#bli girl au

[redfish-blu]

So unlike you to forget a face, Kobra. You remember me don’t you?

This was the first vision I ever had of this AU which I’ve just been calling BLi-Girl in my head so that’s sticking for now. I have like,, one third of an actual idea for what exactly this story would explore but it starts here.

#this whole au would literally just be kobra kid and the terrible horrible very bad day tbh #along with like. massive lore drops and horridly in depth explorations of BLind #danger days #mcr #ttlotfk #ttlofk #kobra kid #killjoys #the girl #danger days art #bli girl au

[juyeonszn]

SWEET

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.61k

GENRES fluff ﹒ smut ﹒ minuscule bit of angst

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, boy next door/neighbor au, reader was in a toxic-ish relationship, juyo is so cute and so sweet, until he’s kinda 😵‍💫 yk?, um kevin and changmin appearances, reader being absolutely irrevocably impossibly down bad for juyeon’s hands, so hand kink lol, making out, vaginal fingering, cum eating…. lol, they get a little sappy at the end

SUMMARY maybe this was for the better. maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor.

MORE i would like to apologize for putting this out a day late… um i was really busy preparing for my enhypen concert so 😭 not a lot of writing was happening since there wasn’t enough brain juice flowing. anyways. ENJOY <3 pls rb if u did! (ALSO THANK U REESE AND @sungbeam FOR BETAING AND EDITING <<<3 i love y’all sm)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

If there was one thing you took pride in, it was your keen sense of hospitality.

You’d been raised as the type of girl to always be welcoming when a new face arrived, to be that guiding light for them as they adjusted to all the changes in their life. When you were little, your mother taught you to introduce yourself first, because you never knew if that person was shy or not. Of course, there was the usual ‘Stranger Danger’ pep talk, but it differed greatly from the new friend pep talk.

The first time you exhibited this wonderful trait of yours was in middle school when the foreign student in your class was forced to stand at the front of the room. He wasn’t necessarily shy, but you could tell he didn’t really enjoy being put on the spot, hands behind his back as he said his name and where he was from.

Kevin Moon. Age 13. Vancouver, Canada.

The only empty desk in the classroom was the one beside yours, and that was the golden opportunity to become best friends with the new kid. As soon as he settled into his seat and class had resumed as normal, you leaned over slightly and cupped a hand over your mouth to whisper loud enough that he could hear.

“Hi! I’m Y/N!”

He gave you a small smile in return and from then on, you and Kevin Moon were the best of friends.

The second time you proved your kindness was your freshman year of college. It was still syllabus week, but your professor had sent out an email over the weekend with papers that needed to be printed and brought to class. The guy next to you didn’t get the memo, freaking out over already messing things up on the first day.

You didn’t know him at all, but you felt bad that he was so stressed. In turn, you decided to rip up your own papers. He looked at you like you were crazy, maybe because you were. What idiot does something like that?

You give him a warm smile. “There. Now we’re both missing it.”

All he can do is laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m Changmin.”

“Y/N.”

After that, Ji Changmin came to be another one of your closest friends. It was kind of silly that something your mother instilled in you at a young age had become such a big part of your life. It brought you people who you’d cherish forever. But it also brought people you wish you’d never met.

“Get the fuck out.”

“Y/N, babe, we can work through this—”

“Are you deaf?” Your tone raises and your feet carry you to the front door, swinging it open. “I said to get out of my apartment.”

“We’ve been together for three years. You’re not gonna fight for us?” He pleads, clasping his hands as he stands in front of you.

“Why would I? Why should I stay with someone who doesn’t value me enough to stay loyal?” You seethe, your anger growing in size the longer you glare at his pathetic face. The face of a man you thought would love you until death did you part.

“She meant nothing to me!” He tries to rationalize with you, but you won’t have any of it. You weren’t stupid and you sure as hell weren’t blind.

“Do you take me as a fucking fool, Daehyun? I’ve known for months that you weren’t ‘working late at the office’. She even DMed me and showed me screenshots of your messages. Now get out before I call the cops.” You’re so pissed off that you don’t even realize you’re crying, fat tears trickling down your hot cheeks.

“After all I’ve done for you and all I’ve given you? You’re gonna act like a bitch?” He drops the innocent boyfriend act, backing you into the doorframe.

“Leave, Daehyun.” You say flatly. You’re not gonna give him the satisfaction of crumbling beneath the weight of his words. You knew the truth, you knew what kind of person he truly was after all this time.

He scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the hook beside him and finally storming out of your apartment. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the sobs that so badly want to escape. You watch as he bumps shoulders with a stranger holding a box, thankfully not looking back at you.

You make eye contact with said stranger, eyes wide like a child who’d just gotten caught with their hands in a cookie jar. His eyes resemble those of your friends’ when you told them you’d found out about your boyfriend’s infidelity. You both stand there for a moment, an impromptu staring contest ensuing.

Quickly, you snap out of your trance, cowering into your apartment. You vaguely remember the elderly woman across the hall mentioning that someone was moving into the unit beside yours. She had never told you a specific date, though. Had you known it was today, you might’ve expedited the dramatic break-up with Daehyun.

How could you possibly introduce yourself to him after he witnessed that? And in your current state; snot-nosed and teary-eyed? There was no way. You’d just have to postpone that for another day. Hopefully he didn’t mind too much.

“Was he cute?”

“Kevin, why is that what you’re worried about?” Changmin’s mouth pulls into a thin line, smacking the slightly older male over the back of the head. He winces, caressing the spot to ease the pain.

“I wasn’t really paying attention to that when I had just shoved my cheating ex boyfriend out of my apartment,” you push around the ramyeon on your plate with your chopsticks. “I do feel terrible that he had to see that though. But how can I face him after that?”

Kevin taps his chin with his index finger, lips pursed in thought. “Why don’t you bake for him? Welcome him to the complex like the hospitable neighbor you are.”

“That’s not a half bad idea, actually.” Changmin nods, shoveling some rice onto his spoon. The Pisces deadpans and reclines in his chair.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Okay, enough bickering you two. I need you to finish eating so I can start planning what to bake.”

The third time you practice your mother’s life lesson, is the next evening when you’re face-to-face with your neighbor’s door.

Your hands have begun to clam up beneath the warm tupperware of cookies you were holding. Were you supposed to just knock on his door like everything was fine and dandy? What if he wasn’t even home? Maybe you should just leave the baked goods with a note and—

The door swings open to reveal the stranger from a few days ago. However, this time he also wears that expression of shock, cat-like eyes widened. Your mouth moves like fish out of water, not sure what you should say or how you should say it. So you don’t think and you just act, extending the tupperware towards him.

“H-Hi, I’m Y/N, I’m your neighbor,” your speech is a little shaky, but you’re too nervous to focus on that. “I— um— I baked these for you as a housewarming gift to welcome you to the complex. As well as an apology for making you a bystander in my messy breakup.”

His features relax as a smile inches its way onto his face, graciously accepting the treats you made for him. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. And don’t even worry about it, I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“N-No, you’re fine, I swear! We shouldn’t have aired our dirty laundry so publicly like that. You did nothing wrong.” You wave your hands as if physically dismissing his words. He lets out a little chuckle that warms your chest.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m glad that you left the dude. He sounded like a total asshole,” your neighbor tucks the tupperware under his arm, leaning against the threshold of his apartment. “You seem too nice to settle for somebody like that. From what I’ve seen, of course.”

You don’t know why that has your heart skipping a beat like a high school girl. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he really was cute. He had a boyish charm to him, but not so much so that it overpowered how handsome he was. Kevin was going to have a field day with this information.

“Uh, thank you. I should be getting back to my place now. I have an early day at work tomorrow. Have a good night!” You clear your throat to kick yourself out of whatever stupor you were about to fall into, bowing. As you’re turning on your heel to make the ten foot trip to your own apartment, he calls out your name.

“I’m Juyeon, by the way.” He grins, waving as you push open your door.

“Now that is quite the interesting development.” Kevin snorts, helping himself to one of the raspberry filled donuts you’d just finished baking.

“If you keep eating my product, I’m gonna have to kick you out of the kitchen and out of my bakery,” you chide, swatting his hands away from the baker’s rack. “And how is that interesting in the slightest? I literally gave him the cookies, apologized, and that was that.”

“He was literally flirting with you, Y/N. Changmin, tell her I’m right. Apparently I’m no longer a voice of reason here.” He says through a full mouth.

“I mean, yeah? Kinda? Calling a girl nice is usually guy code for ‘I think you’re attractive and I could see myself sleeping with you’,” Changmin shrugs, tearing off a piece of Kevin’s donut. “But I also see where you’re coming from. You did just meet each other. He could’ve just been trying to console you in a way.”

“Why am I even friends with men when they’re useless?” You throw your head back, speaking to no one in particular.

Perhaps Kevin truly was overthinking the situation. Juyeon seemed to be a kind person who probably didn’t want any problems with his neighbors. It made sense why he’d side with you after witnessing your break up. Besides, the wounds were still too fresh to even consider thinking of anyone else in such a way. No matter how hot they may be…

You’d just have to wait and see for yourself. Only time could tell what would become of the nature of your relationship with your cute new neighbor.

You look insane with everything in your cart, filled to the brim with baking ingredients. It was around 10 PM and here you were, at the grocery store buying the things needed to make cinnamon rolls. Being a baker with a bit of a sweet tooth meant your cravings got a little out of hand at times, forcing you to make drastic decisions. (I.E. grocery shopping so late at night.)

Even your clothing choice was silly: flimsy pajama shorts with Care Bears patterned on them, a baggy t-shirt, and matching slippers. It’s not like anyone cared anyway. And it wasn’t like you were trying to impress anybody either.

But as you’re walking towards the registers, you start to regret your outfit. You very quickly spot your neighbor with a basket on his arm, waiting in line for self-checkout. You feel all the color drain from your face as you stand there, staring like an absolute idiot.

He’s dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants, a hoodie swallowing his figure. He looks so effortlessly good, it kind of makes you upset. Because how are you just now meeting a guy who’s both kind and attractive? As far as you were concerned, they didn’t exist in real life— they only existed in fairytales.

Juyeon looks up from his phone and catches your eye, his hand coming up to give you a little wave and one of those crinkly eye smiles that he does when you pass each other in the hall.

As the weeks have passed, you’ve seen him more and more than you deemed normal. You’d bump into each other on the way to or from picking up your mail, you’d hold the elevator for the other in record time, and you’d even leave your apartments at the same time. Now it appears you’re running into the guy at the supermarket, too. You tried to chalk it all up to coincidence, that you just both happened to be thinking on the same wavelength.

But shyly waving back to him right now reminds you that divine intervention had crazy ways of working its magic. Perhaps those had all just been openings for you to engage in something more with your cute neighbor. And there was only one way to find out.

You psych yourself up as you walk towards him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Juyeon’s smile grows wider as he notices you approaching. “Hey, stranger. What are you up to tonight?”

“Some late baking,” you giggle, wanting to punch yourself in the face for sounding like a goddamn school girl. “I was actually wondering if you’d like to come over and keep me company? Totally up to you of course! I just thought it might be nice to get to know each other properly.”

Your suggestion is what leads the two of you to meet back up at your apartment after purchasing your respective groceries. You attempt to tidy up as best you can while you wait for the knock at your door, setting out all the ingredients on the counter and preheating your oven.

The soft knock comes moments later and you find yourself practically running to open the door, grinning at the sheepish expression on Juyeon’s face. You allow him inside of your apartment, trailing after him into the kitchen. Part of you felt like you were moving on too fast after Daehyun. As a baker, your kitchen was your safe space. It was where you went when you needed to be alone and in the comfort of what you knew best. Kevin and Changmin were the only ones you trusted to be within that element. For you to let Juyeon in— to let him permeate the walls you’ve never let down before, not even with your ex— was brand new territory.

“I almost forgot you own a bakery,” Juyeon speaks up, fingers tracing along the stand mixer. “But seeing all this expensive equipment reminded me of that. It only makes sense that someone as sweet as you would constantly be around sweet treats.”

You fail to bite back your smile. Maybe this was for the better. Maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor. He laughs when you nudge his shoulder, grabbing all the dry ingredients for the dough.

“On a scale of one to ten, how patient are you?” You ask, avoiding his eyes as you open the flour. The question was in regards to several things.

“I’d say about an eight or nine. Patience is a virtue, you know. It comes easily if you practice hard enough.” He answers, leaning against the counter and watching you.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, searching for your measuring cups. Both you and Juyeon begin to measure out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. You decide to let him take some of the reins, folding in the mixture of milk, egg, butter, and yeast. While he does that, you prepare the cinnamon sugar.

“I think I’m done. What do I do next?” He turns to you, head cocked to the side slightly. You might actually die of cuteness aggression. The duality of man would one day drive you to the brink of insanity.

“Now you just knead it until it’s smooth.” Your back is to him as you say this, putting away any refrigerated items so they don’t go bad. But as you face him again, you wish you hadn’t.

Your eyes zero in on his hands, kneading the dough with careful, nimble fingers. You feel light-headed as you slip into a spell, gawking at how long and slender they are, massaging the dough like an expert. How had you never noticed how big and pretty his hands were?

Maybe baking with Juyeon was a bad idea. You could barely focus on anything but his fingers pressing the under-construction-cinnamon rolls into the counter. Oh how badly you wanted to be that dough— his hands all over you, groping and massaging and kneading and caressing everywhere they could reach.

The veins running up his arms weren’t helping either, instead fueling the fire burning in the pit of your stomach. You feel your lips part, eyes glossed over with that all too familiar lustful intensity. You wouldn’t be surprised if you had to wipe away drool after this.

“Y/N?” Juyeon glances up from the dough, a little taken aback by your reverie. He follows your line of sight, grinning to himself smugly when he realizes what has you so transfixed. He’s finally found your weakness, and he couldn’t wait to dangle it over your head. Patience was a virtue, but perhaps it would be okay for him to dabble with a vice for once.

