the world makes you think I would do that?"

He laughs gently, "I don't know what would make me think that, dear." He doesn't wait for a real answer, instead taking your hand and leading you into the study and up to the beautiful dark colored oak wood grand father clock. He doesn't say anything as he moves the hands on the clock and it opens like a door revealing a staircase. He leads you down, still holding your hand.

You, are of course confused by this, because who the hell has a secret room in their house?! Well, billionaires, that's who. But that still doesn't tell you why he had a secret room. You look to him for an answer but he simply continues leading you down the stairs.

Once you reach the bottom of the stairs you stop, and look around amazed at the vast cave you found you were in. It's dark, and you can't see much so you revert back to default settings and ask, "you have a sex cave?"

He laughs, clearly amused with that question. The fact that he had expected any other reaction just showed him how often you surprised him. "No, y/n," he leads you a little further into the cave before letting go of your hand and saying, "wait here, I'm going to turn the lights on."

You nod, and wait as you hear him move off through the dark. Your mind was reeling, what in the world was this place? Whatever it was, it was important to him and he was trusting you with it.

It's after a few moments that the lights light up the large space. A gasp leaves you as you see on one end of the cave a huge computer screen built into the rock, on the other end a car, helicopter and a whole ass airplane. It's as you slowly turn in a circle that Bruce comes back over to you and catches you in his arms.

You were facing a taxidermy T-Rex as he leans down to softly say in your ear, "I'm Batman."

A chill goes down your spine and you know it's true, not that you could really question it when he has a bat-mobile and T-Rex in his basement. Your hands find their way down to rest on his, "I guess this would be a good reason to break up with me, if you're still wanting too."

He shakes his head, "I love you too much to do that to you. Plus, me telling you defeats the purpose of any of that stupidity," he says, grabbing your waist and pulling you into a deep kiss.

"So, this is why I couldn't spend the night?"

"Yes," he laughs softly and kisses you again as he picks you up. Your legs find their way to lock around his waist, as he carries you over to the chair in front of the computer. He sets you on the desk, kissing you deeply yet again, one of his hands traveling up your shirt to draw circles on your side.

How could he be the worlds greatest detective and also not have guessed that you, the woman he loves would argue with him when he tried to leave you? He had almost made the biggest mistake of his life that day and now all of his emotions were overcoming him, he wanted, needed you close to him.

Sooner than he wants you break the kiss and end the make out session. You gently kiss his lips one time and ask, "so, how much am I allowed to know?" You press another quick kiss to his cheek as you stand up, and say, "I love you."

He doesn't let you move far from him, sitting himself in the desk chair and pulling you into his lap. "Anything you want to know you can," he brushes your hair back from your face and tilts his head to press a kiss to your neck.

"Hey!" You laugh and push his face back from you. "I want you to answer my questions, not try and distract me!" You spin yourself to straddle him, a hand going to rest on his hip, "after questions, then maybe, I'll let you kiss me." You purse your lips in thought, "maybe I'll let you do more than just kiss me, but that depends on if you behave," you tease gently.

He laughs and shakes his head slightly, "alright, I'll restrain myself from kissing you anymore, until you have your questions answered. After that though," that smirk comes to his lips as he suggestively lets his hand go up the back of your shirt to rest on your shoulder blade.

You sigh dramatically, and roll your eyes gently, even if you were excited to see him like this. "Okay, I'll make it fast. Does this mean Dick is Robin? Is that Clark Kent guy actually Superman and that's how Dick knew him? Finally I'd like to formally apologize for doing your job that first time we met when Joker tried to shoot me and I went on autopilot and told him he had lipstick in his teeth."

Bruce laughs, "yes, Dick is Robin. I'm surprised you already put that together with Clark, usually Superman is far away so him wearing glasses works. And, my love, it is more than alright that you did my job for me. I couldn't have done it better myself, though I probably would not have fallen on top of Joker after flipping him," he teases gently and kisses your cheek, "but no, I should have known from that that you can handle yourself."

You smile and press a kiss to his lips, "well, at the very least I'm sorry for insulting you when I did thank you that night."

He laughs again, "y/n, I love every part of you and if I am honest with myself that is the night I started falling for you. You amaze me with your ability to laugh and stand strong in the face of danger, I save people every night and have never seen anyone else react like you."

You push a hand against his chest, "stop, you're making me blush."

He rolls his eyes and laughs at you again, before growing more serious as he looks at you, saying in a low, sexy, voice, "a deals a deal, y/n, I'm going to make you do more than blush tonight."

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation P12

Joe Goldberg x Reader x Love Quinn

Warnings: Abusive relationship stuff.

Notes: A new part to prepare ourselves for the next one... and the one after that, and the one after that, and so on until I eventually die. This one’s short, but progress has surely been made.

You... can’t believe this had just happened. Right infront of you, too. Forty, you had expected— but Love? Absolutely not. Even now, you desperately search your mind for an excuse, like a dream. This has to be a nightmare.

Amy is dead on the floor because of Love, and you couldn’t do anything to stop her.

“Y/N.” Love places her hand on the glass wall, attempting to bring your full attention to her. “Look at me.”

You shut your eyes tight after attempting to blink the troubles away. “I— c-can’t... I can’t look at y-you,” You speak with a dry throat, like you had just swallowed a handful of sand.

Love’s expression twists into one resembling your own. It’s a mournful look and one you can’t easily brush off when you peek her way. “Please look at me...” Love’s forehead hits the glass with a soft thud. “Please.”

“Why did y-you do that?”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” She inhales slowly. “I had no other choice.”

“Don’t— don’t say th-that.” You hiccup and pull at your sleeves. You’ve never felt so scared before.

“Please, understand,” She desperately looks to you, nearly mimicking your overwhelming worry. You don’t want to hear it, no matter how badly she wants to push through. Love was the only person in the world you believed understood you... she survived when you’d left and she was understanding when you came back... yet here you are, heavy air and a glass wall sits between the both of you and you had never felt so different and so misunderstood.

“Please, sh-shut up.”

“Please, give me a second chance.” She taps at the glass, though you refuse to meet her gaze. First Forty, then Joe, and now this.

There’s nobody in this town you can trust.

A phone rings, and Love jumps. The ringtone is unfamiliar, and as she observes you, she realizes it isn’t coming from the cage.

When she turns her head, she takes a long look at Amy’s form. It’s a mess, almost nothing clean about it. But... the ringing is coming from her.

Gulping down her previous expressions, Love steels her face and crawls her way to the corpse. She slides her hands across her pockets and easily slips Amy’s ringing phone into her palm to read the number.

The contact is nameless.

Love presses accept and slowly places the phone against her ear as she holds her breath. She didn’t know what she had expected, but a voice spoke above the silence before she could think.

“Get out of there.”

~

I hadn’t expected it to be so late by the time Forty finally let me go. He went on and on about the script and I nearly believed I was trapped in the endless cycle of... ‘Will, does this sound like something she would say?’ ‘Will, do you think she’d actually do this? I don’t want it to feel unnatural.’ ‘You’re starting to doze off there, Will.’... yeah Forty, I got it.

I’m tired as I drive, though I feel as though I had been carrying this exhaustion since work. Seeing Candace really lit something in me and I’m not certain I was completely ready for it. She’s a sneaky one, isn’t she? A real rat, I’d say. I hadn’t even expected to see her and I can’t say I’m happy either. I can’t fucking believe she had the gull to show her face here— at Anavrin too, of all places. She’s obsessed with me, absolutely struck by me.

I tighten my grip around the steering wheel, taking a deep breath as I return back to earth.

‘Earth to Will.’ I remind myself in Forty’s voice. It’s reassuring, oddly enough.

I stop at a red light. There are no cars around, so I look beside myself and observe the book I picked up for you— only to remember I had placed it in the backseat with a brown paper bag. There’s nothing bad in there, just a small order of fries? I hope you’ll understand I was in a hurry.

As I pull up to the parking, I feel good— surprisingly good. Actually, incredible. Despite Candace’s sudden appearance and my exhaustion, I feel amazing.

After removing the key from the ignition, I look myself in the mirror. Gussying up isn’t something I normally do, though tonight it feels especially right.

When I reach out to grab the brown bag, I accidentally knock the book onto the floor.

No matter, I get out of the car and open the back door, easily reaching below the driver’s seat to collect to book. I had expected it to be a little dirty but, I actually find something different altogether.

As I pull my hand back into view, a sheen device rests. A phone. More specifically, your phone. It must have slipped from your pocket the night I... picked you up. I let out the most relieved sigh of my life. This really is a good day, isn’t it?

As I open it, I notice the battery charge is doing fairly well. Perfect. I waste no time unlocking it, seemingly forgetting you’re all alone in that dark locker. There’s still no password, though nothing has really changed.

The most notable differences is the singular very risqué picture you’ve taken, which seems very out of place for someone like you, and the new contact in your messenger. But going back to my earlier discovery— this picture is meant for someone, it has to be. I bite my finger as I debate with myself. Forty? Love? I doubt you’re sending these to Candace. She’s not even in your contacts— unless... unless this new contact is her. It’s nameless, so I can only assume. But when I open the chat, I realize there’s absolutely nothing sent between the both of you. However, your most recent calls have been to this strange number— the new contact.

I shut the door after collecting the dropped book, holding it in my hand while the brown bag somehow holds it’s balance between my fingers. I’m using my other hand to scroll through your phone, mainly hovering over this strange contact of yours. I want to know who it is... and if it’s Candace, I wouldn’t mind having a word with her— though that may be a bad idea.

As I approach the locker, I place the brown bag and book on the ground to reach for my key. I don’t want to ignore it, however. That— that feeling I’m getting right now. The feeling telling me to call this mysterious stranger. After finding my key, I look up at the lock. It’s— well, to put it simply, my blood ran cold at the sight of it missing from the locker.

I don’t want to open it, atleast not now. I’m scared, I really am. Worried. I can’t believe the lock— the lock is on the floor. It’s not broken, I don’t think. I shift on my legs, my nails biting into my palms as I flex my hands anxiously.