He pushes out the dough, using his thumbs to spread it into a rectangular shape. He feels his blood pressure rising the darker your eyes get. However, he’s aware that you just recently got out of a relationship. He wants to move at a pace you’re comfortable with. So he won’t take the first step. He has to leave that up to you.

It’s at a certain point that you come to, blinking to force away the dirty thoughts plaguing your mind. You travel your field of vision to his face, where you find him already looking at you. Your cheeks heat up in mortification from being caught red-handed. You were just gawking at the poor guy’s like they were a piece of fresh meat. This was terrible.

You swallow thickly, averting eye contact to grab the bowl of cinnamon sugar. “Uh, we can start forming the rolls now so they can rise. And then— um— and then we can make the glaze.”

The burn of his gaze on your profile has you tripping over your words, cinnamon sugar sprinkling onto the counter space surrounding and the knife almost slipping from your grip when you go to cut the dough. Juyeon catches it for you, wrapping his fingers around yours to guide your movements and keep them steady.

You feel his breath behind your ear, his chest pressed to your back. His hand is so much larger than your own, nearly covering it entirely. He doesn’t make an effort to move either, rolling the dough into swirl shapes along with you. The whole time this is happening, neither of you are saying a word, letting the silence consume you and the air around you.

As the rolls are rising/baking, you set up everything necessary for making the icing. Juyeon watches with hearts in his eyes as you whisk the sugar, cream cheese, vanilla, and butter in a separate bowl. He wonders how many other people you let see you in this setting. How many people get to see you do the thing you love so dearly?

“I’d like to visit your bakery sometime, if you wouldn’t mind,” Juyeon suddenly says, resting his elbows on the counter as you taste test the icing. “I wanna try all of the desserts you bake.”

“I’m opening later tomorrow morning actually,” you smile, humming in appreciation when the sweetness of the glaze hits your taste buds. “You can come with me to try the fresh batches before I put them out? I’ll warn you though, I get there at like six.”

“AM?” His eyes practically pop out of their sockets.

“Yes, AM.” You laugh, lightly shoving him backwards.

“I’ll put like ten alarms so I can make sure I’m up in time, then.” He pokes his cheek with his tongue, tipping his head to the side. The goofy smile on your face remains even after minutes have passed and the two of you are just waiting for the cinnamon rolls to finish baking.

It feels like hours have gone by with the two of you standing there when they’re finally ready. The ding of the oven has you springing into action, putting on some oven mitts and taking out the baking sheet. Juyeon's eyes light up and even though you’d just been losing your mind over how insane he was making you, you find yourself cooing at him.

He laughs as you grab a couple spare icing bags for the cinnamon roll glaze, filling them generously. You hand one over to him and decide to split the rolls evenly, icing one half yourself while he does the other. And for once, you think that tonight might end normally. You think that nothing eventful will happen and you’ll just ice the cinnamon rolls without problems.

But you were wrong, like always.

“Ah, shit—”

You glance up from the roll you were glazing to see what the fuss was about. Juyeon’s icing bag tore somehow, the sticky topping getting all over his hand. Truly, you were no better than a man, with the filthy thoughts inhabiting your brain almost instantaneously.

He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking the glaze off the back of his hand and wrapping his lips around his thumb. You felt dizzy, drunk on the sight of your extremely attractive neighbor doing something so sensual without even trying to. You bite your lip, accidentally dropping your own icing bag due to lack of attention.

Juyeon smirks slightly, relishing in the way it takes absolutely nothing to hypnotize you with his hands alone. He really tried to keep himself contained. He really wanted you to extend the first olive branch, but he knows you’re apprehensive. So just this once, he tells himself that it’s okay to initiate, to give you a little push in the right direction.

He takes a step closer to you, caging you against the counter. You stare up at him with wide, doe eyes, as if you were completely innocent despite the naughty images flashing behind them. Juyeon brings his thumb up to your lips, the pad of it still covered in icing.

“Think you could clean this up for me?” He asks, voice low and husky. You could actually combust with that all on its own.

Just like your formal introduction, you don’t give yourself the time to think, and act, instead, running your tongue along the length of his thumb. Juyeon doesn’t restrain the groan in the back of his throat, holding your face in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss.

You reciprocate immediately, fisting his hoodie like it was the only thing capable of stabilizing you. Maybe it was, with the way Juyeon’s lips synchronized with yours and his fingers tangled in your hair. You thought the ground would swallow you whole and wake you up from this dream. On what planet did someone like Lee Juyeon like a girl like you?

His hands slide down your body, groping everything in their path desperately before cupping under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter. He knocks the baking sheet of cinnamon rolls out of the way, palms rubbing up and down the sides of your legs. You want more, so much more, but you’re afraid to ask. You’re afraid to start something you’re not even sure you can emotionally handle.

Juyeon senses your hesitation, detaching from you momentarily. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. I understand if you still need time.”

“N-No, I want this— I want you— I'm just… scared.” You breathe, your forehead using his shoulder for support.

“I'm not him, Y/N. I can give you the world if you’d let me. I’d never do what he did to you, that’s a promise.” He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissing the crown of your head.

“Okay,” you nod, smiling up at him. “I trust you, Juyeon.”

You reconnect your lips as his fingers slip beneath your pajama shorts, toying with the waistband of your panties. His lips curl up when he feels you squirm, legs parting to make more room for him in the middle of them. You sigh, body shuddering when he drags his knuckle down your clothed slit.

Juyeon hooks his fingers into your shorts and underwear, hauling them down your legs. You place your hands behind you to brace yourself, a shiver trailing your spine when the cool air of your apartment hits your warm core. He groans again at the sight of you bare for him, using two fingers to spread your lower lips.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he swears, his thumb slowly circling your clit.

You whine, tossing your head back as he applies more pressure. Bit by bit, you begin to lose yourself to the pleasure of Juyeon’s gorgeous hands. Soon the stimulation on your clit amplifies when he adds another finger, thrusting it in and out of your entrance. He curls deep inside of you, like he was reaching for something he’d left.

One finger turns to two, and before you know it, Juyeon’s openly finger fucking you on the counter. He leans over your body to keep your lips together, kissing you sloppily while all his focus is on drawing you to the edge. You can almost taste it, your saccharine release in your field of vision now.

It’s a little embarrassing how quickly he was able to wind you up and trip you over the edge, but you feel too euphoric to care. You pause in your kiss to look down at his handy work. (No pun intended.) It makes your head feel foggy and your vision blurry to see his deft fingers fucking you open, veins bulging, like he’d done this many times before. Your hooded eyes follow them up his forearms, a whine escaping your lips.

A particular curl of his fingers and circle of his thumb have you clenching around him, creaming like you’d never had an orgasm in your life. He doesn’t slow his assault, bringing you down just to put you back up on that summit once again. The overstimulation has you cumming a second time in a matter of what felt like seconds, whimpers becoming voluminous moans.

Juyeon kisses you softly, gently pulling out his fingers to lick them clean like he did with the cinnamon roll glaze. A choked groan bubbles past your mouth, tossing an arm over your eyes. He laughs, towing you to the edge of the counter.

He brushes some stray hairs out of your face, moving your arm to smile dopily at you. “I hope you know I was being serious about the whole treating you better thing. If you’ll give me the chance.”

“I know. I told you I trust you, remember?” You nip at the inside of your cheek. His eyes crinkle up like they tend to do when he’s smiling so genuinely. It forces the wind out of you, because how could you ever get used to a sight so stunning?

“You’re so cute.” He laughs, kissing all around your face and smushing your cheeks together.

“Juyeon,” you mumble. “I’m half naked…”

“Even better,” he grins, pecking the tip of your nose. “Makes it that much easier to do all of the other things I wanna do to you.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz juyeon #tbz juyeon #lee juyeon x reader #lee juyeon smut #juyeon x reader #juyeon smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

[wooahaes]

a healthy change of mind

pairing: non-idol!hoshi x fem!reader

genre: domestic fluff. established relationship au.

warnings: food mention. mentions that reader didn't enjoy her bday growing up. skinship.

word count: ~1.0k

daisy's notes: domestic fluff i love u i love u i love u-

There was always an odd sense of intimacy in tying someone’s apron for them. Soonyoung liked it most when it was you, because he could always press a gentle kiss against your neck when he was done… and you would do the same, giving him butterflies in his stomach all over again.

Today was your birthday, and Soonyoung was happy to greet you when you finally came home from spending time with your friends. He liked being the person who saw the way you melted a bit with exhaustion, the person who snuggled with you on the couch as you recharged your battery. He understood how that felt, too: sometimes after he spent his days with his friends, he just needed to rest in your company. There was always something so easy about being around you. He felt special that you could just snuggle up with him and relax. He’d watched you remove your makeup and take off the jewelry (all little things your friends had bought you over the years), and he stole a kiss from you after you’d shed your shirt to change into sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. 

“I don’t wanna go out tonight,” you had sighed against his shoulder. “Soonyoung?” You lifted your head, meeting his gaze. “Can we cook?”

Soonyoung was not a chef. Hell, he didn’t really cook much at all. You’d taught him a little before, but he never felt any good at it. His food never tasted anywhere near as good as yours (although, strangely enough, you said the same when he made you scrambled eggs one morning to surprise you with how much he’d been practicing), and half the time he ended up burning something… But if you wanted him to help you, he would happily help you. It wasn’t the first time you’d ask him to do that anyway. He’d always stay by your side, chopping ingredients and preparing whatever it was that you needed him to do. 

Unfortunately, it did call for a visit to the grocery store. Soonyoung held the basket in one hand, and your hand in the other as you guided him around the store. Another day, you two would do a proper grocery store visit… But that was for another day, definitely. He carried the bags home, still keeping his fingers intertwined with your own. And then he tied your apron, and kissed your neck before you did the same for him. That was what led to now, as you passed him a pair of gloves and asked him to dice chicken for you while you started to work on a sauce for your pasta. 

“You know,” you’d been measuring out heavy cream when you spoke up, “I like my birthday now.” 

He glanced up from where he was carefully cutting chicken. “You do?”

“Mhm. My birthday always kinda sucked when I was growing up,” you shrugged. “I mean—It always kinda felt like they were about other people than just me. My cake always had to be something everyone liked instead of something I liked.” For a moment, you paused, and then looked up, waving a hand. “Not that I didn’t like it! I like vanilla cake just fine,” you shrugged. “But… I dunno. Ice cream cakes are nice. Cupcakes are nice. I just kinda wish it was my decision more often, y’know?”

Is that why you told him not to worry about a cake…? He just watched you for a moment, trying to gauge your thoughts. “It can be your decision now.”

For a second, you just stood there, processing that. “Soonie?” You looked up, voice so small now. “Can we order cake? It can just be two slices for delivery, but—”

He laughed, warm as ever, and nodded. “I’ll pull up the app when I’m done and we can look. Tell me more about your birthdays.”

You shook your head. “Nah. I mean… I never really liked being ‘the birthday girl’ with all the attention on her, y’know? I like what I can do now. Going out with my friends, and then just… getting to come home to you and do something laid-back.” With a blissful sigh, you continued to make the alfredo sauce for your pasta. “I like that I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not.” 

Something ached in his chest at that. You hadn’t told him everything about your past, sure, but you’d told him that you did hide things about yourself growing up. Your interests, your personality, all wrapped up in a tight package of anxiety that you’d say the wrong thing or do something and be hated. It was all irrational, and you knew that now, but as a child with anxiety? Soonyoung couldn’t fault you for struggling so much with it growing up. Yet something softened inside of him as he realized the implications of what you said: you felt safe being yourself around him.

Good, then. He liked being himself around you, too.

The gloves crinkled as they came off, and he tossed them into the bin before making his way over to you. You turned right as he wrapped his arms around you, pressing a long kiss against your lips before drawing away. 

You smiled at him. “Hi?”

“Hi,” he giggled. “Happy birthday. I love you.” 

You kissed him back, soft and sweet, before pulling away. “I love you, too, you dork.” 

Soonyoung drew away, already going for his phone to start looking up dessert places. He would have done this for you a thousand times over if it meant he could see that pretty smile on your face. And he knew he’d kiss that smile again when the night was over and you were back where you belonged in his arms.

Hopefully, you two could spend your next birthday just like this, too.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #hoshi x you #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung fluff #kwon soonyoung x you #wooahaes.24

[blood-injections]

Having postcomic thoughts again.. especially within my au where when the girl frees the city and she finds the fab four who were stuck there being controlled by bli but wake up when she frees everyone's souls.

The war would be over, but fighting wouldn't stop. Theres no more dracs and the director is dead but not everyone was being mind controlled, the citizens would all just keep living peacefully and those that were dracs would go home to their families in the desert or city, but a lot of people genuinely believed in bli and were loyal to them, think of all the higher ups that would salvage what was left of bli and make their own resistance now, trying to get their utopia back. Most citizens and people freed wouldn't want to fight or take a side and lots of killjoys would want to retire and put up their guns now that their lives aren't on the line.

But there will still be those loyal to bli, and without dracs or a government there's going to be tons of looting and petty crime in the city but thats not something that can be fought with ray guns, so until something new is set up that's just going to happen.

But there will still be those loyal to bli that refuse to go quietly, and there will also be killjoys that have spent their whole lives fighting a war, that can't just settle for peace all of a sudden, because all they know is fighting for their lives, their freedom. Some will just be restless, but some will always be full of rage, always wanting something to fight, vel velocity would be like this. And there's killjoys that will always hate the city and those that reside there. It doesn't matter that everyone was being controlled and that the city was being run by a bunch of crazy assholes, it doesn't matter that everyone that's left in battery city are just People now.

So there will still be a fight, there will still be rebels. There will still be assholes on either side that refuse to give up their way of life.