Against all logic and reason, I’m convinced I need to try this number now. This has to be Candace. This has to be her. I look down at your phone, grit my teeth, and press call.

It rang, long and slow rings. Actually, very slow ones. It felt as though I had been waiting here for five minutes while the phone rang and nobody cared to pick it up.

Then suddenly, it’s declined.

I look down at your phone again, this time surprised. Whoever declined the call... should know you’re not on the other end. Why else would it get declined? Looking through your recents, none of your other calls with this stranger have been missed.

You know what? You’re right behind this door. I might aswell ask you myself.

[nagito-kissmaeda]

I don't know if I've Talked to you yet? But may i get Nagito with a Talentless! S/o who's a Degradee. So whenever He Gets angry and Talks about her because of her talent. She's attracted to it. But is able to hide it for a while. But one day she slips up ane admit she likes it to hajime and nagito happens to overhear it. (I'd love a Nsfw Fic) if your open.

ミ☆ Thanks for the request! This was very interesting for me to write because i dont usually make Komaeda so.......mean. It does get pretty filthy so i hope that’s okay ahah.  Word Count:  2882

Warnings: Fem reader, no pronouns, explicit sexual content, degradation, possessive behaviour

You’re not sure that Komaeda’s insults are having their desired effect.

Generally, the other students of class 77-B treat you perfectly well, even kindly. You’d braided Sonia’s hair for her once when it was windy and getting in her eyes, after that she seemed to take a liking to you and started inviting you to eat lunch with her in the main course building. At first you were very nervous, shaking as you lurked in the doorway, holding your bento box between your quivering hands. 

But then, “Good afternoon, everyone! I’d like you all to meet my new friend!” Sonia said brightly, and everything sort of fell into place.

Everything except Komaeda. 

Presently, he has you backed up against a wall, one hand pressed up beside your head. He’s quite a bit taller than you, and has to crane his head down when his lip curls up in disgust. You aren’t really sure what his problem is, but he finds a way to antagonise you almost every day. Like he’s trying to convince you to snap. It isn’t working, but it is doing something else.

“How much did your parents pay, huh?” He whispers, voice eerily delicate even as his eyes burn with vitriol, “How much did you sacrifice just so you could pretend to be worth something?”

Your mouth has gone dry. Your eyes flit around his face, trying too hard not to focus on the subtle movement of his lips. 

“Ah, are you too afraid to answer? Afraid of what I might think of you?” 

You are not afraid. 

Komaeda leans in closer, lips curling up in a snarl, “you mustn’t concern yourself with such things.“

You are something far worse than that.

“My opinion of you will remain less than dirt regardless of your answer.” 

You are aroused and a pathetic little moan breaks away from your mouth at the feeling of his breath on your face, at his closeness, and the way he leers down at you like you are nothing more than a nuisance to him. His tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his lower lip and you whine . 

He laughs, mistaking the sound for one of fear, “The only reason I don’t pull you from our classroom and lock the door behind you, is because Sonia seems to enjoy your company. I’m sure her little fancy will not last long.” He smiles, “so make the most of the honour while it lasts.”

Komaeda leans back from you, and it feels like you can finally catch your breath again. Trying your hardest to ignore the way your heart is racing and just how wet your panties are getting. He does not seem to notice, lips curling up in a smirk that makes your breath hitch as he turns on his heel.

He did not notice the effect he was having on you. Far too concerned with trying to get you away from the rest of his ultimate classmates before you have a chance to dirty them with your pathetic presence. After all, even he was above you and that was saying something. Komaeda leaves you quivering in the hallway and heads back through the open door of classroom 77-B, but the sound of running feet brings him pause. He closes the door most of the way, leaving it open enough that he can watch through the gap without you noticing. 

“Hey.” Hinata says breathlessly, coming to a stop where you are still leaning against the wall, “I saw Komaeda bothering you, are you alright?” 

Komaeda scoffs. Hinata is just as much a problem as you are, always hanging around Nanami-san like it’s his given right. 

“Huh?” You say, still noticeably shaking, “oh I’m fine.” 

Komaeda smirks. If asked, he would claim that he only harassed you for the good of his fellow classmates; he would not admit the exhiliarion he feels in the moments when he finally gets to be better than someone. When he has you up against a wall like that, when he talks down to you like that. He feels something in his gut. A twisting that feels almost euphoric. 

Hinata huffs and crosses his arms, “look, that guy's an asshole. I can see you shaking, did he threaten you or something?” 

“No! Not really? I’m just…..uh…..” Komaeda can see you twisting your hands with nerves, his brows draw together in confusion, “I think I…like it…” 

Hinata balks, “wait. What?” He hisses, and Komaeda is thinking something very similar.

“When he’s mean to me like that.” You breathe, chewing on your lower lip, “when he has me up against the wall I...feel...good…” 

“No. Stop. Please.” Hinata exclaims, waving his hands in front of his face, “look, we’ve got to get to class. I don’t want to hear anymore about this. Okay?” 

Komaeda’s breath is caught in his throat as he watches the both of you walking back down the hall. Horrified at the tightness in his crotch. He whirls around and leans back on the wall, cupping a hand over his mouth to hide his heavy breathing. 

Those little noises you were making, the way you were shaking beneath him. 

This had not been his intention. 

Though, he supposes he can entertain the idea. Just to see how you react. It might even be fun. 

*

A few days later, you are back in the mostly vacant classroom with Sonia and Ibuki, the latter is in the middle of painting the nails on your right hand. 

“I know you said you don't really like this colour, but it glows in the dark, so that makes up for it, rigggggght?” Ibuki says; her nailpolish skills are lacking so your fingers are a bit of a mess, but you’re having fun anyway. 

“I think i might scare myself tonight when i turn the lights off and my fingers start glowing.” you laugh, Sonia titters politely behind her hand, but her expression quickly changes. 

“Oh.” She says, looking over your shoulder, “Hello, Nagito.”

You freeze. Throat going dry. You are not prepared for another encounter with Komaeda. 

“Ah, Hello. It’s nice to see the both of you.” He says. It does not escape your notice that he purposefully didn't even acknowledge your presence. 

“Don’t get too close naggy-waggy.” Ibuki replies, tongue sticking out as she starts painting the nails on your other hand, “I must focus on my art!”

A shiver runs up your spine when you feel the warmth of another body behind you. Komaeda leans over your shoulder to look down at your nails as Ibuki paints them, you can feel his breath on the side of your neck, you can smell him. He smells really good, why does he have to smell so good?

“You’ve improved a lot since your last attempt, Mioda-san.” Komaeda says, you can practically feel the words on your skin.

Ibuki laughs, “Kaz was a very good sport when I spilled it all over his arms! Plus! He was glowing for three days straight and i actually think it looked pretty sick!!!” 

“You're very lucky to have someone as wonderful as Mioda-san do your nails.” Komaeda breathes, you turn your head just a little. His face is so close to yours, his lips quirked up in the corners just enough that you know he is mocking you. Then, as he finally begins to stand back up again, he whispers in your ear, “after all, you’re just a pathetic reserve course student, aren't you?”

You feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear, and you swear it can't be intentional, but a shudder runs through you so powerful that you accidentally bump the nailpolish out of Ibuki’s hand. 

You are too busy trying to help her and Sonia clean up the mess, to notice the way Komaeda looks back, hands in his pockets and smirking at how easy it was to rattle you.

Yes, he thinks. This will be fun. 

*

It continues like this for some time. Komaeda is always lingering close to you, whispering in your ear. He’s always loved watching you squirm, but now it feels like he is doing more often, more shamelessly. After weeks of what feels like almost endless torment, something finally snaps. 

You’re dashing down the hall at lunch, it’s a decent walk from the reserve course building to the main course, so you really have to put the leg work in if you want to spend any real time with Sonia before heading back over again. You round a corner and run headlong into Komaeda. The universe has a hilarious sense of humour.

“Ah.” He starts, cocking his hips to the side while staring down at you, “What rotten luck.”

You glare at him, “Rotten luck, indeed.” 

Komaeda laughs, “Is that so? I’m quite sure this is the highlight of your day.” You stiffen as he leans down by your ear, his long fingers coming to rest on your hip, “You do so enjoy it when I mock you, after all.” 

You feel his teeth on the side of your throat, not really biting, but pressing down just enough that you can feel them. You release a shaky moan, digging your nails into your palms.

“Just like a reserve course student to revel in my touch; in whatever form it comes.” His hand grips tighter, you can feel his nails pressing hard against your skin, “I could bite down so hard that you bleed, and you’d still moan, wouldn’t you?” 

You would. Oh god you would. Your legs are shaking, you can feel his warm breath in your ear and you’re becoming painfully aware that this is happening in the hallway. You swallow as your eyes dart open to the supply closet behind Komaeda. He grins saccharinely as he follows your eyes, grabbing you by the hand and tugging you down the hall. Before you have a chance to ask what is going on-

The door to the supply closet clicks shut, and you are suddenly very aware of your situation. It takes you eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light, but when they do, you can see the utter hunger in Komaeda’s eyes. You swallow.

“How...how long have you known?”

“Known what?” He asks, feigning innocence.

You huff, “don’t make me say it!” 

Komeda crosses his arms, “no, I seem to have forgotten. I’ll need you to remind me.” 

You avert your eyes, scowling down at the ground, “how long have you known, that your degradation turns me on?”

He grins, “Almost a month.”

Your head snaps back up in horror, “So you’ve been toying with me on purpose this whole time?” You scoff, “What am I saying, of course you have been.”

“You’re lucky that I pay attention to you at all.” He breathes, and your heart starts racing at the jangle of a belt buckle.

This can’t be happening.

“You should be worshipping me.” Komaeda purrs over the sound of a leather belt being tugged through its loops. Your legs are quivering.The snick of a button coming undone, the sound of a zipper, and the thump of your knees hitting the floor all happen within seconds of each other. 

Komaeda chokes on a laugh. “I thought I would have to ask you to kneel.” He pulls his cock out of his boxers, already half hard as a smirk crawls up the side of his face, “But it seems you already know your place.” 

His cock is very pretty. Pale and slim with a blush red tip that you can't help wanting to suck on. 

“Don’t worry.” Komaeda whispers, “I have very low expectations for someone as talentless as yourself. I’ll be impressed if you even manage to make me come.”

Arousal shudders through you at his words, leaning forward and giving the head of his cock a cursorly lick. His breath catches in his throat. Such a pretty sound, you want to hear it more. One of his hands curls into your hair as you open your mouth wide and take the whole head in, sucking gently before bobbing your mouth halfway down. 

“ Ah! ” Komaeda hisses, hips stuttering deeper into your throat, “What an honour for you... aha ...to have an ultimate’s cock in your mouth, what a privilege .” his words break off into a laugh, wheezy and breathless as you take him all the way down, tears prickling in your eyes as it becomes harder to breathe. His head thumps back against the wall of the closet, cock pumping harder and faster into your open mouth as his nails dig into your scalp. You can feel drool running down your chin and dripping down to the floor, keening and moaning around his cock as you lathe the underside of the head with your tongue. 

“Who...Who knew...that this would be your one use…” Komaeda stammers, hips twitching and rolling into your mouth over and over, “is this your talent? Aha! Is sucking cock your talent?”

You make a noise of affirmation, unable to form words as he keeps relentlessly fucking into you. One of your hands slips up under your skirt and into your panties. It isn't surprising how wet you are, moaning unabashedly as you circle your swollen clit with a finger. 

“Ah... Ah! Look at you!” Komaeda exclaims, voice high and breathy as he tries to hold back another moan, “Being used like this turns you on, doesn't it? I wonder if one of those reserve course boys could do this to you.” he laughs breathlessly, “I wonder if you would let one of those reserve course boys fuck your mouth in the supply closet.” he grins down at you, eyes wild and almost unhinged, “I dont think you would, would you? I think you only want me, isn't that right?”

“Yes…” you manage to slur around him, circling your clit faster and faster, “nghh...only...you”

Your assertion only spurs him on further, hiking on leg up over your shoulder and pressing the heel of shoe hard into the wall behind you, hips stuttering forward with no discernible rhythm. You moan deep in the back of your throat and curl your arm around his thigh, feeling the muscles flex below your fingers as fucks into your mouth with unbridled desparetion. For all his talk, he seems to find your blow job abilities pretty competent.

“Don’t... ahh! ...Don’t stop-“ he groans, teeth gritted together, sweat dripping down his brow, “I...I’m gonna…” 

You’re close too. Your fingers pressing hard on your clit, circling almost brutally as you take his cock further down your throat. You can’t help but peer up at him, lording over just how thoroughly ruined he looks. Usually so neat, so clean. He looks like a perfect mess and it makes you keen around him, hips grinding harder into your own hand as you get closer and closer.

“You’re mine...all mine” Komaeda rasps, twitching and moaning, “Your mouth is mine to fuck...no-no one else can— AHHH!” 

His head collides with the wooden wall so loudly that you’re almost worried it hurts, and then he comes hard down your throat. You aren’t far behind, knees shaking and shuddering under your weight as you come tumbling over the edge, absolutely soiling your panties. There’s a filthy mixture of cum and saliva dripping out from your mouth that you swallow as best you can with Komaeda’s softening cock still in your mouth. The foot he had up against the wall slowly drops, resting gently on your shoulder instead as he catches his breath. You can see his chest rising and falling, his eyes gently closed. He’s cute when he’s not being such an asshole. 

Finally, he pulls his hips back and his cock slips out of your mouth, there isn’t too much of a mess on that front, at least nothing you can’t wipe away with the back of your hand, but your panties are another story. You’re just going to pray that they dry off a little before you have to go back to class.

Komaeda slides his leg from your shoulder and leisurely starts tucking himself back into his pants. You aren’t really sure what you’re supposed to be doing, so you just sit on the floor and wait for him to finish.

He hums, reaching down and tilting your chin up with a finger, “maybe you aren’t entirely pathetic.” he surprises you when he leans down and slots his lips against yours, flicking his tongue into your mouth, “if I’m able to make time in my busy schedule, I could shove my cock somewhere else next time.” 

You moan audibly, nodding your head with probably a little too much gusto.

Komaeda grins, all teeth and gums, and says, “I look forward to it.”

So do you.

[aenaxes]

memories of a shooting star

[fives x f!reader] what answers can a falling star offer you when it dips into the atmosphere and calls you home?

warnings: none

w/c: 1.4k

a/n: for my sweet @murdertoothpick, “i am an aries, afab, my favourite time of the day is that time between 7-8pm (is that weirdly specific? maybe), i’m an introvert but i hc myself as an extrovert (don’t ask, or do; okay maybe i’m actually an ambivert), and i have no preference of n/sfw *lip bite*” i match you with (best boy) fives! i feel like he'd admire your energy, quiet as it may oftentimes be, and he'd have a knack for picking up on your comfort levels and knowing the right time to tug you close or nudge you further.

Sometimes, you allow yourself the luxury of letting your mind wander in the pressurized stillness between silent dogfights in space. When the brothers have gone to sleep and the generals take perch in high places in the turret towers, you sit over your flimsy army-issue blankets and summon the courage to wonder about breaking every regulation humanly possible.

What would a shotgun wedding look like in neutral space? What would it be like to tap Fives awake in the dead hours of night and hotwire an escape pod? What would it be like to look war in the face and, instead of bowing your head low and slowly breaking bone after bone under its weight, what if you simply refused?

If you squinted into the galaxy, could you see the dregs of another lost battle memorialized in light speed?

What would it be like to live?

How did it end up this way? You wanted to see the stars, those little specks in the night sky, so small you thought you might be able to scoop them into your palm if you reached out far enough. When did joining the war machine become a part of that dream?

They’re big questions.

So you start small, chasing the shadows of uncertainty with a grin as you lift a lighter to the smuggled sparkler stick pinched between Fives’s teeth.

Funny, how it was up to regulation to sleep against a plasma torpedo with enough firepower to knock a small moon out of orbit. But a thin stick of old-fashioned gunpowder and crude metals warranted something a little harder than a slap on the wrist.

But you see Fives grin around the wooden end of the sparkler he’d paid a merchant nearly triple for when he’d tugged you from the waterfront to the night market vendors. But you see him nearly drop the sparkler when he smothers down his laugh at your struggling attempts to get the stick to actually catch; you see him nearly drop it again when, finally, it begins to fizzle and pop soft yellow sparks between you. But you see familiar lights begin to dot the shoreline behind him; you hear Dogma yelp, Echo laughs, Jesse and Hardcase whoop over the fuzzy wavesound.

The stars don’t seem so far away anymore.

Fives reaches up to pluck the sparkler from his lips, offering it to you with a giddy triumph that trembles over his smile. You grin back, and you wonder if Fives sees the sparks in your eyes the same way you do his.

“That was in your mouth!” you laugh and twist your lips into your most convincing display of disgust as you shoo him away. “I thought that was going to be yours!”

“Baby, yesterday you literally asked me to spit in your—”

“Nah-ah-ah!” you cut him off. Briny air fills your open-mouthed grin, and you wonder if this is what the sparkler trail of a shooting star tastes like, warm with the retreating rays of twin suns sinking beneath the horizon, warm with Fives’s easy joy reflected over the gentle waves. “I’m not going to let you sneak an indirect kiss in while the boys are here.”

“Oh, baby girl, they know we do more than indirect kissing—” Fives starts.

“Ah-ah!” you tut, laughing as he reaches the sparkler towards your free hand.

You skirt his touch with a giddy shriek when you feel his knuckles brush over yours. It’s playground flirtation, it’s tag as Fives lopes after you, but the wind feels like you could call this little planet home when the war ends, when the Jedi step back, when you can look up and see the stars unobstructed by the shadow of a cruiser crusher overhead. For all that keeps you up at night, tonight, there is a warm breeze and Fives and the promise that if you turn your head, you will find family in the brothers lighting the shoreline with fizzling dots of light.

So you throw your head back. Your hair catches in your mouth and brushes over your nose as you backpedal over the sand. And when Fives, backlit by the late glow of the sunset, reaches for you, though you might be pretending to run from him, you reach back and close your fingers around gilded rays of light.

It had been a funny question to ask when you were younger: what does a star feel like, cradled in your palm? Would it consume you in its orbit? Would it be so hot it felt like you were freezing? Would it be nothing at all, just asteroid dust and the memories left behind?

It still feels a bit strange to ask, but now you have your answer.

The starlight is calloused and rough. It is young in light and yet ancient with memory. It is tired. It wakes up at 0400 to run bed checks and steel itself for another day in an ocean with no shore.

But it’s soft, too. It is the quiet, forgiving love of the dawn that crests over the waves without fail. It kisses your cheeks with honeyed warmth and lets you tug it back into bed for five more minutes. It opens itself to you and invites you to hold it close, starstreaks finally in your grasp and so, so warm in your palm as you lace your fingers with Fives’s and let him swing you up into his arms and close against his chest.

Fives brings his arms around your neck, wrangling you into a hug as you laugh and wriggle in his embrace. The sparkler crackles a few centimetres away from your cheek and showers you with cool embers as Fives dips his head low and nuzzles his beard against your cheek. Far behind you, Rex’s laughter crests with Tup’s and dips into wavesound.

By the time your laughter dies down, you realize you’ve chased each other to wobble ankle-deep in the warm ocean waters. Seafoam laps at the edges of the rolled hems of your pants, and it just feels right to wiggle your arms around Fives’s waist.

Your star skims the atmosphere and grazes close over the water’s edge, wrapping its iridescent tail around your shoulders and offering you a half-spent sparkler stick. And when you still your heart to look your shooting star in the eye, you find deep brown eyes and a boyish grin mellowing, softening with the steady burn of the sparkler’s waning lights.