And when the girl frees everyone's souls and finds the fab four and brings them home and they settle back in, they'll be restless too, because the last memory they have is dying, its sacrificing themselves to save the girl. And they've been cooped up in the city and they've been under blis control for twelve whole years, and they're restless too, they're angry, because they've had twelve years of their lives stolen from them, because they slaughtered and brought back to life by bli just to be their lap dogs, and they've been used to do god knows what while under their control, and they've been gone and they get back to the desert and find that their friends are gone and they never got a chance to say goodbye, and they missed out on getting to see the girl grow up, shes eighteen now. So they'll be restless, some more than others, one or two might want revenge.

And theres a few assholes from the city dumb enough to keep going, so the fight is not over. The fabulous four, well, fabulous five, now that the girl(Boomstick, she goes by, and it's a fitting name) is all grown up, they will continue to fight, because they're The killjoys, and they won't rest until all traces of better living are gone for good.

They get to fight with Boomstick for the first time, who, sure, they let her blow something up every now and then as a kid, but for the most part they kept her out of danger. But now she's close to the ages they were when they died saving her, and she can fight(she cant shoot in the comics and thats bullshit shes been on her own for twelve years bruh she's fought her fair share of dracs she can shoot a gun a right), she can build bombs as good as Ghoul and shoot as good as Jet, she's the sum of the fabulous four and all their skills. They're a family and now they all get to fight together, they get to catch up, figure out who they are now. And they're unmatched, and they'll end the war once and for all.

#corvids postcomic killjoy au #boomstick posting #danger days #my chemical romance #ttlotfk #mcr danger days #mcr #killjoys #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #fun ghoul #party poison #jet star #kobra kid #the girl danger days #danger days au #danger days hcs #corvidscrap

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Heat of the Moment - AU Steve Rogers x OC

warnings: modern AU steve rogers, DBF, age gap romance,DOM Steve, rough smut, 18+

word count: 12.5k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1330362443-heat-of-moment-regan

Masterlist

Sweat trickled down Regan's back as she climbed out of the cab and waved to the driver, quickly thanking them before they sped away from their destination. An unreasonable heat was smothering Brooklyn and Regan figured it was her luck that her first week at her father's apartment would be miserable. As if having to move back home at 25 after getting fired wasn't bad enough. 

There was nothing against anyone getting some help in their time of need, but Regan couldn't deny it kept her stomach in constant knots. Her dad was one of the good ones, married to his high school sweetheart until her mom passed and she'd always been what some might call a daddy's girl. Ever since Regan was born during her parent's senior year of high school, he was wrapped around her finger. It made sense that he'd be the one to swoop in and save the day. 

Hopefully, Regan thought, he wouldn't mind if I came home a few days earlier. 

She took a deep breath and climbed the few steps to the building's door, a worn duffel bag in hand. It was something from a thrift shop in London, the place Regan had called home for two years until the production company she worked for decided her services were no longer needed. Her fingers fiddled with the straps as she walked. It wasn't out of anxiety, but anticipation. 

Right before Regan took a leap and moved in pursuit of something more, she helped her dad move into this moderately upscale apartment complex. It had a rooftop pool, patio, and balconies on the windows, the perfect place for a guy like Regan's father. 

It also had his neighbor down the hall, Steve Rogers. 

She met him on the day her dad moved in. He was broad-shouldered, brooding, and tough as nails, an honourably discharged former captain in the US Army. The fact that he was built like a god and had that little accent in his voice didn't hurt either.

Steve was the same age as her dad and they found some common interests, but their bond came from both being veterans. Usually, she hated the stories from her dad's time overseas, but hearing Steve tell some of his own? She could listen to that gravelly voice all goddamn day. 

The trip on the elevator was a haze, Regan's mind retreating into the place that got her into trouble at school. She was so focused on whatever tale her mind was spinning, something warm and tinted in blue, that the elevator opening didn't even register on her radar. 

At first, neither did the man who stepped on it, until he finally said her name. 

"Hey, Regan," Steve said into the quiet space, a small twitch of his lips under his dark beard. 

His voice shot a wave of goosebumps on her skin and it made her shiver a little. He had this air of authority surrounding him. 

"Steve." Regan breathed, her fingers lifting nervously to pull the strand of hair out of her vision as her eyes travelled over the man in front of her.

"I thought your dad said you weren't going to be home for another couple of days," he crossed his arms over his chest and turned his bright blue eyes in her direction, meeting her gaze.

The fluorescent lights of the elevator made his eyes a deeper blue than they normally were and it seemed to darken each feature of his face. His beard was fuller than it had been the last time she'd seen him and Regan could see the shape of his dog tags under his white t-shirt. 

She cleared her throat and turned her attention back to the metal doors in front of her, hoping he hadn't caught her staring, "yeah that's what I thought but you know, once I finished my last day, there wasn't really much over there for me anymore so I just... left," her lips pulled into a thin line as she shrugged.

She shifted the bag in her hand, rolling the strap around nervously in her sweaty palm. She had forgotten how tall he was and now in their blistering proximity, she was forcibly reminded. 

“You’ll find a new job quickly,” Steve quipped, moving on so easily from her practically groping him with her eyes. “From all the ranting your dad does about you, you’re a talent most production companies are fighting to get their hands on.” 

She did all she could not to turn the color of a tomato as the embarrassment set in. Of course, they had been talking about her when she wasn’t around to play buffer. God only knows the things her father has told him about his sweet, precious little girl. 

Regan groaned audibly, unable to stop herself.

"I know it must be frustrating to move back home after being so independent and successful but I'm certain that your father will do everything in his power to get you back in the workforce. After all, you're his little princess." Regan detected a slight change in tone when he spoke that she decided to ignore. But the tinge of mockery in his tone got under her skin.

Regan snorted and shook her head as the elevator door dinged above them, "thanks Steve but as comforting as that is, I don't know what an army vet is going to do to get me back into film," she shifted her bag on her shoulder and walked out of the elevator onto the dusty green carpet of the 7th floor. 

"You know what I meant, Regan," Steve's voice dropped an octave as he followed behind her. 

She let out a soft sigh and nodded once, "yeah I know, I'm sorry, it's just, been a day and I was hoping to avoid the job talk at least until I had it figured out myself," she mumbled, pausing for a second outside of her dad’s apartment.

“You can’t avoid the tough stuff forever,” Steve said flatly, “life happens, and you have to deal with it.”

“I know that better than most,” Regan said bitterly as she turned at the door to her father’s apartment to find Steve standing with his hands on his hips.  “My mother. Remember?”

Steve nodded solemnly, piercing eyes boring into her as she stood defiantly.

“Anyway,” she looked away, breaking first, and fumbled with her keys. “Thanks for the advice.  I’ll be sure to consider it.”

“It should be open,” Steve offered behind her, “your dad was expecting me to drop in.” 

Regan nodded, curt and defeated as Steve’s hand landed on the wood just above her head. Palm flat and fingers splayed, she peered up to see flexed tendons and thick veins running beneath his tanned skin. Steve pushed, and sure enough, the door swung open with ease. 

“In the kitchen, Steve!” Regan heard her dad call as the sounds of cupboards and drawers opened and closed, and her dad’s off-tune humming echoed through to the hall. 

Having to move back home wasn’t ideal, but the warmth and familiarity of her dad’s apartment were welcoming nonetheless.

“Twinkle-toes!” her dad dropped the plastic containers into the sink and rushed around the island into the open hallway of his apartment. “You’re home!” 

Regan let the horrifying nickname slide as she dropped her bag to the floor and sunk into the giant bear hug her father wrapped her small frame into. He wasn’t a small man, rivalling Steve in height he was built thicker around the middle. His long blond beard had turned grey and brown. But the same soft and sad chocolate brown eyes stared down at her as he pulled back to inspect. 

“The London air has you looking all posh, have you been eating?” He asked, pinching her arm playfully. 

“On a hearty diet of a pack of cigarettes and croissants.” She rolled her eyes.

He laughed heartily and attempted to ruffle her hair, Regan dodging to the side at the last second with a scrunched nose and a snort. 

"A little early aren't you?" her father, Colin, asked, concern furrowing his brow. 

"Yeah," Regan breathed as she shifted her weight where she stood. "Just felt like coming home. I'd had enough pretentious movie assholes to last me a lifetime." 

A warm palm brushed the small of her back as Steve stepped by. Without a word, he grabbed the bag from beside her and carried it into the living room, setting the object on the sofa. Regan's eyes followed every flex of his broad back, tucked under a tight white t-shirt that made her brain turn to mush. 

A little spark of irritation ran through her at both the gesture and the feeling it gave her in front of her father of all people.

"Come sit. You must be exhausted." her father motioned to the sofa where Steve just put her bag. 

As she and her father sat down next to each other Steve opted to take the seat on the other side of the coffee table, settling on the armchair across from her. As she brought her father up to speed on her life, she felt Steve watching her attentively. Those incredible blue eyes she could get lost in bore right into her skin leaving a trail of flames in their wake. It was incredibly hard to have him so close but also so incredibly unattainable.

“Well, sweetheart, I hope you brought your appetite with you. Steve and I were just gonna fire up the grill and watch the game.” He voiced, tapping her knee as he stood from his place, “you up for some ribs and beers?” 

Regan smiled softly at her dad, “That sounds great I’m just gonna wash the 5  hours of plane and screaming babies off and I'll meet you up there.”

Her dad winced in sympathy and nodded, ruffling her hair before heading back into the kitchen.  Turning to Steve she smiled, which turned a little awkward and she began to flush, trying to decipher the look in his eyes.

“So I’m just gonna…you know…take a…see you later?” She babbled mentally kicking herself for sounding like a blithering idiot.

“Are you telling me or are you asking me, Princess?” He smirked.

Regan’s eyes widened in surprise, surely he couldn’t mean… She felt the flush creeping up her neck and spreading over her cheeks.  With all her usual sassy responses abandoning her she turned on her heel and almost ran into her bedroom, pushing the door as she went through, not even bothering to check if it was fully closed.

Heading into her shower room she turned on the water and took off her clothes, leaving them in a pile in the corner of the room.  She let out a sigh as she stepped under the spray, arching her back to let the water stream over her hair.

Steam was quickly filling up the bathroom with how hot the water was, but Regan really needed it. She stood still under the shower head, just letting the scalding hot water run down her body, warming up her skin and relaxing the tense muscle underneath it.

Truthfully, the plane ride over was greatly responsible for the tension, but she could admit, only to herself, that it wasn’t the whole reason. She could still feel the pressure and warmth of Steve’s palm over the small of her back, his fingers spread wide in an almost… possessive gesture.

She shook her head, trying to will the dangerous thoughts away. She’d always had a taste for older men, but Steve? He was her dad’s best friend, definitely off-limits. 

Her traitorous body shivered at the thought.

With more force than necessary, she squeezed a dollop of shampoo into the palm of her hand. The artificial scent of strawberries filled her lungs as she massaged her scalp, sighing in relief. She had kept buying it because Steve told her he liked strawberries once, well, she chose not to think about that and quickly washed it off.

She kept the same pace while washing her body, slowly massaging the soap into her skin and letting the tension go. Steve and her dad were probably impatiently waiting for her to get out so they could all eat, but the feeling of suds being washed off her skin was too good to make quick work of it, and she still wasn’t done getting rid of her inappropriate thoughts.

Only a creaking sound got her to speed up, just barely audible over the loud sound of insistent drops crashing over her shoulders. The pipes were letting her know her time was up.

Steam plumed as she stepped out onto the mat, letting the partially frosted glass door slide closed behind her.  A slight draft tickled her skin as she wrapped herself in a large fluffy towel; the bathroom door was open, letting the precious steam out.  Regan sighed as she towelled her hair, scrunching it lightly to soak up most of the water. It would probably get wet in the pool later.

Coming out of the bathroom, she smiled, seeing her forgotten bag on her bed next to a neatly laid-out outfit; her dad was always so thoughtful.  The pretty cornflour blue sundress was the same colour as her mother’s eyes, and the cute daisies patterned on the fabric were her favourite.  It was perfect for a sunny rooftop afternoon.

Slipping the dress over her blue and white checked bikini, the fabric felt wonderful against her clean skin.  Tying the dress behind her neck, she turned for the mirror.  She had been home only a few hours and already she looked and felt more relaxed.  Being home agreed with her, more than she would ever admit aloud.  She picked up a cute white cardigan and, taking one last look in the mirror, headed up to the roof of the building.

New York's summer heat was a shocker after years in London, the sun sweltering on her skin the moment she stepped out into the open air. 

“There she is!” Steve’s heart-stopping smile met her as she approached the two men. 

Leaning on the brickwork of the building with his arms folded over his broad chest, Steve’s heavy gaze fell upon her. His blue eyes tracked over her figure, subtle in their journey from her legs to the halter of her bikini top — where they lingered as his jaw ticked. 

Regan swallowed thickly and made a point of joining her father by the grill. 

In her peripherals, she caught Steve pushing himself away from the wall and sauntering over to the cooler before a dripping beer bottle was held out in front of her with no other acknowledgement.

Regan’s hand brushed against Steve's as she hesitantly took it. The frigid drops of water melted down over her hot skin. “Thanks,” she said, barely getting the word out. 

“Sure,” he winked. “That's your favourite right?” 

She turned the bottle in her hand and smiled, “how’d you know?” 

“Colin here tells all the stories in your absence, including the one about you sleeping in the bathtub after one particularly rowdy night,” Steve licked his bottom lip and tossed her dad a goofy smile. 

“Is nothing sacred?” Regan tossed her hair over her shoulder, turning away from them both to take in the views from the rooftop. God, she had missed Brooklyn and for more than one reason, she looked over her shoulder at the broad expanse of his muscles stretching beneath his shirt as he pointed to the grill and chatted with her dad.