Without thinking, you rise up to your toes. Sand slips over your feet, and the wind cools over your skin as you squeeze your hands over the small of Fives’s back and press your lips against his. You distantly register Jesse shooting a low whistle your way, followed by more laughter. But the warmth that spreads from the base of your ribs to the top of your head in the glow of the sparkler beside you is far from embarrassment.

“I thought you said no kissing?” Fives teases with a wry smile after you pull away and settle your heels back into the sand.

You shake your head, and you aren’t sure if you’re grinning because of the warmth in your chest or if the swell between your ribs makes it impossible to hide from his light. You squeeze your arms at his side and crane your head to peck over his beard.

“No indirect kissing,” you correct.

Fives rolls his eyes, but his teasing facade breaks with a yelp as the sparkler flame grazes over his thumb. The stick drops into the shallow waters and rocks in place where the waves lap around your ankles. Dogma yells something about littering before he dissolves into laughter with his brothers.

Reaching around into his pocket, you pull a fresh stick from its little bundle and tap it against Fives’s nose. His expression scrunches, but it doesn’t hold. Fives acquiesces with a soft huff and completes your exchange by tugging the lighter from the loose curl of your fist.

The stars are still in the sky tonight. But maybe one has pitched its orbit planetside and grazed closer than before. Maybe you make peace with the questions and the rules and everything you may never know. Maybe you reach a little further this time.

You close your hand over Fives’s as he lifts the lighter to your sparkler. Golden light spills between your chests. And when you hold a star in your palm, it glows.

[keravnous]

- agent 14/agent steven haines; my drug is my baby (nsft, smut)

It's hot out and Steve's wide awake. His bedroom windows are opened and there's a soft breeze rolling in, toying with the curtains and leaving a soft trace on his warm skin. He sighs and rolls on his stomach, blindly reaching out with one hand, until he touches his phone. His hand clutches around it and pulls. The display blinds him for a split second and he curses under his breath. No new messages.

He's not really surprised. The only person messaging him these days is 14 but they aren't really talking right now, with both of them still being so goddamn angry, so that's that.

He mindlessly checks his social, a former frat getting married, another couple buying another dog and someone's new car. He doesn't care, he can't even bring himself to act, to convince at least himself, that he does. He's missing something. Someone.

His thumb hovers over the display.

No. Yes. No.

He can hear the city breathe. Cars honking, the tram and a slight wind rustling the few leaves this grey concrete hell hole still has to offer. He misses the sound Warren makes, when he's asleep, how soft his breath is.

Steve shakes his head, as if that would have him get rid of the thought more easily. He misses his warmth, how he sometimes hooks one leg around his, arms stretched out. When he's asleep they don't fight.

Steve knows that he can't blame it on 14, they both are to blame, they both are equally responsible. If one of their superiors ever were to find out what they had been doing these past months they'd both vanish from this earth, erradicated like they'd never exist, justified by their act of treason.

And yet there they are: fighting. Rather with their fists and teeth, than with words. His colleagues start to notice the bruises (and even though they don't say a word he is still paranoid about it). Not all of them are born out of aggression, most are a result of the lust that captures their fucked up minds once the violence starts to blossom between them. It turns them on, it turns Steve on, when Warren's hands connect with him in the worst ways possible. It makes his blood sing and his dick hard and he just wants. Wants to press the other man down and take take take until the taking becomes an act of giving, which always errupts the most beautiful sounds from Warren.

He hates himself for the thought, but everything could be just perfect, they could be perfect, like handmade pieces carved to only fit each other. But it's not like that, it's way more hurtful. Their opinions on work, on the government and secret agencies drift apart like Pangaea. It's hell really, one of them starts screaming at one point and then there's no going back. They are both too ambitious, willing to sacrifice everything for their jobs and sometimes Steve wonders not if there will be, but how huge of a blood bath they will go down in. The thought scares him and he knows it scares Warren too, but they don't talk about it, keep their fears far away from each other, locked behind thick vault doors.

They often try their hardest not to talk about work. But eventually, like most people who only really live for their jobs, they drift back to it. It's Steve, who hates that Warren himself is somewhat a criminal and it's Warren who hates, that Steve won't admit that he isn't far form it himself.

They blame and attack each other for failures or provocations of their respective employers and it either ends in slammed doors or sweaty bodies sticking together.

Steve misses it, the adrenaline that shoots through his veins in these moments, the way Warren's body responds to his, how the other feels under his fingers. He misses misses misses and it keeps him awake.

He thinks about the last time he's seen Warren, squirming beneath him, throwing his head back, arching into his touch while throwing slurs his way. Steve thinks about him, about his touch. It's torture and he rolls back onto his stomach, while his mind conjures up a truly beautiful, delicious image.

Steve's sitting down, legs spread wide, back straightend but relaxed nonetheless. Warren kneels in front of him, cheeks slightly reddend, his hands carefully resting on Steve's firm thighs. His eyes are trained on Steve's hard dick, obscenely standing against his abdomen. Warren's bleeding. His nose looks broken and blood slowly tickles over his plump lips, down his chin. His tongue darts out, licks it away, cleans his lips.

Steve groans quietly and rocks his hips into the mattress once, twice, his hands gripping into the sheets as he rocks against the surface, growing hotter and harder.

He had betrayed him, sold his secrets, endangered Steve's life and thus, he has to show him his place again. Warren's eyes are trained on his cock and Steve hums, gently places his hand on the back of 14's head, runs it down to his neck, around to the front and presses down. The noise that erupts from Warren's throat makes the hairs on Steve's body stand up, as he slowly tilts his head back, giving Steve better access to his throat. Blood runs down the delicate, pale skin, pools between Steve's fingers. He runs his hand up again, brushes across Warren's lower lip with his thumb, then forces three fingers in. He gags, his eyelids flutter, before he starts sucking.

Steve moans. The sound is deep in his throat and his boxers are groing tight fast. He impatiently pulls the front down and himself out, raises his hip and closes his hand around his dick.

"You want the real thing, don't you, pretty boy?" Warren's bloody chin now dripples with saliva and he nods, hums around Steve's fingers. He pulls them out and looks at Warren, hits him another time across the face for good measure.

"Come on then, right your wrongs", Steve leans back and Warren lashes forward, tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe from the base to the top.

Steve tucks at himself and moans. It doesn't replace Warren, his scent, his touch, how he feels around and underneath him, his voice but it'll do, if he keeps himself focussed enough. He hates him so much, it makes his stomach twist, he hates his arrogant smile, the edge to his voice when he feels superior and his strut, how he tilts his shoulders back. Steve wants to take one of his cigarettes and burn his delicate skin right there between his shoulder blades, so he won't act all high and mighty anymore. Steve also wants so put his hands on his skin, his body and worship it, every little mole, kiss it until the world ends, burning and crumbling by the wars they wage.

He spits into his hand, rubbing his own saliva around his dick.

Warren leans in, all wet lips, blood and saliva and throaty groans and closes his lips around the tip of Steve's cock. His tongue swirls around it in the warmth in his mouth, hot liquid dripping down the hard shaft.

Steve rolls around, thrusting into his fist, his head buried deep in his cushion, moaning from the back of his throat. His body feels lonely, oddly cold, even though it's warm out and in his bedroom as well, and he raises his free hand, runs it across his flushed chest in a manner Warren would. It makes his heart flutter and his dick twitch.

"You like that, huh?" Warren lets his dick go with an obscene sound and hums deep in his throat.

"Yeah, fuck, I do."

It's what sends Steve to do an insanely stupid thing. He reaches out and grabs his phone, unlocks it while cupping his balls with one hand, squeezing and tugging, while scrolling through his contacts.

The voice on the other end sounds tired, not angry at all. Steve would like to be it the other way around, he wants to be yelled at, hit and torn.

"Why the fuck are you calling, it's literally three in the morning", there's a little yawn and Steve wishes he'd be here, "You better be bleeding out somewhere to bother me now, Haines."

He wants to hit him back with something witty, smart, rude but there's nothing more leaving his mouth but a moan, as his hand wanders up his dick again. There's silence on the other end. It makes his blood race, boil.

"Haines?"

"Yeah fuck, who do you think it is?", his voice is deep and buried in his throat. He groans.

There's a low chuckle on the other end. He wishes he could see that smile, he wishes he could tear it off of Warrens face.

"You ain't really getting yourself off right now, are you?", and when there's no answer just a deep and low sigh, 14 tsks, "That's actually pathetic, Haines."

He sounds wide awake now. Good.

"Tell me", there's shuffling on the other end, "Tell me what you're doing, you moron."

Steve smiles and tugs at his dick, with Warren purring deep into his ear. "Fuck, I'm", he sighs, feels the tension running deep through his stomach, "Touching myself."

"And you're thinking of me? How cute. Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Haines?"

Usually it's Steve who has the upper hand in the little dangerous game they're playing, it comes naturally with him being the higher ranking one, but he will make an exception tonight. Warren's tone is spurring him on, how he talks down on him. He would love for Warren to be here, for Warren to look and talk down on him, to spit in his face and sneer at him.

The words leave his mouth quicker than he can act against them.

"Wish you were here, fuck, touching me."

_

The next morning Steve's late to work. He doesn't even remember the last time he hasn't been on time. Must've been years ago. His chest burns as his shirt rubs over the sore skin. Warren had told him to run his hands over his chest harder harder harder until his nails had scraped the skin. The stinging sensation feels good, it's a nice reminder of last night.

As he rushes towards the FIB building across the empty plaza, he sees a figure leaning against one of the chairs.

"Late, Haines?", it's Warren. He's smoking a cigarette.

Steve raises his hand and shows him his finger.

He knows he's fucked, they both are.

_

It's Wednesday when he gets the mail and Friday when he enters the meeting room. His boss is there and so is Mrs. Rackham, he's seen her once or twice, but this time she's not alone. There are other agents with her and, of course because his life's just gotta be like that, 14 is there too.

His gaze drops to Steve's take-away cup and his lips curl into a smug grin. "If I knew we were having a potluck, I would've brought something as well", his voice is deep and calm, collected, like velvet and Steve'-s pulse sings with it.

"14", Mrs. Rackham's voice cuts through the air, admonishing, like a mother scolding her child.