Taking a long, much needed gulp from the icy bottle, she prayed that it would be enough to cool her off. A slightly unsteady hand caused a drop of foamy beer to spill down her chin and neck. 

"Fuck," she muttered under her breath as Colin's boisterous laugh echoed across the rooftop. 

A tingle on her skin made Regan look up as she wiped the liquid with her fingers. Steve watched her from across her father's head as he told some story, gesturing wildly with a pair of barbecue tongs. It looked as if he was assessing her like she was a danger he couldn't figure out how to approach. 

Emboldened by both distance and the heat, she raised an eyebrow and brought her thumb to her full lips. Gently sucking the beer from her fingertip, Steve's stare melted her from the inside. 

There was another twitch of his jaw before he turned away to help her dad once more. That was all she got and Regan couldn't deny that it stung but shook the feeling off.

She walked to the edge of the rooftop, pressing her stomach against the railing, her eyes travelling over the beautiful New York skyline. 

Suddenly she felt a hand on her back and it was clear from the way her body reacted to the touch who was standing behind her. His heat radiated over her as his hand lingered a second longer.

"You missed this, huh?" She heard him say and as she looked up, she found him looking at her. 

"Yeah. London is beautiful but nothing beats this view."

"I can think of something that beats this view," His voice rasped, laced with something wicked and before she could respond, he was gone.

Regan looked over her shoulder, watching Steve’s retreating form, all firm muscles beneath his tight shirt, jeans hugging his pert ass. 

She whipped back around, breathing in deeply, trying to calm her racing heart. Taking another sip of beer, she pushed off the railing and went to a lounge chair near her dad and Steve, just within earshot. 

Regan lay in the sun, warming quickly, getting sticky hot in her dress. She sat up, glancing over at the two men and getting caught in Steve’s gaze. Her dad was busy with the ribs but Steve’s blue eyes bore into her. 

With a sly smile, Regan slowly stood and peeled her dress up and off her body, revealing her bikini underneath.

She could feel his eyes on her as she hid a sly smile from his view. Regan sat back down in the lounge chair and took another long sip of her beer before dragging the cold bottle along her collarbone, trying to cool herself off. As she sat the bottle on a small table beside her, Regan could feel his eyes follow her every movement. 

Meanwhile, Steve gulped and reached for his own beer as he adjusted himself as discreetly as he could while he continued to listen to Collin ramble on about his story.

Even though she couldn’t hear his words the lilting tones of her Dad’s narrative amidst the distant noises of Brooklyn eventually lulled Regan into a comforting bubble of sleepiness.  The warmth of the late afternoon sun only exacerbated the tiredness she felt from her long journey and she let her lids slide almost closed, dozing lazily on the chair.

A whisper of breath against her neck made her shiver as a low voice sounded quietly in her ear.

“Careful you don’t burn that pretty skin of yours, Princess.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed thickly, trying to pass off the butterflies that erupted in her stomach at the closeness as she shifted and pushed her chest out slightly, "I don't think that's a concern for you to have, Rogers," she quipped back quietly and opened one of her eyes to meet his. 

Steve's tongue swiped across his bottom lip as his left eyebrow ticked upwards at her comment, making a blush rise up her neck, "well that's something we disagree about..." his eyes flickered back to Colin who was still facing away from them, watching the grill, "all that time in London, and now you think you can get away with everything," he smirked. 

The way he was looking at her made every nerve in her body tingle, the fear of her father turning around and seeing how close they were in the back of her mind, but the flirty almost demanding banter from Steve was enough for her to push it to the side. 

"I guess we'll have to see how much I can get away with," she returned the smirk, and waved her empty beer bottle at him, plastering on a sweet smile and blinking up at him, "since you're up anyway, would you mind?" she teased.

Steve smirked at her and leaned over, taking one more glance at her father who was completely oblivious to what was going on. Gingerly, he plucked the beer bottle from her fingers, his skin grazing against hers. She could see the veins in his forearm and it took all of her self-control not to trace them with her eyes. Sparks crackled along her skin and cascaded all the way down her spine. She bit her bottom lip and heat rushed to her cheeks, blossoming across her skin as Steve let out a soft chuckle.

“Must be the sun making you blush like that, hmm?”

Regan swallowed hard.

“Are you gonna get me my beer or stand there staring at me?”

She meant to sound more confident, but the way he was looking at her made it difficult to talk or even think. Her brain felt fuzzy, and it wasn’t from the beer. Steve flashed another smile, wider this time, his ocean blue eyes shining in the sunlight. 

“I can do both, can't I?” 

With that, he winked at her and headed for the cooler, her empty bottle dangling from his fingertips. Regan sat, sweat prickling her skin, with her mouth agape as she tried to process what was going on.

This couldn’t be happening. Was the too-sudden heat confusing her?

Steve had never been this bold before. There had been fleeting heated looks and barely there touches lingering a bit too long to be accidental, but he’d never quipped back to her flirty remarks.

The doubt that had plagued her since she met him was quickly fading into hopefulness. If she wasn’t imagining things, if Steve was actually flirting back… it had to mean he felt it too, the magnetic pull between them.

Her train of thought was interrupted by the feeling of something cold and wet grazing her wrist. She hissed, instinctively trying to pull her arm back, but Steve was quick to hold it still, sliding the edge of the cold beer bottle along her pulse point and right into her palm. Then, as if she was a child, he put his hand on hers and closed her fingers around it in a tight fist.

“Careful, there,” he murmured, his hot breath on her ear, “Why so jumpy, princess?”

“Maybe if you didn’t sneak up on me,” she replied, trying to keep her tone sharp. But the close proximity and firm hold on her hand stole her voice. 

Steve stood to his full height, looking over her, a handsome shadow haloed by the sun. 

“You’re a big city girl, Regan. Being aware of your surroundings is the number one rule, isn’t it?” He flashed her a lazy grin, the greys in his bread glistening in the light as he turned to survey the terrace before peering back down at her. “You never know what you might miss.” 

Regan’s whole body flushed hot and she was about to retaliate when Colin called a cheery ‘grubs up’, and Steve took two steps backward, a subtle wink and smirk on his face as he rubbed his hands together hungrily.

"Smells good, Dad," Regan said as she got up, following behind Steve to the patio table. "You always cook like this for Steve? Is there anything I need to know?" 

Colin snorted, setting the heavy plate of barbecued meat on the table as he sat down. Slipping her dress back over her tousled hair, Regan glanced over at Steve and this time, she was sure he actually smirked at her teasing. 

"Sorry honey, Steve isn't exactly my type." 

Regan chuckled, choosing the seat opposite her father.

"Just checking," she smiled. "I can't have you spoiling just anyone in my absence." 

As she reached to grip the wrought iron backing, Steve beat her to it, pulling the seat out wordlessly. Her eyes flitted up to his as she sat and fixed her dress, the flowing fabric falling just above her knees. There was a darkening in his eyes and Regan realized the position they were in again. If she leaned forward, her forehead would be at his stomach and her hands would- 

"How about you, twinkle toes?" Colin asked as he passed a set of plates to Regan. "Was there anyone you were cooking for in London? Must be a shame that you had to leave so soon."

Steve casually pulled out the chair beside her and every muscle in her body tensed when he took his seat.

“Really wasn’t there for that Dad, and no one really caught my eye there,” Regan muttered, trying to end the conversation before it started. Colin opened his mouth to speak again but Regan beat him to it. “Looks like you forgot the barbecue sauce, Dad. I’ll go grab it,” she said, relief coloring her tone as she pushed back from the table. 

Regan made her way across the roof and down to the apartment, taking a moment to breathe as she rested against the kitchen counter. 

“You okay there, Regan? Need any help?” came a deep voice behind her, sending a shiver down her spine.

Regan gulped, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up. "N-no, I'm okay." She opened one of the cabinets but didn't find the sauce. Her dad must have moved things around again in her absence. He was always re-organizing things. Shutting the cabinet door, she opened another one, only to sigh. Where in the hell did he put the damn sauce this time?

Frustrated, she let out a huff before hearing a soft deep chuckle behind her. 

"You're dad re-organized the kitchen in his usual manic state in prep for your return," he said as she finally turned to him. A smirk was plastered on his lips and his hair was dangling around his face while he leaned over the kitchen island propped up on his elbows, "told him the last thing you cared about was where the syrup lived." 

Regan couldn't help but breathe out a laugh despite the tingling sensation crawling over her body as his eyes darkened at the sound she made. Steve stood up straight, the white in his shirt a deeper shade from the sweat forcing it to cling to the muscles in his chest. She watched his fingers drag along the edge of the island as he circled around it toward her. The fact that he couldn't hear her heart hammering against her rib cage was shocking to her considering all she could hear was the thundering of it in her ears with the closer he got. 

As he moved to stand in front of her his tongue flicked over his bottom lip, "you've gotta be more observant, twinkle toes." Steve rasped, her father's nickname rolling off his tongue like a sin. 

His hand reached up and for a moment she thought he was going to touch her with the way he took a step forward with the action, but he reached behind her pulling open a cabinet and showed her the bottle of barbecue sauce. Regan became acutely aware of the shrinking space between them as he towered over her and the swarm of butterflies in her chest began to swirl.

The smell of his deep ember and vanilla spiced cologne swirled in her nose and made her head feel dizzy. Regan couldn't stop her eyes from flickering towards his plump lips as he smirked at her and placed the sauce bottle on the counter beside them. He had to know what he was doing to her, despite trying to keep her composure, she was convinced her feelings were right there in the open. 

His fingers brushed the side of her neck and pushed her blonde waves back off her bare shoulder, "I like your hair long like this," he finally spoke through the silence, "does your father know about the little tattoo on your rib cage?" his hand continued softly down over her dress, lightly brushing where the small lavender tattoo sat.

“Yeah, but he- he doesn’t really care,” Regan’s voice shook despite her trying to sound unaffected, “Do you?”

It was a bold question, and she wished to take it back as soon as it came out. She watched Steve’s face, holding her breath, waiting for him to react. What would he say? Had she read this wrong? Or, worse than that, had she read this right?

Steve didn’t react for a long moment, and she feared that this was it, that he would push her away, maybe even tell her dad, humiliate her.

Then, he hummed, low in his throat. “You really don’t keep any secrets from him, do you?”

He looked up at her, head tilted down and long eyelashes fluttering over his defined cheekbones, but it was the look in his eyes that took her breath away.

In the dim light of the kitchen, she could barely see the blue of his irises anymore. His pupils were impossibly wide, giving his eyes a dark, hungry look that had her core clenching around nothing.

He wanted her. He wanted her.

A spark of courage lit up in her chest.

“I could,” she whispered, wetting her lips.

“Yeah?” He breathed. “You think so?”

It was almost a challenge as he stepped toward her, closing the gap between the two of them. Every footstep, every breath felt so heavy between them as the tension mounted. Regan felt like she might burst.

Her heart was thumping in her throat while Steve stared her down, his eyes warm yet piercing. He was playing a dangerous game. They both were. 

She grabbed the bottle and placed it between them as a barrier. Steve’s large hand wrapped around it and her fingers, his eyes locking with hers. Suddenly, she found it hard to take a full breath the second he started to lean forward. Heat bloomed in her belly and the soft fabric of her dress was suddenly the most constricting and irritating thing in the world. She felt his other hand wrap around her waist and pressed her tighter against the counter like he was testing her limits along with his own.

“Why don’t I take this up to your dad and you cool off in here?” He suggested, moving his hand to brush his knuckles against her bare arm. “You feel a little warm.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, her voice crushed by the weight of the tension between them.

He grinned.

“Keep telling yourself that, princess.”

Steve dipped his head, beard grazing her cheek on his way to her ear and sending a tingle down her spine. The hand on her arm travelled further south and Regan’s breath hitched as she felt the hem of her dress lift from her skin. Steve thumbed at the fabric, rubbing it between his fingertips. 

“Pretty,” he purred, “a good choice, don’t you think?” 

As he drew back, Regan peered up at him confused as she took in his raised eyebrow and the sparkle in the blue of his irises — or what was left of them. His pupils were blown wide as he tilted his, studying her intensely.

And then he was gone, the warmth from his body and the intoxicating scent left lingering in the air as he walked away.

The pieces of the puzzle slid together slowly as she stared down at the dress she was wearing. She had just assumed her father had laid it out for her, stupid and naive she swore under her breath. She huffed, pushing off the counter and out into the hallway. Regan closed the apartment door behind her and jogged after him as quickly as her little legs would take her, sliding between him and the entrance to the roof before he could open it. 

She pressed her back against it, looking up at him. Arm tense and pressed into her side as he reached for the bar her back rested against. She watched a single bead of sweat roll down over his skin, trickling down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. 

 "Did you enjoy the show?" She asked, biting her tongue as he leaned close enough to brush against her nose. 

A soft tsk fell from his lips, "do you like being watched?" he asked, countering her question with his own. "Be honest," he whispered.

His voice carried the slight trace of an accent as he spoke, his eyes now so dark with wanton that she wondered how much self-control this man had. Hmmm, I could put that to the test, she thought.

"Wouldn’t you like to know," Her hand travelled to the belt of his pants, tugging slightly.

She watched him carefully as his eyes flared up and she could feel him struggle with his control.

"You're playing with fire, Regan."

“I like the heat,” Regan quipped, slipping her fingertips along the sliver of skin between his shirt and jeans. She could feel his abdomen tremble and she grinned, quickly withdrawing them and pressing backwards, pushing the door open and semi-gracefully twisting to the open rooftop. 

“Hey Dad, sorry that took so long, someone forgot to tell me they reorganized again,” Regan teased Colin as she made her way back to the table. 

“You comin’ Steve?” Colin called out and Regan glanced back, seeing Steve still standing at the door, hand deep in his pocket. 

She covered up a snort as he started, walking over slightly awkwardly before sitting at the table next to her again, a little closer than before. Regan glanced at Steve as he scooted his chair and adjusted how he sat before he began filling his plate with food. 

"So..." she began. "What have you two been up to while I was gone? Besides embarrassing me by sharing stories about me." She only half listened to her father's answer as she suddenly felt Steve's heavy hand on her knee beneath the table. 

She gave him the side eye. What the hell are you doing? Feeling him gently grip her knee while he openly acted as if nothing was happening only served to make the butterflies in her chest turn into bees.

His hand felt calloused and rough against her heated skin. She felt it slide further, pushing the hem of her dress with it just far enough to torture her with the question of how far he was willing to go with her father two feet away. 

"Regan? Honey, are you okay?" Her father's voice filtered through the flash flood of thoughts currently drowning her mind. 

"What? Oh--yea--yeah," She stammered. Steve's hand un-wavered from its position. Standing his ground and toeing the metaphorical line in the sand. She felt his forefinger begin to draw small tiny circles into the soft flesh of her inner thigh, setting fire to her scorched skin. 

"Where's your head at twinkle toes?" Colin asked, taking a bite of ribs. 

Regan shook her head, picking up her beer hoping to cool herself down, "Nowhere but here dad." She flashed him a somewhat convincing smile moving her hand under the table and curling her fingers around Steve's.

Her intention was to move his hand away, to silently scold him for being so bold in front of her father, but she couldn’t do it. 

Couldn’t deny herself the delicious feeling of his fingertips pressing into the flesh of her thigh, blood rushing back to her skin every time he shifted his grip higher. 

Her dad emptied his beer, reaching for the cooler to retrieve another and flashing them both a tipsy smile as he held one more out towards them in offering. 

“Last one,” he shrugged, gaze flitting between them. 

Only then did Steve’s hand leave Regan, long enough to flip the cap from the bottle and tilt it towards her. 

“You don’t mind sharing, do you, sweetheart?”

"I don't know where that mouth has been," she scoffed, pulling it from his grip. 

"Steve's a gentleman sweetie," Colin laughed at their playful banter, leaning back in his chair. "I'm sure he won't mind."

"You don't mind do you?" She tilted it toward her pouty lips. 

"You can pay me back some other time," Steve laughed loudly, but his eyes never left her lips and she could feel his knuckle drift back to the hem of her skirt, lifting it higher than before. "You'll be home all summer." He added. 

"It's gonna be so nice having my girl home!" Colin announced loudly, nearly spilling from his chair. 

"Dad," Regan lurched from her chair, worried about him. "I think the beer and the heat are getting to you!"

"Christ, you might be right," her dad laughed, shaking his head. "Game hasn't even started and I'm already out of it." 

"How many did you have before I got here?" 

Colin looked somewhat sheepish as he stood, swaying on his feet. There was a pink tint to his cheeks that she hadn't noticed before. Sending Steve a confused look, she watched Steve hold up four fingers just out of Colin's view and suppressed a laugh. 

"Okay, okay," Regan sighed, pushing up from the table. "C'mon, let's get you to bed."

"Alright, let's go. Steve, see ya." Colin waved his friend goodbye and they slowly made their way downstairs, her father hiccupping every second step.

She watched him get into his en suite bathroom after she picked up his pyjamas from the console across from the bed. 

"I'm fine, little one. I can take it from here. Don’t worry about me, your tipsy dad can handle a nap by himself. Go relax,” he said as he pulled the comforter over his body. He had no idea what that sentence made her feel and she prayed to high heavens that he didn't notice the way the blush crept into her cheeks. 

"Sleep well, pops. Thank you for taking me in." She whispered as her father closed his eyes. 

"Anything for you, twinkle-toes. I'm so glad I have you back here. I love you." And with that, he dozed off into sleep.

A small shiver ran through her body and the realization that she’d forgotten her cardigan on the roof washed over her. Regan fought with herself for a moment, telling herself that she could grab it in the morning, but the other side of her wanted to finish what she’d started with Steve.

Or at least what she thought had been started. 

Her body shook with anticipation at the delicious tension spreading through her body as she walked back out onto the rooftop and saw Steve sitting in one of the chairs, his legs spread apart, holding an ornate glass of dark liquid between his strong fingers. 

"Regan..." She heard him rasp as her feet transported her closer to him as if they have a mind of their own.

Regan stopped a few inches from his right knee, staring down at it, until Steve shifted. He sat forwards in his chair, jeans pulling tight against strong, thick thighs, and he balanced his glass against his left thigh, right one open and oh so enticing. 

“Wanna sit honey? Plenty of room,” Steve rumbled, lifting his glass and taking a sip of what had to be whiskey or maybe bourbon. Regan suddenly felt parched, dying for a taste. 

She glanced around, looking for her chair but it was pushed off to the side. She finally met Steve’s playful stare, the fingers of his right hand drawing her gaze away, back to his thighs. 

Before she could second guess herself, Regan took that last step forward and straddled Steve’s thigh, biting back a whimper at the feel of the strong muscles between her own soft thighs.

Steve leaned back on his chair, his jeans rubbing against Regan's underwear as he adjusted his legs. Goosebumps formed along her skin as warmth pooled between her legs while she settled herself on his thigh. 

He tilted his head upwards, meeting her gaze with a playful smirk. He trailed his index finger along her thigh, circling a freckle that lay just below the bunched up hem of her dress.

"Are you comfortable, Regan?" he purred.

"Umm..." She took a steadying breath, knowing that he could see she was flushed from her ears to her chest. Feeling Steve move his leg again made her gasp and reach to steady herself by holding onto one of his shoulders. Shit 

"What is it, princess? Something bothering you? Or is something feeling a little too good to ignore?"

Regan pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and turned her gaze towards the rooftop door. The slight fear of someone catching them, not just someone, but her dad, crept up into her mind. Even if he was drunk out of his mind and probably long passed out, he could stumble back up to the roof for something. It was too risky being so out in the open. 

As if he could tell where her mind went, Steve placed his fingertips gently on the side of her cheek and turned her gaze back to meet his, the blue of his eyes flickering in the low light from the city that surrounded them. 

"Eyes on me, beautiful," he whispered, moving his hand down to the side of her neck and tracing his thumb over her throat, "we're safe up here. It's just the two of us," he reassured, with his smirk returning, "now, answer my question, is something bothering you or are you done ignoring this?" 

He continued moving his leg underneath her, pulling small whines from her lips as she kept her eyes on him, trying to think of a way to answer him coherently.

“I don’t think I could ignore this if I tried.”

Steve’s breath rushed out of his chest at her confession. There was no time like the present to be honest, and there was no way in hell she was going to walk away from this as terrified as she was to get caught. Steve’s cheeks were dusted pink and he licked his lips. He leaned forward, dragging his lips along her jawline until they reached her ear. She shivered at the sensation of his beard brushing against her skin and bit back a whimper. 

“That makes two of us,” he rumbled. “Do you know how hard it’s been to stay away from you?”

Regan smiled and slid her hands beneath his t-shirt, fingernails just barely grazing his abs. Her hips instinctively rocked back and forth and she could feel herself getting wetter from the tension alone.

“Why don’t you show me?” She whispered.

He nibbled on her earlobe and she gasped.

“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, he pulled back and his hand slipped around the back of her neck, pulling her toward him. The second their lips crashed, Regan groaned, butterflies swarming her stomach as Steve’s other hand gripped her hip and began to rock her back and forth along his thigh as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

He took his time, feeling her out, whisky and barbecue and something uniquely him flooding her senses.

Steve’s tongue was heavy against hers, teeth catching harshly on her bottom lip before he soothed the sensitive skin with small kisses, almost too tender compared to the way he guided her over him. Steve grunted, rough and from deep in his chest as she writhed against him. 

With each rock of her hips, Regan felt his cock hardening beneath the denim, eliciting a gasp from her lips as he shifted beneath her. As glorious as the feeling of his rough jeans was, she was desperate for fewer layers and more skin.

Steve slipped a hand into the front of her bathing suit bottoms, his hot skin slipping between her folds with ease. "So ready," he groaned against her, using his hand to rock her faster, "feral for me. How long has it been since you've been touched, baby girl?" He asked. 

When she tried to answer nothing but a heavily broken whine dripped from her lips, her mouth propped open by his as he worked against her faster. "Such pretty noises the desperate whore makes, don't stop." He demanded, "ride my thigh until you're moaning my name and then I'll flip you over and give you something to really scream about."

She nearly collapsed against him but he held her in place as he pushed his thigh up against her forcibly over and over, his fingers guiding her pussy back and forth until she was an embarrassing, withering mess.

His other hand wrapped in her hair and pulled her mouth back to his, tongue and teeth crashing together as her legs started to shake. Steve's heated lips moved down her jaw, leaving wet kisses that made Regan's noises grow higher in pitch and more breathless as her head fell back. 

"Fuck me," Regan whined, embarrassed by how quickly she folded, but she felt like she was going to combust. "Please, I- I need more."

She felt his lips turn up in a grin and the throbbing in her cunt grew stronger. 

"We'll get there, darlin'," Steve murmured against her damp skin. "First I'm gonna have you come like this. Then you'll get my mouth..." 

Regan gasped as his thumb started to circle her clit and it nearly got her there, but his touch was too light, too soft for how he was speaking to her. He was teasing her and based on the twitching in his jeans, he really fucking liked it. 

"And then," Steve growled, pressing up harder against her, the friction burning her thighs raw. "if you're a good girl, I'll fuck you like one."

"But what if I'm not a good girl?" Regan asked in a playful innocence she knew damn well would rile him up. 

"Oh, Regan," he chuckled mischievously as he applied the slightest bit more pressure to her clit, her mind reeling and begging for release. "Then I'll fuck you like a good little slut," he rasped so close to her ear, his words vibrated through her body. 

Little by little he increased the pressure and speed until he was just right, a scream left her throat.

"Fuck, the noises you make. Fucking beautiful."

Regan panted, body slumping into Steve’s firm chest, feeling it move under her as he chuckled. 

“Don’t tell me you’re worn out already?” he teased, knuckles brushing under her chin and lifting her head until her blurry gaze met his sharp one. “Can’t very well make good on my words if you’re already fading.”

Regan shook herself, blinking rapidly before sitting up straight, fisting Steve’s long hair in one hand, crushing their lips together again. 

“I can handle anything you’ve got for me Captain,” she murmured against his lips and he bit down sharply on her bottom one, a yelp escaping her as he pulled it away from her, sucking it into his mouth and letting it go with a pop. 

“On the patio table now, Regan,” he growled, hands going to her hips and lifting her up onto her feet.

Regan bit her lip, her heart hammering against her ribcage in anticipation. Steve's lips found her purchase on her neck leaving a trail of nips and kisses along the way as he walked her towards the table, his fingers digging into her hips. 

He pushed her against it, the feel of cold metal against her thin dress doing nothing to quench the heat surrounding her. Dragging his wet warm lips back up to her lips, he slipped his hands down to her thighs picking her up and sitting her on the table. 

"Eager there, Rogers?" Regan laughed against his lips. Her teasing was quickly cut by a gasp when she felt his long, rough fingers wrap around her neck. 

"That's Captain to you," he growled against her lips.

She giggled before gasping as he bit her bottom lip hard enough to cause a bit of pain. Regan pulled away from him with narrowed eyes. "What was that for?"

Steve gave her a hard stare before his face softened slightly. "Sorry," he murmured. He gently rested his hand on the back of her neck before placing a gentle kiss on her now painful bottom lip. "No more lip," he murmured. His demeanor changed again as he pulled her to the edge of the table and ran his hands up her dress to rest on her thighs. "Now... will you let your Captain have a taste? Because dessert sounds rather nice."

She nodded and Steve grinned.

“Good,” he whispered, pushing her thighs apart while dropping to his knees. The only thing she could see in the dying sunlight were those eyes digging into her fucking soul. Flames licked her belly, shooting through every muscle in her body as Steve took his fucking time sliding his calloused hands up and down her thighs. 

“Now, spread your legs for me. I want ‘em nice and wide, sugar. And you stay like that, is that clear?”

“Yes, Captain,” she purred.

A growl sprung from his throat and she could see that he was struggling to keep control, kissing his way up and down each thigh. Trying to make the most of every moment. Regan’s breath caught in her chest as he worked his way higher and higher to her dripping cunt. He lifted his head and slowly began to slide two fingers inside of her.

“You keep calling me that and the whole goddamn city’s gonna hear you begging me to fuck you.”

Regan’s retort was cut off by the sensation of Steve’s tongue slowly dragging along her clit as he pushed his fingers in deeper. Her head fell back and she bit down on her knuckles, letting out a muffled groan.

He worked at her relentlessly, the patio table beneath her practically rocking as she lifted her hips from the table to press herself against his face. She wanted to ride herself free of the second orgasm against his nose while his tongue flicked at her core and his fingers curled inside of her reaching all the tender sweet spots. 

"Wait for it," he growled, pushing her back down against the table. His hand slid from her hips and bit into the underside of her ass roughly, causing her to whimper from the pain. She hadn't expected to enjoy it so much but each rough touch sent a thousand tiny shockwaves rolling through her only making her crave more. 

He was daring her to misbehave, she wanted to feel the crack of his hand against her ass, feel the sting of his fingers around her nipples and the sharp bite of his teeth on her thighs. She wanted more than ever before. She wiggled down against him, his beard rubbing against her inner thighs as his tongue pressed against her already stuffed pussy. 

"I want more," she begged and without hesitation, he obliged but not without consequence. He rolled her hips to the side, so her leg was hooked over his shoulder pressed tightly against his cheek and rubbed the soft skin of her ass before laying into her. 

"I told you to wait," he warned.