Now it's Steve's time to grin and he drops his free hand to his belt, hooks one thumb underneath it and cocks his hips forward, looks at Warren. It's the same look he shoots him when Warren sinks to his knees to obediently suck his dick and he eyes him up and down. 14 blushes, his gaze drops.

Steve bathes in his display of power, the feeling that erupts from it takes him flying high. To them, it looks like 14 is listening to his superior but only the two of them know that he isn't. Only the two of them know that he's bowing to Steve's will. They had a change in their power dynamic last night and Steve is not willing to accept that, maybe he's even afraid to do so.

As they take their seats they look at each other once more and Steve feels his stomach flutter.

_

They were at each others throats the second they found themselves to be alone on the floor. Now, only a few minutes later, Steve has Warren bend over the sink of the bathroom. The door is locked but the idea of them being caught, someone seeing how he toys with one of the leading IAA Field Agents, still excites him. He has one hand around Warrens throat, his thumb pressing his chin upward, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

14 is crying. Small, thick tears run down his cheeks, silent evidence of his denied orgasm. He's very pretty that way, Steve thinks, when his cheeks redden and his eyes turn dark, like the stormy sea and his hair's in a mess. He loves it when Warren cries, the sounds he makes and-

"Please."

Steve stops his slow and deep thrusts and blinks dumbfounded. One, two, three seconds pass until he moves again. Laughter spills out of his mouth, deep and satsified.

"What a pretty sound for a pretty boy, huh?", his hand strokes over Warren's ass cheek, gently kneading the flesh below the palm. It's soft and warm and it grounds him.

His voice drops in both, octave and volume, as he leans forward, shoving himself even deeper into 14, lips against his ear. "Say that again", he whispers, tongue darting out and toying with his earlobe.

"Please, Steve. For fucks sake, please fuck me", Warren moans and throws his head back, pressing his throat into Steve's palm more firmly. He presses down and Warren yelps, squirms and their gazes meet in the mirror once more.

Warren holds his own mouth shut with one hand, drowning his moans and screams, as Steve ruts into him like an animal gone wild, fucking them both senseless.

_

Steve's phone rings and he picks up, opening another bottle of wine.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"So, you're still alive then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." Why wouldn't I be?

"Good. Just wanted to check."

"Warren?"

"Yeah?"

"Should I be worried?"

"No", and he trust him, because the word carries all the fear, all the thoughts that Steve grew so painfully familiar with.

_

The next time they see each other is a rather spontaneous thing. Well, at least Steve hasn't invited Warren over but there he is, standing in his doorway, hair a mess, his leather jacket on. He eyes Steve up and down, his gaze stops at the obvious bandage around his upper arm. Warren slowly raises his hand and gently touches it. Steve doesn't flinch.

"I saw the news", Warren says, his voice low and nearly inaudible.

"I'm fine."

"You got shot", he looks seriously upset now.

"I'm still alive, ain't I?"

And then he's on him, arms around his neck, lips pressed onto his own, hungrily devouring him. Steve feels Warren's warmth radiating against him and he slips his hands under his jacket, pulls his firm, muscular frame closer, flush against him. "I-, I was-", he doesn't have to say it, Steve knows anyway. Afraid, Worried, Scared, Frightened.

"I'm still here, pretty boy", he runs his good hand through Warren's dark hair and they look at each other and Steve knows, it hits him like a train, that they are both gone. Warren's gaze is soft and it's so beautiful, but somehow Steve wishes he'd yell at him again, lash out and throw hands at him. That was easier to handle than whatever they just turned into.

They are gentle with each other, for the first time. It's all slow kisses, soft touches and intertwined bodies, heat and whispered words. Steve holds Warren by his hips as he grinds down on his dick and gently brushes over his abdomen, his hip bones and chest with his hands, wants to feel and discover every inch of his body. Warren leans down and kisses him, soft and warm, plush lips that gently move against his own, a tongue darting out, making its way into his mouth. It makes his stomach flutter and fingertips tingle, so he hooks his good arm around his waist and helps 14 to rock onto him, the other hand gently resting on his leg.

They cum with their foreheads pressed together firmly, so close together that their eyelashes are nearly touching, gazes locked on each other. Steve pulls Warren close after that, hooks his good arm around him and it doesn't take long until they are at each other again, kissing gently, hands wandering, tongues touching.

_

Steve wakes up in the early hours of the next morning, Warren's back pressed against him. His breath is easy, he seems to be sleeping still. Steve buries his nose in his neck and breathes in. Out. In. Out. In - until he falls asleep again.

_

Ignoring each other at work and during the breaks becomes increasingly harder. Steve is getting itchy with the stress it puts onto him.

_

"The fuck did you do?", Warren slams his glas down. It doesn't break but Steve hears it shatter anyways. Of course they'd fight once again, once more. Maybe they never really stopped, maybe they were just on a break, an armistice.

He's talking about Michael and his associates kidnapping Mr. K.

"This is business, Warren. This has nothing to do with you."

"Are you completely nuts, Haines? She'll have your head for this, Daniels will kill you."

Steve looks at him and his gaze quickly turns into a stare. This is not about him, it never has been and it now dawns on him. He's not even yelling, his voice is firm and nearly a whisper.

"Me? Don't you dare act like you care about me when it comes to this. You're afraid what this will mean for you, aren't you? If they ever unveil that you fuck me, the one responsible for subject K gone missing? What will they think of you then, huh?"

Warren blinks. Once, twice. "Are you fucking deluded, Haines?"

Steve has missed how Warren beats and tears at his clothes and hurts so so so good. He relishes in the pain that 14 is exposing him to, until he can't hold back the gnarling animal in his chest anymore and lashes out as well, hits back and hits hits hits until they are covered in blood.

_

It hurts so good, his cuts and bruises hurt so good. Steve had missed this, missed the pain so much. Warren lies next to him, chest heaving, blood on his hands and his face, it's in his hair and on his legs as well. Steve wants to fuck him raw, until he screams and cries.

Steve wants to make Warren his, and only his. And he's ready to give himself up for it, too.

[maraudersftw]

“I was happier with you.” 🥺🥺

I know it’s taken me ages to get to this, but here’s the drabble you requested, lovely!

Snargaluff

“Evans!”

“—so just let me know if you need more help with the Cave Inimicum charm, alright?” Lily smiled at the fifth year Ravenclaw kindly, ignoring the prat yelling her name. “And send me an owl if you have any questions.”

“Sure. Thanks, Lily.”

“Evans, wait!”

“I think the Head Boy’s calling you,” said the Ravenclaw, her eyes flitting to look behind her with a strange smile.

“Off you go, Genevieve. You’ll be late for class.”

“Er, right. Thanks again.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Lily!” huffed the tall, 17-year-old git as he caught up to her, frowning sulkily, “I’ve been calling your name for ages! Trying to make me look absolutely insane, are you?”

“You don’t need my help with that.”

“Lily.”

“What is it, James?” she rolled her eyes, trying to look very much like the patient Head Girl she wasn’t at the moment. She turned to him with an exasperated expression, masking the way his bright hazel eyes were making butterflies erupt inside her stomach. “Did you want something?”

“I did actually. Some answers would be nice.”

“Answers?”

“You’re ignoring me.”

“That’s not a question.”

“You’re not even going to deny it?”

“What would be the point?” Lily asked, making her way towards the entrance hall. “You’d just say I was lying.”

James easily fell into step beside her, eyes wide and incredulous behind his glasses. “Well then? Why are you?”

“No reason.”

“Oh, because that’s a completely valid answer. Thank you for clearing it all right up. I’ll finally sleep in peace tonight.”

“That’s all I could’ve hoped for.”

“Lily,” he gritted his teeth, and she could hear the annoyance that was now evident in his tone. Good, she wanted to say. She was annoyed as well. “Stop trying to evade the question. What’s going on with you?”

“I’m fine, James. I’ve just been stressed.”

“Because of me?”

“No,” she sighed, but reconsidered, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“I’m just—you’re confusing me, James.”

“I am confusing you? I’m sorry, are we both having the same conversation?”

“Well, not right now! I meant before,” she snapped, throwing open the tall double doors as she stepped outside into the courtyard, the crisp, cool air whipping through her hair. James was right at her heels.

“Three years ago, then? I tend to forget the details with my wise years catching up to me.”

She wouldn’t smile no matter how much her lips wanted to turn up at the corners. He was a bloody charmer, but Lily had honed her resistance to him for over six years, even if she increasingly found it difficult to remember how.

“Shut up.”

“Is this about breakfast last week?”

She didn’t even remember breakfast last week. “What?”

“Because let me tell you, I tried to convince Sirius, but he was certain Regulus was being brainwashed by Mulciber. And he promised he’d only throw a harmless hex—”

“Oh, I don’t care about Mulciber, James! I’m sure he deserves all the hexes he gets anyway.”

“Ah,” He blinked, nodding as they came to a standstill against the large fountain, “nevermind then. What’s it about?”

Lily groaned loudly, and let him bear the full brunt of her glare. “If you really must know, it’s because of what happened in Potions class.”

“Potions?” He asked, a tiny little crease appearing between his dark brows, “that doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Good for you,” she said, trying to walk away.

“No, wait wait wait—just, give me a second, would you?” His fingers lightly brushed her palm, pulling back immediately as if shocked by the contact. Lily felt electricity zoom up her arm as well, so she couldn’t really blame him. “Fuck, I really can’t remember. You can curse me into oblivion, but at least let me know what I’ve done!”

He was throwing such a pitiful glance her way that Lily felt her resolve crumble like a cookie. Oh, she was turning into such a pathetic mess.

“You switched partners.”

“I—um,” James shut his gaping mouth, two pink spots appearing over his cheeks. “No?”

“Are you asking me or are you telling me?”

“Telling you?”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, James,” Lily rolled her eyes again, feeling her own mortification catch up to her. “I know you did it, don’t bother denying now. You could’ve told me you didn’t want to work with me anymore. I didn’t think I repulsed you that much.”