With a whimper, Regan wriggled in his grasp, chasing the feeling of his lips against her body again. This time his hand gripped her ass even harder,  surely leaving purple marks on the creamy colored skin. In a blink, Steve rose up, gripping her chin tightly. Her lips parted as his calloused palm held her in place and Steve smirked at the dazed look in her eye. 

"Be. Good. Regan," he murmured before capturing her lips again, leaving a salty taste on her tongue. 

She nodded breathlessly, licking the dampness from her lips as he got back onto his knees, blue eyes blown dark in the lavender twilight. 

"So fucked out, already, my girl can't even talk," Steve murmured against her thigh before his lips wrapped around her clit and pulled harshly before releasing it as she cried out. "You might not make it through me fucking you."

"I can, please," Regan begged him. Her voice came out a strangled whimper.

"So eager,” he growled, “I'm gonna fuck you so hard I might have to replace the patio table," his hand darted out and wrapped around her chin so she was captivated by his eyes.

"I want you to be good and use your words, sugar."

Regan bit back a whine and wrapped her hand around Steve’s wrist, pulling his hand from her face, and guiding it back to her dripping cunt. 

“C’mon Captain,” she grinned, determined to take back some power despite her mouth falling open in a gasp as his fingers entered her again. “You want me to be good? Make me.”

Steve’s fingers immediately crooked against her spot, his thumb pressing down on her clit, rubbing back and forth until her thighs were shaking and her nails were digging into his skin. 

“Fuck!” Regan shouted, waves of orgasm crashing over her. Before she could even come down, Steve was moving, slipping his fingers from her and flipping her over onto her stomach. He trailed them over her ass, slapping it lightly, then harder when she moaned. 

“That’s my good little slut,” he whispered in her ear, bent over her back.

Steve's words flowed over her, making her shiver. If it were anyone else, she was sure she would whip around and slap them. But being Steve... something was different. Regen whimpered as she felt Steve pull apart her bikini bottoms, letting them fall to the concrete at their feet. "Steve... please." 

She looked over her shoulder, watching as he stared down at her before she noticed his arm moving. Her eyes drifted down only to widen at the size of Steve's weeping cock. Oh my god.

Regan couldn't stop the whimper as it left her throat, and she felt her cunt clench around nothing in anticipation. Every thought in her mind melted away, all the fear she'd felt about getting caught was gone. She just wanted him. She needed him. And by the cocky smirk that was painted on his lips, he knew it too. 

Steve stepped forward and positioned himself, his hard cock pressed into her folds, teasing her more with each slight movement. 

"That's it Regan, beg me," he rasped, gripping the skin of her hip with one hand and moving the other slowly up her spine to tangle in her blonde waves, pulling softly. 

She whined again, biting the inside of her cheek, "Please Steve... please," she pushed her hips back into him, pulling a growl from deep in his chest. 

He brought his hand back and slapped it once more on her ass, "try again, sweetheart," 

"Please fuck me, Steve, please," she breathed, relishing in the stinging pain of her ass as he rubbed the sore spot, "I need you inside of me, please fuck me"

He teased her entrance with the tips of his fingers. He didn’t push them inside of her, but she could feel him working her clit, teasing it ever so slowly as he leaned over.

“You can do better than that,” he urged. “You want me to fuck you like a little whore? Then you beg me like one.”

“Fuck you!” She cried out. “You’re such an asshole.”

This wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what he was going to get. She was so desperate, that every muscle in her body was shaking. Steve smacked her ass one more time and she bit down on the inside of her cheek, swallowing a grunt as her clit throbbed.

“Do you need to be shown how to behave?” He growled. Very slowly, he removed his fingers and dragged the tip of his cock through her folds. “Because I can do that for you, angel.” 

Regan’s eyes rolled back and she let out a sound that she didn’t even know she could make— broken and jagged. Steve placed his hand at the base of her throat and his lips curled into a wicked grin. Regan found her composure, drawing in a breath as he began to rub the tip of his cock against her swollen clit.

“Fuck me, Steve. I’ve been such a good girl for you, haven’t I?”

He chuckled, capturing her lips in a rough and messy kiss before pulling back.

“You’ve been anything but that.”

"I'll be a good little whore, I promise," she cried out, every inch of her aching for him. She could feel him running his rock hard length from her ass to her clit, over and over without remorse. Only a soft chuckle fell from his lips as she begged him for all of it. "Please Captain, fill me to the brim, I can't take it anymore. I'm begging you, I'll do anything."

"You say that like I doubted you," he whispered, the hand around her throat tightened gently against her skin and his hand ran down the sweat licked center of her back. He kicked her feet apart, spreading her wide and exposing her to him completely. She felt raw and on display as he rocked himself into her without warning. She wasn't prepared for his size, stinging pleasure rolling through her as he stretched every inch of her sore cunt, pushing her to her limits. The pain vibrated down through her toes as she pushed up onto them and fell into the hold around her throat. 

"I can't-" she pleaded, feeling the hand that rolled around her ass, he was playing at it. Waiting for her pleas but she could feel him wanting more as he dragged himself from her clenching, dripping cunt slower than her body could process the size. "Steve," she panted, unable to finish her sentence as his balls slapped against her throbbing clit and he filled her again. 

"You can't what?" He growled, his thumb brushing against her entrance. When she didn't answer him he slapped his hand across her ass, the sound ringing through the air alongside her strangled gasp. "Answer me."

Regan felt tears well up in her eyes, frustratingly turned on to the point that she couldn't even begin. His fingers tightened around her throat as another slap echoed across the rooftop, sending spots across her vision. 

"You aren't a very good listener, are you? That's okay, I'll teach you." 

"Please, please, please," she sputtered. "I can't take...fuck, Steve!" 

This was what she needed, maybe a part of the reason she came back. Someone to break her and put all those pieces back together. A tear fell down her face and Steve's thumb turned her cheek towards him, his wicked grin appearing in the corner of her vision over her shoulder. 

"Cry for me a little more and I might go easy on you."

Regan’s eyes rolled back into her skull as a shudder travelled through her body. She heard Steve curse and suddenly he was pressing against her entrance again. 

“You have no fucking idea how you look do you?” Steve started pushing in, slowly, Regan moaning loudly as she was stretched again. “No idea how you look with that fucking body moving, caught up in pleasure, thinking of nothing but me. I’ll fuck you, pretty girl, I’ll fuck you until you’re begging me to let you come until you’re crying harder than this little display.” 

Regan couldn’t catch her breath, between the tears and the way Steve had started fucking into her, punching the air out of her chest until she was nearly screaming. 

A big hand came up to cover her open mouth, covering half her face with its width. “Shh, Regan, the whole neighborhood didn’t hear you yet,” Steve whispered into her ear, biting down on the lobe before sucking on it, hips pounding her into the suddenly creaking table.

She whimpered into his hand, her whole body shaking under his.  She was desperate to feel more of him. Even inside of her he still wasn't close enough, there was too much fabric between them. Regan wanted to feel his taut chest against her back, feel the way his muscles flexed as he relentlessly drove into her. 

Steve dragged his hand back from her mouth slowly, and as if they shared the same need his fingers worked the knot at the back of her neck the thin strands of her dress falling onto the table. His movements didn't falter as he pulled down roughly on the fabric causing the table to shake along with her.

"The... the table," she moaned, trying to do her best to help Steve remove her dress from her body. The table creaked loudly beneath them. Loud enough for her to wonder if they were both going to topple to the ground. The thought was fleeting though as Steve increased his pace, driving himself into her body. "Steve..."

"Steve!" His name came out as a louder sob than she'd meant it to, but it caught his attention just in time. 

The table once more groaned loudly as the legs finally gave way, crashing the old metal table to the ground. Steve's arm linked around Regan's waist and caught her before either of them fell, stepping forward, his cock slipped out of her and he spun her into his chest. 

The world felt like it was spinning for a moment as her fingers curled into the metal dog tags that hung around his neck. He helped her stand and catch her balance as his now dark blue eyes flitted over her features, concern sparking over his face. 

"Are you okay?" he rasped, cupping her cheek in his hand and gripping her waist with the other. 

Regan nodded and breathed deeply, keeping her gaze locked on him, "I'm okay," she repeated, the coolness of the dog tags bringing a new feeling into her otherwise warm body. 

"Good," he growled, scooping his arms under her legs and making his way over to the chair she'd found him in earlier, "cause I'm not finished with you yet"

Her laughter echoed through the air and Steve sat down on it, letting Regan shift her body so that she could straddle him. She looked back at the mess that they’d left behind and giggled.

“How are you gonna explain that?”

“Communal rooftop, drunk teenagers,” he replied, cradling her face with both hands. The pad of his thumb slid along her bottom lip as he searched her eyes. His expression was tender and vulnerable, and it made her heart skip a few beats. This guy could turn on a dime. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded and Steve kissed her, so sweetly that she wanted to cry. Her arms snaked around the back of his neck, playing with his hair and running her fingers through it. She’d always thought about it, it looked so soft. Steve groaned as the kiss deepened and Regan decided to take the reins, easing herself back down onto his cock. Her eyes squeezed shut as he filled her to the brim. Regan felt tears sticking to her lashes as her cheeks flamed. 

The whimper that left Steve's lips was addicting, and she began to rock her hips, taking control. There was something about him that made her feel insanely confident. She pulled back, bouncing on top of him as his head fell back.

“Fuck, Regan.”

“Atta boy,” she whispered. “How long have you been thinking about fucking me?”

He laughed, his chest heaving as she fucked him and he tried to swallow his groans. Regan grabbed his dog tags and pulled on them, forcing him to meet her eye while she took him as deep as she could. His eyes widened as Regan leaned in and flicked his bottom lip with her tongue.

“I asked you a question, Captain. I expect an answer.”

His hands ran down her back, his fingers tickling the bare skin down to the swell of her ass. He cupped her more gently than she would have liked but he helped lift her up and down his shaft, pushing the speed at which they moved together. His breath trembled from his lips as he opened his mouth to speak as Regan pulled herself to the tip of his expanding erection. She revelled in the pressure it built, she found sick, needy pleasure in how it drove him nuts to be out of control. 

His hands tightened around her skin, pulling her ass into his palms as he fought his hungry urges. "I've wanted a taste of your weeping pussy the first time you bent over in those tiny jean shorts you wore around last summer." He nipped at her collarbone. "Tell me," he begged breathlessly, still gripping her tightly, "tell me you wanted it too."

She giggled, it dripped from her lips. She had visited her dad for a week and she could feel Steve's eyes watching her even then. She had dug those shorts from the back of her closet, barely squeezing her ass into them before parading around in the apartment. The tip of his dick rolled against her entrance, stretching her wider as he tried to pull her back over him. "I enjoyed watching you squirm," she whispered, "how often do you think about those shorts?" She asked, needing to know the answer. 

"As often as I think about your pert little tits in my mouth," he dragged his teeth against her, "more when I dreamed about how good your pussy would feel wrapped around me."

Regan gasped, high and loud as he sucked her nipple into his mouth, biting down and pulling until she cried out before letting go. Her breast stung, pain spreading through it but she relished in it, digging her hands into his hair and pulling. Steve's head fell back, their eyes meeting, and Regan pressed their foreheads together, lips meeting in an open-mouthed, gasping kiss. 

"Gonna make me come again, Captain?" she asked breathlessly, rising and falling quickly on his dick. Steve gripped her hips tight enough that her skin was darkening before their eyes but she didn't care, she wanted more. "C'mon Cap, I'm waiting."

Steve snarled and his hips jumped up, pumping into her hard, the chair groaning beneath them but somehow holding together as he fucked up into her. "Gonna make you come so hard you can't even say your name, Regan," he growled, and she hiccuped, tears forming in her eyes from the intense pleasure gathering at the base of her spine. 

"Please- Steve I-" 

"No, you don't say anything unless you need to stop," Steve grunted, nearly lifting out of the chair as he fucked her.

Regan's face fell forward and she took her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down almost to the point of drawing blood holding back her cries. 

She closed her fists on Steve's shirt pulling at the sweat ridden fabric. Her fingers ached to feel his hot skin. 

Steve dragged a finger up her chest, the soft graze making her hiss at the contact. He grabbed onto her chin forcing her to look back at him as he pounded into her. 

He pulled at her bottom lip with his thumb, "You're taking me so well, sweet girl." 

Regan cried out, her hands pulling even tighter on his thin t-shirt. Steve leaned forward hovering his lips over hers, "Rip it off, Regan," he breathed.

She grinned and licked her lips. Regan didn't have to be told twice. She pulled hard at his shirt, hearing the cotton tear between her fingers. Regan instantly let go of the fabric and ran both hands along his chest, enjoying the feeling of his muscles against her hands. "I've been wanting to do that since I saw you in the elevator," she admitted. 

Steve chuckled as he halted his movements for a moment and sat up to fully remove his shirt and toss it to the ground before capturing her lips in a searing kiss, devouring her mouth with his. He moaned into her mouth, when she began rocking back and forth against his pelvis once more. Regan was getting so close. Steve pulled back from the kiss and smiled at her. 

"Come on baby, ride me. Hard and fast."

As Regan began bouncing faster, clenching her dripping cunt around him, their sounds echoed out into the New York sky. All their cares about who might hear them disappeared. The only thing that mattered was them, at that moment, taking everything they could from each other. 

The fire deep in her belly grew with every thrust and she knew she wasn't going to last much longer with the soft praises that dripped from Steve's lips. 

“Doing so good for me, darlin’,” he moaned. "Taking every inch just like I knew you would."

All she could feel was heat in her belly, her toes curling and tingling each time their hips met. Their moans reached a crescendo and her fingernails raked down his chest as Steve’s hand came to rest at the base of her throat again. Regan’s lips parted and she grinned, reaching up to cover his hand with her own.

“More,” she whispered, pressing down on his fingers.

Steve grinned.

“You filthy little slut,” he growled as he pressed on the sides of her throat just enough to make her dizzy. 