“Hang on, what the fuck are you saying?” He looked flabbergasted, sputtering nonsensically for a few seconds before he found his voice again, “repulsed by you? Me? Repulsed?! I—you—no, Lily! Just—no.”

Her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, and she bit her lip, holding in the smile that wanted to take over her whole face. “Then why did I see you scribbling a note to Sirius begging him to switch seats with you when Slughorn gave us our new assignment?”

“You saw that?! Were you reading over my shoulder?”

“Really?” she deadpanned, “that’s your main concern?”

“Well, I—I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, okay?” He threw his hands into the air, and Lily found it interesting to notice that his cheeks had gotten even redder, “you make me say and behave like a bloody idiot. We were using Snargaluffs that day and I knew—I knew I’d get distracted next to you. Didn’t really fancy having thorns sticking out of my fingers, or yours.”

Lily didn’t know what to say, so she just stared. James grew more restless by the second, words pouring out of his mouth in panic.

“I didn’t want you to hate me when I inevitably fucked up, so I asked Sirius to switch. He’s better at Potions than I am anyway—don’t tell him I said that, he’s a stupid wanker—so I thought he was the next best option since Remus was already partnered with Peter. Oh, Merlin, I hope he didn’t say anything weird to you, I specifically told him not to—”

“James, stop,” Lily said, a laugh finally bursting out of her as she dropped her hand onto his arm, “Sirius didn’t say anything weird.”

“No?”

“No!” She laughed again, before her eyes softened and she tilted her head to stare at him with a small smile, “it’s just that, well, I was happier with you.”

She heard the deep intake of his breath and waited for the entire three seconds that it took for him to reply.

“Even though Padfoot’s better at Potions?”

“Even then,” she grinned, stepping closer. “So, would you terribly mind returning back to your seat next lesson?”

His fingers were lightly resting on her waist now. “On one condition.”

Her eyes flicked to his lips, “what’s that, Potter?”

“That you don’t murder me in my sleep when I earn us a Troll.”

Lily didn’t know whether to smack her skull open against the stone, snog him senseless or laugh at his ridiculousness, so she found a middle ground and dropped her head on his chest with a light snigger, comforting herself with his pleasant warmth.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 16: Quench

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

“You know what amazes me,” Scully says as they walk along the waterfront. “That day we first met… I never would have guessed we’d end up like this. More than partners, more than friends.”

“I didn’t expect you to last three months with me,” Mulder admits, hands in his pockets. “Part of me wanted to drive you away, make you request reassignment.”

“And the other part of you?” she prompts, gently taking ahold of his wrist and drawing his hand out. She laces their fingers together, and their entwined hands swing between them as they walk. He likes it.

“I came to admire you,” he admits. “I read your thesis, for starters, but getting to know you personally was a transformative experience. I saw your strength, your dedication to your principles, your loyalty. I came to depend on your perspective; you were always matching me, challenging me.”

“I thought you hated that,” Scully points out.

“I definitely did on occasion,” he agrees. “But I needed it. I still do. I need your rationality and clarity and willingness to listen, even when you disagree with me. Especially when you disagree,” he amends.

“Respecting the journey,” Scully concurs.

“Exactly.” He glances down at her. “What did you think of me when we first met?”

“Hmm… I’d heard a lot about you, so that definitely colored my view in the beginning,” she says. “But walking into the basement office for the first time, I thought… well, for one, you were much more attractive than I was expecting,” she confesses. “I was actually a little awestruck; that is, until you started talking.”

“Why until I started talking?” he asks, voice amused and defensive in equal measure.

“You were really laying it on thick, playing up the ‘Spooky Mulder’ image. It seemed like you’d been alone down there for a little too long,” she says cheekily.

“I’d argue with you, Scully, but I think this time you’re actually right,” he concedes. He stops walking, gives her hand a gentle tug to guide her closer.

“Are you glad they sent me to spy on you?” she asks softly, taking his free hand into her other one.

He nods and leans down, dropping a soft kiss to her lips. “Best thing the Bureau’s ever done for me.”

“We should head back to the car,” Scully says. “My feet are starting to hurt.”

“It’s impressive, the things you manage to do in heels,” Mulder notes.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she says with a sly grin.

“Scully, please, be gentle with me,” he pleads. “It’s been a long time.”

“Hm,” Scully presses her lips together, stifling a smile. “I like when you beg.”

Jesus H Christ.

The drive back to Scully’s apartment is short, and before he knows it, he’s pulling over in front of her building, not ready to say goodnight.

Scully must sense this, because she turns to him with hopeful eyes. “Would you like to come in?” she asks. “I’ll make some tea.”

Mulder bites his lip, considering. “Are you inviting me up for a drink or are you ‘inviting me up for a drink’?” he asks.

She shrugs, smiling. “Only one way to find out,” she replies.

He has to at least walk her to her door, right? It’s the chivalrous thing to do. He might as well stay for tea…

Scully seems far more relaxed than she had at the start of the evening. She undoes the straps of her little heeled sandals and kicks them off by the door, tossing her bag and shawl onto the couch.

“What kind of tea would you like?” Scully asks, going into the kitchen and opening a cupboard.

“Uh... you have any black tea?” Mulder asks, sitting on the couch. He knows he should probably be more specific, but the majority of his tea experiences are iced and made by someone else, and he frankly doesn’t know what to ask for.

“Several, actually,” Scully answers, rearranging cartons in the cupboard. “I’m making an executive decision,” she announces, pulling out a box of Constant Comment. “Missy and I liked this one best.”

He watches her over the back of the couch as she starts the kettle, takes two mugs out of the cupboard, drops a teabag into each one. Her hair is a little mussed, and the hem of her dress is dragging on the floor without the added height of her heels. He decides that seeing her all put together at the beginning of the night is no match for watching her come undone at the end.

If only every night could be like this; them sitting on her squishy striped couch, cups of spicy tea in hand, talking about the profound and the mundane. Maybe, somehow, we can have this, he thinks. Pore over case notes on the sofa, kiss each other goodnight, wake up in each other’s arms.

He decides that Constant Comment is, in fact, a very good tea.

Cup empty, Scully sighs contentedly as she rests her head on his shoulder. “This is nice,” she says. “I wish we hadn’t waited so long to do this.”

“What, sit on your coach and drink tea?”

“Well, yes, but more than that. I meant just being together, without holding things back.”

“Maybe we weren’t ready,” Mulder muses. “We needed to grow into what we wanted and needed from each other. I know it took me a long time to figure it out, and even longer to get the courage to tell you.”

“Well, I suppose not knowing how I felt didn’t help; I was too subtle. I took what I considered a big swing in Florida,” she admits, “And when you didn’t respond I decided to back off.”

“A big swing? What are you talking about?” Mulder asks.

Scully covers her face with her hands. “It’s so embarrassing now,” she groans. “Remember when they tried to send us to that team-building conference? And I came to your room with wine and cheese?”

“Yes,” he says slowly. “Wait, was that a come-on?”

“Yes!” she exclaims. “I came in with this stupid plate of cheese and minibar wine, trying to… to telegraph that I was interested, and you just kept talking about culling techniques all the way out the door.”

“What were you hoping would happen?” Mulder asks.

“I don’t know,” Scully muses. “I was newly cancer-free, and we had just been through that whole ordeal together... I wanted to take a chance and see where it went. Maybe make out a little bit, at least? I’m not sure if... if I would have been ready for more, even if you expressed an interest. But I definitely wanted it.”

“I had no idea,” he says.

They sit silently for a moment.

“I don’t suppose... we should make up for lost time?” he suggests, looking down at her.

She licks her lips, and his eyes follow the movement of her tongue.

She tilts her chin up to him, and he places his hands on either side of her jaw. He leans in, their noses brushing as he tilts his head and presses his mouth to hers. She sighs into the kiss, bringing her hands to his shoulders.

Her lips are so soft and warm, faintly flavored with spices and orange rind from the tea, and he parts his lips reflexively. Hers follow, and the sensation of their mouths slotting together makes his head spin.

Suddenly he feels the slip of her tongue again his bottom lip and he’s in a free fall. They part with a gasp.

“Too much?” Scully asks.

“No, not at all,” Mulder says quickly. “Just surprised me. It was good,” he assures her.

“Good,” she replies, taking a deep breath. “Sorry… I feel like a clueless teenager,” she says with a huff of a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever cared this much. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling out of my depth all of a sudden.”

“I’ve never cared this much for anybody either,” he admits. “But like you said. We’ll go slow.”

She licks her lips. “Okay,” she whispers.

He angles himself towards her, sliding a hand around the back of her neck to draw her closer. “Try again?” he whispers, lips brushing hers.

“Yes,” she breathes.

He’s been holding back from this for years, he realizes; all those times his eyes caught on her lips, watching her mouth shape his name. Occupying his tongue with sunflower seeds to distract himself from what he really wanted. Leaning close, furtively whispering, convincing himself that he really needed to be in her personal space. It was all an elaborate buildup for this moment.

He has a hand in her hair, the other tentatively resting on her waist. Emboldened by her previous eagerness, he opens his mouth, inviting her in with a soft lick. She responds by looping her arms around his neck, one leg hitched across his kneecap as their tongues meet.

They kiss like kites dancing on air, ribbons twisting and tangling in the wind, all silk and cotton and hot breath. He’s not sure if he pulled her onto his lap, or if she slid across his knees of her own volition; but she’s there now, her compact body bundled against his chest. She cards her fingers through his hair, sucking his lower lip, grazing his tongue with her teeth.

Mulder wants this so badly it aches. He might die if they stop, but something below the belt is bound to make itself known, and he needs to regain control before his body gets ahead of his mind.

“Scully,” he pants, pulling back. Her cheeks are flushed, lips swollen, and his hunger intensifies. “Scully, if we’re not going to take this further tonight we need to stop now.”

She nods, lips parted as she catches her breath. One strap of her dress has fallen down her shoulder, and he tenderly replaces it with the slip of a finger.

“Don’t touch me like that,” she whispers. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I know,” he confesses. “But… sometimes I want dangerous.”

“So do I,” she says. “But you were right. We should stop.” She slips off of his lap, standing. “It’s getting late,” she say, glancing at the clock. “I have mass in the morning.”

“I hope I gave you a few things to confess,” he says, rising.

“I may add some to the list myself,” she murmurs, and his knees threaten to give way.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” he warns her, picking up his jacket and walking to the door. “The more you talk, the harder it is to leave.”

“Then my lips are sealed,” she says. “Goodnight, Mulder.” She opens the door for him, rising onto her tiptoes to receive one more kiss.

It’s brief, but sweet, and Mulder impulsively pulls her into a hug after their lips part. “Goodnight, Scully,” he mumbles into her hair.

He's ascended; gotten high on her lips, floating through the cosmos.

[make-me-imagine]

Red Roses: “I Love You” - Wanda Maximoff Ending

Valentines Special: Day Nine

Day One: Morning Glories  //  Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers  //  Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips   // Day Six: Violets Day Seven: Lisianthus  //  Day Eight: Daffodils (Post with rest of the character endings)

Plot: It’s finally Valentines Day, the day the reader will finally learn who it is that had been leaving them flowers and notes expressing their secret feelings.

Pairing: Gen!Neutral Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Triggers: None        Words: 1,503

Requested Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney​, @thebookbakery​, @fablesrose​, @kitkatd7​, @thefallenbibliophilequote​, @beksib​, @destynelseclipsa​, @criminaly-supernatural​, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus​, @snarky--starky​, @saintbootlegloras​, @wecallhimbrowneyess​, @empath-bunny​, @okkulta​, @katinthemoon,  @ravennight41​, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs ,  @goinggoinggonzo, @mxxnmocha,  @theofficialzivadavid​,  @lilix1989, @normanijauregui, @euphouriaszn2, @slut-for-nat , @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all (still couldn’t tag, sorry) , @supersourlemon13, @messhup

February 14th

You woke up late in the morning, having had a restless nights sleep most of the night. As you groggily opened up your eyes and stretched, you turned to look at your clock, seeing it was nearly 11am. You sighed before grabbing your phone, seeing a missed text from Steve a few hours prior asking if you wanted to go for a run with him and Bucky. Replying with an apology and that you slept in, you rolled back over, your eyes landing on the daffodils on the table. 

Remembering that you had woken up lying at the end of your bed before crawling back in, you reached over on your desk and grabbed the note you had set their last night. You read over it again before “New beginnings” you mumble to yourself before sighing and sitting up.

Eventually, you had gotten out of bed, brushed your teeth and got dressed before wondering out of your room, planning on going on a walk. You just wanted to get out of the tower honestly. You needed to think things over again. 

You managed to leave the tower without running into any of the others before you began wandering towards a nearby park, headphones in and favorite music playing. You began to think of the possibilities again. Over the last week, you found yourself watching the others more closely. The way Natasha and Bruce had been acting around each other, you figured it was neither of them leaving you the notes. And you doubted it was Tony or Clint, and it certainly wasn’t Loki. 

So that leaves Steve, Bucky, Vision, Thor and Wanda. Steve and Bucky had always been kind to you, you were definitely close to both of them. The more you thought about them, the less you could see yourself in a relationship with them. And Vision was nearly impossible to figure out entirely.

And then there was Wanda. Ever since you met her and Pietro in your fight against Ultron, you had a bond. She felt comfortable around you, and you had never been afraid of her. You made sure she knew she wasn’t alone, and helped her mourn her brother. You spent a lot of your time together, and you had recently become more confused about your feelings towards her.

You liked her much more than you did anyone else. If you were a teenager, you’d call it a crush. But could she ever feel the same for you? Just like Vision, she was good at hiding her emotions. And you were, you think, very good at hiding how you felt. And you trusted her to never use her abilities on you without your permission anyways, she had made a promise to you as well, though you did not ask her too. It was her own way of expressing you could trust her. 

Sitting down on a bench and staring out at the park, and the people wandering around, you thought more about Wanda and the way she was around you. Thinking of all the small interactions, some of which could be seen as a bit more intimate than others. You began to feel a small sense of hope towards who would admit their feelings to you tonight. 

- - -

You had spent most of your day wandering around the city before heading back to the tower a few hours before the party would begin. You had been avoiding talking to the others, rarely texting them throughout the day. So when you arrived back at the tower, you were not really surprised when Natasha and Clint found you before you made it all the way to your room. 

“Is something up? You don’t usually avoid us this much.” Natasha began as you were stopped in the hallway before the elevator. 

You sighed as you leaned against the wall “I’ve just been preoccupied, I’m fine I promise.” 

“This is about the flowers isn’t it?” Clint asked.

You nodded and Natasha smiled apologetically “Y/n, you really don’t need to be so concerned, I’m sure that if you really can’t see yourself being with whoever it is, they’ll understand. We are all way to close to hold that type of grudge, or let something like this stand between us.” 

“You haven’t read the notes Nat. There’s much more at stake than you understand. But, I do hope you’re right.” you said with a sense of unease. 

After they tried to console you a bit more, you left to go back to your room. Taking a long shower, and slowly getting ready, you sat around distracting yourself before the party. You had gone back and forth in your mind, part of you trying to convince yourself to not go down at all. Maybe they would come find you if they really wanted. But eventually deciding against this, you convinced yourself to go up to the party. 

The party was crowded and loud, made up of a cacophony of laughter, conversation, and music. You spent a while hanging out with Natasha, Clint, Bruce and Wanda before you snuck off when you all joined the others and groups of guests. 

You thought you had not been noticed, when you found a quiet separate room, closed off from guests. You had begun to feel a bit overwhelmed and needed to take a breather away from everyone. Staring out of the large window out at the bright city, as you began to relax.

Hearing the door creak open, you looked over to see Wanda peak her head in. Her eyes meeting yours as she gave you a cautious smile “Are you alright? I saw you sneak off.”

You smiled politely at her, with little emotion “I’m okay, just started to feel a bit overwhelmed.” 

“So, is this a bad time?” 

“For what?” you asked with a questioning face. 

Stepping fully into the room, she lifted up a small bouquet of red roses “To give you these?” she asked cautiously, cocking her head sideways slightly as she watched you. 

Your eyes whipped back and fourth from the roses to Wanda before you found your voice again “Uh, wh- did...uh, did someone give you those to give to me...Or..?” 

She smiled as she began walking towards you “No one gave them to me.”

You met her eyes “Then...you?” 

She nodded her head once “Yes. Me.” she smiled. Walking the rest of the way up to you she handed you the flowers, which you took cautiously as you looked between them and Wanda.  

“I....” you chuckled at your own speechlessness “I just...really thought that you uh, I mean, I thought I was the only one...”

Her smile widened at your stuttering admission before she reached out and placed her hands over yours sending a sense of ease over you. “I didn’t really mean too. But, a few weeks ago, I was feeling, overwhelmed myself, about how I found my feelings changing for you. And one day, when we were together, I couldn’t help but...search a bit, just to see.” she looked at you with guilt on her face “I’m sorry, I know I promised I wouldn’t-”

“It’s alright Wanda” you cut her off, assuring her “That actually makes it a lot easier” you chuckled, which made her smile with relief and amusement. “So, that whole, scavenger hunt you joked about a while ago, to find who was leaving the flowers was just a ploy to distract me from thinking it was you?”

She cocked her head to the side with a smile “Maybe.”

You realized that this now made sense, that day when you found no one in the hallway when you heard them, she had used her magic. “Did anybody else know?” you asked curiously. 

She shook her head “I mean, both Tony and Steve knew about how I felt about you, so maybe they figured it was me. But I never told anyone. But I did hear Bucky mentioning something to Steve about you..pressing the flowers?” her smile widened “Did you really?” 

You felt heat rise up the back of you neck as you smiled “Maybe.” 

She laughed before she took another step closer, pressing her forehead against yours as she stared into your eyes, “I’m very glad that you liked the flowers so much, and I hope you are alright with the things that I said.” 

“I’m more than alright with them Wanda. I loved them. And I...” you hesitated, wondering if you should say what you were truly feeling. But maybe it was too soon? Though, the roses. They were the first flowers you had received that you already knew the meaning of. So, was this Wanda’s own way of confessing...of telling you?

“I know.” she said “Me too.” she replied, answering your unspoken question.

You smiled widely at each other before leaning in together and meeting in a kiss. A feeling of ease and happiness ran through you as your mind was silenced. There was no more anxiety or busy thoughts, just peace, acceptance, and happiness. 

xx xx xx xx xx

This is the last ending being posted for this event. So I hope you all liked them!!

If you did like this, please consider reblogging it, and maybe check out the other endings as well!~

[waitimcomingtoo]

fine line - p.p

chapter 4

pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: there’s a fine line between love and hate and you and Peter dance it on a regular basis

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

“Would you stay with me?” You asked timidly, assuming the answer would be a definite no.

“Of course.” Peter nodded, making you recall the time your dad told you he would surprise you. Peter sat down next to you, giving you your space but still close enough to comfort you. You heard him chuckle after a beat of silence and looked at him curiously.

“You know, that’s the first time you ever called me Peter.” He commented, looking at you with a half smile.

“I’ve called you Peter before.” You insisted in your hoarse voice.

“No. I would’ve remembered if you did.” He chuckled. “You always call me Parker.”

“Oh. I guess I do.” You realized as Peter reached forward and wiped your tear with his thumb. You held eye contact with his and he dragged his thumb down your cheek, letting his warmth assuage your pain.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, giving him a weak smile.

“No problem.” Peter said sincerely. “This is the longest we’ve been in a room together without yelled at each other. It’s also the closest you’ve ever let me near you.”

“Sorry.” You said as you got ready to move. “I can move over-“

“No, it’s okay.” Peter stopped you by placing a hand on your arm. “I want you close.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to hide how happy his sentence made you. Despite how awful you treated him, he was always kind to you. Usually his generosity made you even angrier, but you didn’t have the strength to hate him tonight.