Regan rode him harder and faster, butterflies exploding in her belly and the knot that had been getting tighter and tighter as he hit her g-spot finally snapped. She cried out, wildfire spreading all through her belly and down her legs. Her muscles quivered and Steve released her throat, letting her bury her head in his shoulder as wave after wave of her climax washed over her. He stroked her back and let her slow down for a moment. 

“Good girl."

The sound of his husky voice praising her made the wetness between her legs grow even as she drenched his cock and spiraled down from her high. She wanted him to call her all the sweet things all the time, especially if he was praising her for taking him so well. She wanted to feel every inch of him every second of every waking moment and she was quickly granted that wish as he began to pump again chasing the high he hadn't caught. 

She leaned into him, offering herself to him like a prize to be won and he took it without mercy. He slipped her off him, lifting her effortlessly from his cock and setting her on her feet. "Prove to me how good you can be," he whispered, reminding her of all the dirty, shameful things she had promised him. She sank to her knees before him as he slid forward and presented his hefty length to her. 

His cock had seemed impossibly large, crammed inside of her but as she popped her lips over the tip and sunk down on him she realized how wrong she had been. His hand wrapped into her hair, pulling her down against him until his tip pressed against the back of her throat and tears stung at her eyes. "That's my girl," he whispered, his free hand twisting her sore and sensitive nipple between his fingers. "My sweet little desperate whore, so willing to do as she's told."

She pumped her mouth around him, pushing her tongue against the base of his shaft until he was making sweet noises for her. The grip in her hair tightened and she loosened her throat, welcoming the tantalizing taste of her own pussy mixed with the sweat and need of him down. He pumped twice more, shooting his release down her throat without remorse as he rubbed his thumb across her face and cleared the tears from her eyes. 

She pulled away from his cock, licking up from the base to clean him completely and rose from her knees. Standing over him, covered in sweat and bruises, her ass stung from his playful abuse and her cunt clenched sore and sex abused as he drank her in with a sex drunk devilish look on his face. His pupils blown and the strands of his long hair messy and ready to be tugged on, she licked her lips chasing the taste of him as his cock fell against his stomach and he held out his arms to her. 

"Pretty girl, you look even better covered in my hand prints."

This time his hands were soft as he brushed her equally messy hair from her face, wiping the remnants of sweat from her upper lip. Regan felt like she was outside of her body. She couldn’t help but giggle, biting her lip when Steve laughed. 

“What are you laughin’ at, sweetheart?” He asked softly, the rasp still sending shivers down her spine. “You’re gonna hurt my feelings.” 

“We ruined this rooftop for everyone,” she shook her head and started laughing even harder. “You broke a fucking table, Steve!” 

Steve buried his damp head into her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist, Regan forced herself to reach up on her tiptoes to alleviate his hunched position. Chuckles shook her body as his breath cooled her overheated skin. 

After a few moments, they came down from the high they created in this not so-secluded location. Earlier on, Regan was worried that she would have regrets afterwards, but that was the furthest thing from her mind. 

She watched Steve button his jeans and outstretch his hand, the cornflower blue dress clutched in it. Smiling up through her lashes, she practically vibrated with the feeling of a new adventure in her future. Being with this man was certainly going to be a wild ride. 

As if reading her mind, Steve spoke up as his head popped through the neck of his tattered t-shirt. 

“So…are we gonna do this again?” 

The sweet questioning tone made Regan’s heart flutter, so much so that she crossed the few steps to him. Placing a soft kiss on his slightly chapped lips, she sighed into him and enjoyed the warmth. Heartbeats went by until he tilted her head back and she smiled at his raised eyebrow and stern expression. 

“Hell yeah, Cap.” 

Steve’s eyes grew heavy as his hand drifted up to fix the neckline of her dress and he bent down to whisper in her ear. His words made a shock of excitement run straight to between her legs, already wanting him again despite the bruises and aches. 

“Then I better see you in those shorts tomorrow.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers x oc #mordern steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel au #marvel one shot #marvel oneshot #marvel imagine #marvel fic #modern au #age gap romance #dbf steve rogers #dads best friend #one shot #fluff #marvelous

[tiredstressedemotionalmess]

hihii do you have ideas for writing the fab four as ghosts? also what do you think halloween would be like in the zones? i'm attempting to write fanfiction for like the first time ever and you're basically the killjoys fanfiction mutual so i'm coming to you lol

i am absolutely honored to be considered the killjoys fanfiction mutual!! sorry this took forever to get to ive been battling a headache all day 😅

the fab four as ghosts is an interesting concept that ive never really thought about before!!! i mean i wrote one fic once kind of abt party as a ghost but that wasnt really the main focus.. anyways, there's a tooooon of super cool ways to explore that concept just in how they died alone. like is this a post sing thing where they all died together saving the girl? if thats the case i could easily see them following her around over the years, using what limited connection to the physical world they have to influence minor things and keep her safe as she grows up alone in the desert. or maybe (bc im a sucker for ghosts who dont remember their mortal lives) they have no memory of the girl or each other but they all decide to stick together bc they're scared and confused and There and they just kind of wander around together until they stumble upon the girl and they feel this strange pull to Protect Her

or if it's not post sing and they've all died in different ways, maybe this is an au and they meet as ghosts and they become known as this phantom crew, legends that wander the zones and take out dracs in the dead of night, only to be seen by those already well aquatinted with death

as for individual behaviors, i think taking the name fun ghoul literally would be really fucking cool. im pretty sure the general consensus abt ghouls is that they haunt graveyards so maybe ghoul specifically hangs around grounds where lots of death occurs, like common grounds for bli ambushes and firefights and shit. it's absolutely br the most annoying ghost ever, going out of his way to spook people by doing alll the classic horror movie shit. that motherfucker is howling and making weird noises in the dead of night, he is levitating objects and moving shit that shouldn't move and flickering lights and just being a general menace to the living

i think party would take a LONG time to accept the fact that they're dead, if they ever even admit it to themself at all. i feel like they have this sort of bitter, jaded relationship with death and the witch and the whole concept of the afterlife, and admitting that they're a ghost would be admitting that all the shit they weren't sure if they believed in was real the while time. and too, depending on how they died, i could easily see them having a sort of bitter breakdown over the fact that they've just been allowed to die with no fanfare. they've literally given their life for this cause and now that theyre dead and nothings changed or is changing it feels like they lived their whole life for nothing, like they lived their whole life wrong almost.

jet and kobra im having less immediate thoughts on. out of all of them, though, i think jet would be the most likely to try and find a way back to life. idk if youve read ttid but uh. yeah. i see her a bit like that, where she refuses to accept that this is the end of her story and she tries whatever she can to make it continue

kobra as a ghost i think would change a lot depending on how he died. if it was something out if his control like illness or a bad run on the crash track i think hed be more "go with the flow it is what it is" about it. if he was killed though he would dedicate his afterlife to revenge, and maybe actually no matter how he died hed end up becoming vengeful after long enough bc hed star thinking about why he was even put under the circumstances to die in the desert and hed think about his hatred for bli... yeah actually no matter what i think hed become a vengeful spirit!! hed go and hun down whoever killed him and make them fucking suffer, and then hed go and do the same for every drac and ever crow, every exterminator he can get his hands on. his mortal life was horrible and he is going to spend his afterlife making sure the ones responsible for his suffering get what they fucking deserve

uhhhh this has turned out wayyy longer than i meant it to so im gonna make the Halloween in the zones part its own post and I'll tag you in that when its done!! i hope at least some part of this was helpful or inspiring in a way, cant wait to see what you end up writing :]

#asks #danger days #my headcanons #danger days headcanons #danger days the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #fun ghoul #the kobra kid #party poison #jet star #ddttlotfk #ttlotfk

[mcrredacteddeadove]

au where bl/ink sells porno puppies in vending machines who are basically just a different type of draculoid except with a puppy mask. and i’m a former killjoy who was made into one because the draculoids deemed my body suitable by however they did it. and for party’s birthday ghoul bought me for him and the entire group of killjoys (excluding the girl ofc this is before the girl). being turned into the killjoys fuckpuppy who’s always desperate for their cocks. my mind so corrupted by bli that i can’t think of anything else. also hi again 📼 anon!!!!! -⛄️

<3

#ghoul #party #kobra #jet #⛄️ anon #co signed

[olgalenski]

Anjas Magdeburg rewatch - eine mörderische Idee

so letzte Magdeburg Folge vor Wendemanöver ich weiß nichts mehr xD

ich glaube ich erinnere mich vage

yoooooooo

ok ihr gehts nich so gut. handy is in der waschmaschine

oh jaaa ich erinnere mich ganz

diese riva supermärkte sind einfach eigentlich edekas xD

hey lemp was los mit dir

"schön dass du wieder da bist" wer ist sie? also die rechtsmedizinerin aber hab ich schon wieder wichtige Dinge vergessen?

dedum

bli bla blubb xD das sag ich auch immer. wieso is mautz eig nich mehr dabei?

oh yeah drexler hats verstanden

so kurz mal 2 stunden pause um mama zu helfen weiter gehts

spielen die da einfach auf unirechnern videospiele?

hat er ihr einfach ein neues altes handy geschenkt

steckst du den stick von dem ihr wisst, dass dieser throjaner drauf ist, grad an deinen arbeitspc? wow

hmm die folge geht noch ne halbe stunde er wirds nicht gewesen sein

sag ihm das doch nich girl

ja deswegen hättest dus ihm nich sagen sollen

wieso kam sie jetzt plötzlich aus der anderen richtugn?

ich hab immer noch nich verstanden wieso ihr handy am anfang in der waaschmaschine war aber gut. jetzt hat sie n neues neues^^

#polizeiruf 110 #polizeiruf magdeburg #anjas magdeburg rewatch

[reilivec]

Transformers Au Part 5

We ended up spending the night at Juan's and to our surprise it was quiet. Jazz agreed to act as my car and guard. The plan was that during the school and work he would try and find the other autobots where abouts. That got dashed the instant we pulled into the parking lot. The large parking lot was for both teachers and students. There is also a spot designated for a resource officer but today is the first day I have seen a car in that spot. Jazz slowed down, the radio stopped playing music, "That smells like the Decepticon from yesterday, but the scent is faint almost like he isn't there anymore. Weird. " I look down at the radio and snapped back, "What do you mean weird?" The radio quickly changed between station with the letters I D K appearing on the digital screen.

I parked as close to the door as I could and as I walked towards the door I felt a pull to look closer at the resource officer's car. As I walked towards it I didn't notice any changes in how I felt but I noticed that where it usually says, "To protect and to serve, " instead it says, "to punish and enslave." I couldn't hide my disgust and as I looked at the inside of the car I notice that the dash looked empty. There wasn't an odometer or radio there were gapping hole where they were supposed to be. Someone slapped my shoulder, a girl laughed, "What? Checking out the ride your going to be leaving in?" She sneered laughing with as she turned to her entourage.

I walked into the school and noticed the resource officer was talking to the principal in the hall. As I got closer I noticed a pull and as that happened the resource officer turned his head in my direction. I panicked looking at the ground and speeding up my pace. I could feel his eyes as I rushed down the hall. I spent the rest of the day trying to dodge the officer. The worst part was that he kept showing up outside my classes. When the final bell rang as I tried to bolt past he grabbed my left arm tightly and yanked me towards him with an inhuman strength. My arm immediately started getting hot and my head started spinning as he started dragging me towards the office. I could tell he was talking but I couldn't hear. By the time I was in the physical office I was about to black out and the last thing I remember was being tossed into one of the many chairs lining the walls.

Pain, my arms hurt and I hear metal hitting metal. I look towards the sound and see Jazz with twin pistols. There was a much larger transformer who attempted to shoot him but Jazz was far too nimble. I scrambled to my feet and started looking for places to hide. There was culvert near the school that was usually full of the worst students but right now I needed to get away. I ran down the embankment I could hear people laughing and I finally dashed inside finding beers all over and five of my classmates hanging on each other. One of the girl, Grace I think, looked up at me with horror in her eyes. They were all on there feet within second of me entering. There was a lot of cursing but Grace was the one who was actually helpful. She asked me, "OMG, are you okay, you look like you were thrown from a car." There was a loud slam above us making dust rain down on us. They realized what was happening and sobered up in seconds.

I was about to start talking when both Jazz and the Decepticon tumbled directly in front of the culvert. Everyone started screaming and everything went quiet as someone took over my body. My posture straightened and I turned towards the exit and reached out both hands. My stance widened and the blue energy poured out of my hands creating a see through blue wall and seconds after it was up an explosion hit the wall. As I stood there, becoming a wall all of my own I heard a voice, "Barricade, enough now isn't the time." My hair on my arms were standing up. The Decepticon punched Jazz one more time before climbing up the embankment and leaving with its tires screeching all the way out. I blinked a few times regaining control of my body the wall dissipating after a few seconds. I look back to see everyone holding each other and one guy recording on his phone. "Hey," I looked at the guy recording, "for your own safety I would delete that video and forget what you saw." He nodded before putting his phone in his pocket.

#oc #transformers #au #original story

[peachchanvidel]

Gender roles are a LIE

Kantoph AU - Lin and Tenzin's wedding.

Kanto: "Toph, our little girl is so pretty...!"

Toph leans into him: "If you say so. She seems happy enough, so I'm good."

Kanto looks down to Toph, his eyes start to water: "Wait, right, you can't see her. No. No no no. That's not fair. You can't see how pretty she is!"

Toph: "Yeah yeah yeah, you know, I'm used to it, remember. Hotshot, did you really forget I'm blind...."

Kanto: "But... it's not faiiiiii~r...."

Toph: "Oh dear... you know... you can describe all the details later. Like you always show me flowers?"

Kanto stops sobbing and looks at Toph with the most serious expression he can muster right now: "....I can try to, but just so you know: There are no words to describe her."