“You shouldn’t be nice to me. I’ve never been nice to you.” You shook your head and look down at the box of tissues in shame.

“I believe in treating people how you’d like to be treated. You’re also letting me be nice to you, which is a nice change.” Peter cracked a smile as he brushed your wilting curls out of your face. You leaned into his hand for a moment, closing your eyes as you finally felt peace.

“I don’t hate you.” You said suddenly, making Peter raise his eyebrows. “You said I hated you before. I don’t, really. I’m sorry I made you think I did.”

“I’m sorry too. I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I didn’t even want to move in. Mr. Stark insisted, he thought I’d be able to keep you company.” Peter laughed slightly, feeling the irony of his statement.

“Then why did you?” You wondered. You always thought it had been Peters idea to move in as a way to reap the full benefits of being an Avenger, but it turned out you were wrong.

“My aunt just got this job at a charity and she absolutely loves it, it just takes up all her time.” Peter explained. “It’s the first time I’ve seen her happy since my uncle passed and I didn’t want her to chose between her job and taking care of me, so I moved in here. I…I didn’t know Mr. Stark was gonna take me on all the missions and stuff.” Peter said softly. “I never meant to take your place.”

You opened your mouth and quickly shut it, feeling incredibly stupid and guilty for how you’d been treating him.

“I didn’t know that. Any of that, I didn’t...I didn’t know.” You said quietly as your eyes filled with regret.

“You and I don’t talk much.” Peter shrugged sadly. You tilted your head to the side, looking at him sympathetically in an entirely new light.

“You were right before, you know.” You told him. “I am jealous of you for being my dads favorite.”

“Y/n, I was just saying that.” Peter apologized. “That’s not how I really feel and it’s definitely not true.”

You looked straight ahead at your deep blue bedroom walls and let out a sigh, knowing the impending conversation wouldn’t be easy.

“He wanted a boy.” You said after a beat of silence, busying yourself with your fingernails so you wouldn’t have to look at him.

“What?”

“When he adopted me. He wanted a boy.” You explained further, feeling a blush of embarrassment cover your face and neck.

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Peter shook his head as he shifted a little closer.

“Yes it is.” You smiled sadly. “They did all these family matching events at my foster home when I was a kid and he would always stop by. I always saw him talking to the boys. He never signed any papers though, I think he was just browsing.” You chuckled, and Peter did too.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s difficult to talk about.” Peter said kindly as he rested a hand on your knee.

“I want to tell you so you can understand.” You insisted, feeling like this was your best shot at an apology.

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“I never got picked.” You came outright with it. “I would show up to these events in my best dress and biggest smile and watch all my friends get taken home by some family, even if it was just for a test run, but nobody ever picked me. It gets to you after a while.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea.” Peter sympathetically squeezed your knee.

“No, it’s okay. If some other family had wanted me, I wouldn’t have ended up with my dad.”

“You’re really strong for being able to see the bright side of all this. I don’t know what I would’ve done.” Peter shook his head as he got a look into your history.

“I appreciate that.” You smiled softly at him, letting him know you were no longer upset.

“How did you end up with Mr. Stark?” Peter wondered.

“He came pretty late one day, after an event had been going on for a while. He had Pepper with him that time, I guess he finally convinced her to come. By the time he arrived, all the boys had already been taken, and I could just see the disappointment in his face. Then he made eye contact with me.” You smiled to yourself. “I had seen him there so many times, but this was the first time we interacted. I had on this fluffy pink princess dress to make myself look more presentable. He saw me and laughed.”

“Princess. That’s why he calls you princess.” Peter made the connection.

“So you’re not as dumb as I thought.” You teased him, playfully this time, as you nudged him. “He bent down in front of me and asked if I’d like to live in his castle for the week, and I said yes. After the week was up, he brought a suitcase to my foster home. He said my suitcase matched his because we were a family now. It was the first thing that had ever been mine, you know? Not a hand me down or anything. It was mine. Those suitcases are all worn out now, but we still use them for every mission. At least, we used to.”

“Thats why you were upset he threw his out. Y/n, I’m sorry. I didn’t know any of this. You never - - You don’t talk to me.” Peter’s voice was pained as he got the full picture of why the fight had upset you as much as you did.

“I know. And I’m sorry for that. I know this doesn’t justify why I treat you the way I do, but I hope it explains it a little.” You looked at him apologetically. “It’s dumb but I always saw those suitcases as a symbol of our family. And then he goes and throws them out to buy one for you. Not that I would need one anyway since he stopped bringing me on missions and I just, I don’t know, I felt replaced.”

“That’s not dumb.” Peter insisted. “Mr. Stark likes having me around but I could never replace you. You’re his daughter. I know he spends a lot of time with me but that doesn’t mean he wanted a boy.”

“That’s not the only thing, though.” You continued. “When I got to his house for the first time, before the tower was even built, he already had a room set up. Blue walls and little shirts with sports slogans on them told me what I already knew. He wanted a boy. He wanted you.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d ever wear a shirt with a sports slogan on it.” Peter slipped a joke in, making you chuckle softly.

“Yeah, well. You check all his other boxes.” You reminded him. “You’re smarter than me, better at technology than I am, and you’re a freaking superhero for crying out loud. I can’t do half the things you can and he knows it. And when you guys save the world together or build these amazing inventions, it’s like you’re rubbing in all the things I could never do with him. It just reminds me that you’re what he wanted.”

“So are you. He loves you.”

“I don’t doubt he loves me. I just doubt I’d be his first choice.” You shrugged sadly. “You and I are both orphans and if you hadn’t had your aunt and uncle to take care of you, you would’ve ended up in the same place as me. And if you had been there that day at the event…”

“You think Mr. Stark would’ve chosen me, not you.” Peter finished your sentence, and everything made sense to him at once.

“Yeah.” You whispered as tears filled your red rimmed eyes once again. “I’m sorry I don’t call you by your name. I’m sorry I’m mean to you and push you away. But you have to understand, you’re not someone I ever wanted to know. And when you say things like him preferring you, I believe you.”

“I never should’ve said that. I wish we had this conversation when I first moved in.” Peter sighed heavily. “I would’ve understood you so much better. And I…I wanted to understand you.”

“You did?” You jerked your head back in surprise at his statement.

“Yeah. It was kinda a bummer when I realized my mentors extremely beautiful and intelligent daughter hated me.” Peter chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “He talked so highly of you, I wish you could’ve heard it. He’s this world famous billionaire inventor and superhero and his greatest accomplishment is his daughter. It made me really excited to meet you. And then…”

“And then I made your life hell.” You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment as you finished his sentence. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“It’s okay. I still liked you, even if you were mean to me.” He smiled sheepishly. “I could tell you were funny and nice from when I heard you talking to other people. I just didn’t understand why you didn’t like me.”

“I feel like we could’ve been really good friends by now if I hadn’t been so quick to judge you.” You pouted as you looked at him. “I thought you were taking advantage of my dads money of something. You’re actually a really good guy. I should’ve listened the first 50 times me dad told me that.”

“We can still be friends. I think I’ll be around a while.” He teased your usual hatred of him being around as he bumped his shoulders against yours. You laughed as you moved together, feeling grateful for the second chance he was giving you. Something he had said clung to the back of your mind and in the name of being honest, you brought it up.

“Do you…do you really think I’m beautiful?” You asked curiously as you looked at him. A blush spread from Peters nose bridge all the way to the tips of his ears when he realized you caught his subtle compliment.

“Um, don’t you?” He shrugged, answering your question with a question to put the ball back in your court. Your lips twitched into a smile before you looked away, feeling flustered in place of your usual disdain.

“To answer your question from before, my date was lame.” You shrugged. “Harry was on his phone the whole time, something about fantasy football? I don’t know, I wasn’t listening. Rich people are like, super boring.”

“I thought you liked him? Last I heard, you wanted to be his girlfriend.” Peter couldn’t help from rolling his eyes as he spoke.

“Oof.” You clicked your tongue. “If you haven’t figured out by now that I played up my feelings for Harry to make you jealous, then maybe you’re not smarter than me.”

“You wanted to make me jealous?” Peter repeated for confirmation. “It worked, but why?”

“Do you want to know the number one thing that annoyed me about you?” You asked him, the fight a distant memory now.

“I don’t know. Do I?” Peter chuckled as he rested his head in his hands to look at you.

“No matter how much I disliked you,” you shook your head and shrugged slightly, “I always liked you more.”

“I thought you said you would never like me.” Peter recalled, a hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, well,” you moved closer to him, sitting on his thigh and resting your hand on his shoulder, “I guess I had a change of heart.”

“Well.” Peter looked up at you with a fire in his eyes. “What ever am I going to do about that?” He said slowly as he drummed his fingers on your leg.

“Yeah. What are you gonna do about it, Parker?” You brought back his old nickname to really push him.

“I have a few ideas, Princess.” Peter mumbled before crashing his lips to yours. Your hands immediately went to his hair, tugging it for all the times he made you stressfully tug at yours.

“You drive me crazy with all your eye rolling.” Peter said between kisses as he pushed you down on the bed. “Nobody is that annoyed all the time.”

“Every time I saw you in the lab I hoped you’d burn your hand on the benson burner.” You confessed as you trailed kisses on his jawline.

“I hate when you leave your cereal bowls out. Do you know how disgusting almond milk looks when it’s left out? Ugh it made me so mad.” Peter groaned as he pinned you to the bed.

“I hate when you’re in the kitchen when I’m baking. You’re so annoying.” You whined, tilting your head up to kiss him.

“You’re so annoying.” He shot back as he pulled you closer.

“I cannot stand you.” You shook your head before kissing him again. “At all.”

“That makes two of us, princess.” Peter gave you a cocky smirk as his hand traveled up your leg. 

“I told you not to call me that, daddy.” You shot back, making Peter gulp. You laughed wickedly and propped yourself up on your elbows. “Thats what I thought. You’re all talk.”

“That wasn’t fair.” He growled, teeth grazing your earlobe now. 

“You just can’t handle it.” You teased him. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” Peter said simply as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Same.” You laughed at the irony. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

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