Toph huffs and calls over to Lin: "You hear that badgermole?"

Lin and Tenzin walk over to Kanto and Toph.

Lin: "What's going on...?"

Kanto hugs Lin: "You are so pretty, and your mother can't even see it..."

Lin pats his back and looks to Toph: "Mom...?"

Toph shrugs and grins: "Let him have his 5 minutes, he'll get over it. It's kind of adorable..."

Lin looks over to Tenzin: "Please tell me you won't be like that when our kids marry."

Tenzin: "Yeah well, you are not bli-... wait. Our kids?"

Now Tenzin starts tearing up.

Lin: "Oh no! Not you, too!"

Toph: "I always told you: Gender roles are A LIE. The men cry so much more."

Lin has now Kanto on one shoulder and Tenzin on the other: "At least ours..."

Toph and Lin grin at each other.

#Linzin #Kantoph #Lin Beifong #Toph Beifong #Tenzin #Kanto #dumb shower thoughts at 6 a.m. #Comic concept?

[redfish-blu]

Hi !!! I just stumbled onto your blog!! What's your Danger Days au about, I thought the art looks so cool so far for it!!!!!

Hi hello yes, I’m not going to lie I literally came up with that au two days ago so my thoughts are Very jumbled and rudimentary still but the general idea would go like this:

- Relevant characters would be The Girl, The Director, Kobra, Cherri Cola, Dr. D, and the rest of the Four obviously but mainly those first ones.

- The killjoys fail to save The Girl when she’s six and captured by BLi, none of them die in this universe so they have to leave her there. I’m not sure if they assume she’s dead or what, but certainly it’s accepted that they won’t see her again.

- During the 12 years between the music videos and the comics The Girl is raised by BLi in this sort of Black Widow program thing. Maybe isolated from other people? She definitely undergoes a lot of brainwash-y manipulation stuff to warp her memories of what happened to her with the killjoys. She remembers being with them but thinks she was a prisoner basically. I think it’s important that BLi doesn’t try to wipe her memory entirely, they want her to remember what being a kj was like and who the Four are.

- This au would dive pretty deep into my own headcanons about how the Danger Days universe works. It would be extremely uncannon and campy and a total psychological horror story. Instead of being about the Zones it’d be about BLi and the characters connections to it rather than how they’ve separated themselves from it, bc in this au that tether is very much still there.

- We’d focus a Lot on Kobra and The Girl as two sides of the same coin. Imagine how in Stranger Things S4 Eleven and Vecna were used to show both their stories from one another’s povs. It would be something like that. I’ll just say that the inclusion of Kobra in that last art rather than another character is very intentional!!

- I don’t want to go on a long winded rant about the preternatural sci-fi fuckery that would be ALL OVER this story so just trust that it is a key element. I’d explain that in a separate post because it’s way to long. But this au would see that sci-fi fuckery in a completely different light than a normal timeline would. Instead of being a positive force it would be negative, sometimes outright dangerous.

- Not sure on an ending. I want to say BLi dies but I really don’t know. The characters arcs would be so complicated, I don’t know if it would make sense for everyone to just be fine in the end. I have not gotten that far anyways. I’m still on the fun parts right now.

#this looks like it makes no sense #tldr; the failed lab experiment and the successful lab experiment ultimate show down of childhood trauma #danger days #ttlotfk #killjoys #asks

[oreosmama]

Across the Hall (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Across the hall lived Oikawa, a smug womanizer who never knew how to confront his one-night stands after their five minutes of fame. To avoid confrontation, he repeatedly seeks refuge in your apartment, or in his case, in your bed. But what happens when you start to grow feelings for this amorous neighbor of yours?

A/N: (It’s not five am! Yay me!) This is an au prompt called “You live across the hall and you hide in my apartment when you want to avoid your one-night stands” I got from this list. My god, I wanted this to be so much better than it actually was. If even a single person likes this, I will be eternally grateful. I sincerely hope you guys like this one! 

Word count: 5678

        Your apartment complex was filled with… a different kind of people. The tenants below you, one ginger and one blunet, bickered like no other. Meanwhile, the renters above you, one with a buzzcut and one with black hair and a bleached tuft, constantly watched and fawned over Next Top Model. It was all weird, but the most curious one of all was the man who lived across from you. 

        He was a womanizer with no sense of personal space, and constantly holed up in your apartment to wait out his one-night stands. Over the months, you two became friends, and while you repeatedly offered to let him hide and rest in your spare bedroom, he never seemed to appreciate the offer. Instead, he had a tenacious habit of crawling into your bed space and wrapping his arms around you with the claim that he couldn’t sleep without cuddling something. No matter how many pillows you chucked at him, you seemed to be his most favorite teddy bear.

        Tonight was no different, and your heart fluttered when he pulled you tighter into his chest. He had woken you up instantly, and he was lucky that you were too tired to be pissed off by the act. 

        “Oikawa,” you mumble lazily, rubbing the tiredness away from your eyes, “you know I only gave you that key for emergencies, right?”

        “But this is an emergency, YN. The girls never leave unless I’m not there when they wake up.”

        “Then maybe you should stop hooking up with random women.”

        “I don’t see the issue.”

        “Mhm,” you hum, rolling over in his embrace and yawning in his face. He gags at the smell and you smirk. “You know there’s a perfectly good couch for you to sleep on, right?”

        “It’s extremely uncomfortable, I can’t stand that thing. I don’t know why you bought it.”

        “Okay, then what about my spare room?” 

        “I’ve slept in there too! And trust me, nothing is more comfortable than this bed right-” Oikawa’s ranting is cut off by a frantic knock on your door. With a sigh, you nod your head towards the hall of your apartment and raise a brow. 

        “Is that tonight’s expedition?” He gives you a bashful smile.

        “Possibly.” Rolling your eyes, you scramble out of your bed and trudge out of your room. The banging is about to rip your door right off its hinges. As it shivers from the force, Oikawa trails timidly behind you and peeks over your shoulder at the sight. 

        “What, did you bang a pro-wrestler or something?” You’re judging him so hard right now. 

        “Ugh, YN. So unfeminine. I don’t ‘bang,’ I make love.” 

        “To a rhino?” You watch with wide eyes as your front door trembles before approaching it slowly. 

        “Maybe.” Oikawa opts to cower behind the island in your kitchen, which is adjacent to the entrance of your apartment and in a perfect position for him to not be spotted. 

        “Wonderful,” you mutter, hesitantly placing a hand on the knob and opening the barricade to the beast. “Can I help you?” you ask, plastering on a fake smile.

        Your neighbor’s one-night stand looks like she just stepped out of a magazine. With wavy blonde hair and long, tan legs, she seemed like the type to squash men under her designer stilettos and not bat an eye. Exactly his type.

        “Yes, I’m looking for my… boyfriend Tooru,” she glances inside your apartment suspiciously, getting a little too close for comfort. “Have you seen him?”

        “Umm, nope. Haven’t seen him.” You boredly blink at her and keep a hand on the door just in case she tries to barge inside. 

        “Well, if you do, could you tell him Sakura is looking for him?” She flashes you a dazzling smile that almost burns your irises.

        “Sure.”

        “Thanks! I’ll see you around!” Waving goodbye, she disappears inside the apartment across from yours, presumably to relocate her clothes from the night before. 

        “Not likely,” you mumble gruffly, slamming the door. You step into your kitchen only to find Oikawa casually eating a bowl of cereal on a stool at your counter. He shoots you an incredulous look.

        “She didn’t see me, right?!”

        “Oh no, of course not.” You snatch the breakfast away and munch on a bite of Cheerios. “Your girlfriend didn’t notice you stealing my food out in the open like a buttnugget.”

        “I am not a ‘buttnugget’! And I’d prefer you not speak with your mouth full.” You stick your tongue out at him and he grimaces at the bits of chewed food still visible. “Nasty. Anyways, she’s not my girlfriend.” 

        “I guess you’re right,” you shrug, plopping onto a stool next to his, “she’s more like the love of your life.” You waggle your eyebrows at him and he scoffs while pushing your shoulder playfully. 

        “Not in a million years.” He rises from his seat and smoothly presses his ear to the door before checking the peephole. “Coast is clear. You should probably go back to bed, YN. Get some more of that beauty rest you so desperately need.”

        “Bite me,” you grumble around a mouthful of cereal. 

        “I just might.” With a wink, he disappears out into the hall and back into his own home. The feeling of disappointment when he left wasn’t unknown to you, but you didn’t want to mull over it right now. Instead, you purse your lips and stand to wash the now-empty bowl, catching a glimpse of your clock on the way. 

        “Three a.m! What the fuck?!” Now that you know, the darkness outside your windows makes a lot more sense. Fortunately, it’s a Saturday, and it’s also not the first time Oikawa has required your help in fending off his nighttime companions. You’re used to it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t ream his ass about it every time you’re a little more conscious and awake. 

        “Goddamnit Oikawa.”

                                ***

It happens again, and again, and again. And every time it does, your feelings for him grow just a bit more, weirdly enough. On those early mornings that you wake up to him sliding into your bed and winding himself around you, you can’t help but wish it was for an entirely different reason. Sadly, reality was that he was just trying to escape his nightly mistakes. 

        Some days, you rouse to the smell of bacon wafting into the room. Others, he slips in and out before you even stir, leaving only a couple pancakes and a thank you note in his wake. 

        It’s been more than a year of this. A year of your apartment being used as a hideout, and of you being used as snuggly aftercare. Finally, you’ve decided you’ve had enough. You made a plan to confess at Christmas while you exchange gifts. 

        “Oh wow!” You hold up the hand-written slip of paper with an amused smile. It had been packaged in several wrapped cardboard boxes, and you had spent twenty minutes removing and ripping open one after the other while Oikawa busted a gut. “A limited time coupon for one free booty call!” You shake your head with a small chortle while he snickers at the gift. 

        “I even laminated it.”

        “Yes, yes you did,” you snort, flapping the “coupon” in the air. Holiday music plays softly in the background and you're both wrapped in blankets. A televised campfire crackles on the screen behind Oikawa, and the only thing brightening up your living room is the medium-sized, ornamented tree near the two of you, tinging the air with the scent of spruce and cinnamon. 

        “All right, I suppose I’ll save this for later.” You slip his gift under your thigh and hand him your own, in a red and green bag with tissue paper sticking out the top. “Now open mine!” 

        He smiles and digs his hand inside, crinkling around while he guesses, “Is it… a blanket?”

        “Nope.”

        “Is it… a t-shirt that says ‘I’m with stupid’?”

        “No, you jerk!” You laugh and smack his knee. “Just open it!”

        “If it’s worse than my gift, you totally owe me.” 

        “That’s literally not possible.” He gasps dramatically at you and finally pulls out the clothing. It’s a sweatshirt you had made especially for him. On the front was the logo for Boys’ Volleyball Nationals, and his eyes gleam in delight. Then he flips it around and reads the back. 

        “‘Number One Spectator’?!” He gawks at you in offense and you can’t hold back your giggles. While you crack up, he repeatedly glances between you and the sweatshirt with a pout. 

        “You totally owe me for this, YN!” 

        “I can’t! Oh, this is too good!” you guffaw, wiping tears away from your eyes. Suddenly, Oikawa tackles you to the floor, both hands beginning to attack your sides in a flurry of tickles. 

        “Oh shit!” you screech, twisting back and forth to try and escape. Your attempts are futile. 

        “Say you’re sorry!” One of his hands capture both of your wrists and hold them above your head so you couldn’t fight him. 

        “Never!” Your flabs ache while you wheeze out the occasional laugh. 

        “You’re so mean, YN!” He scolds with a wagging finger before instantly assaulting your exposed sides once more. “Just say your sorry!”

        “Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” you cry out with a giggle, gulping in large amounts of air when he finally stops. 

        “You’re forgiven,” he nods with a lopsided grin, still holding your hands hostage. A long moment passes as you relax and catch your breath, his gaze never leaving your flushed face, but when you can finally think properly again, you realize the compromising position you both are in. 

        He’s straddling your hips, one pressed against each side while his face leers over your own. Never before have you noticed just how dark his brown eyes are, and you can’t help but spot the occasional gold fleck while you lose yourself in them. With a gulp, you rub your thighs together and lick your lips. The action instantly grabs his attention, and Oikawa tightens his grip on your wrists before slowly lowering himself closer to you. A small part of you wants to wait, wants to let your relationship grow stronger, but the rest of you yearns to live in the moment and enjoy it while you have the chance. You pick your side, and clasp your eyes shut to brace yourself. Then it happens.

        There’s no explosions or fireworks like the books, but every single one of your nerves twinge with sparks. His lips are soft as they gently caress your own, taking their time to memorize the feeling. His brunet locks brush against your forehead and he carefully releases his hold on you, trailing his hands down to cup your cheeks while his tongue begs for entrance. Losing yourself in the moment, you allow it access, teasing and battling him for dominance with your own while you tenderly dig your fingers into his hair, combing and tugging on the strands as the kiss grows more heated. You separate for just a split second and Oikawa doesn’t stray far. In an instant, he’s biting and sucking on the smooth skin along your chin, using one arm to support himself over you while the other angles your head perfectly for his lips. Pain mingles with pleasure as his teeth graze and nip your delicate flesh. 

        “Tooru,” you whimper, and he grunts deeply in response. You yank on his tangled tufts harder, mewling his name repeatedly while he moves lower to leave love bites up and down your neck. He pecks the bruises soothingly and groans at the feeling of your hands pulling harshly in reaction to the sting. 

        “What do you want, YN?” He coos, words whispered against your skin. The sensation leaves you writhing beneath him. 

        “You.” 

                                ***

        That night, the coupon was left forgotten on the floor, but its offer had been used.

        The next day, you picked it up with a sniffle and dumped it into the trash while you gathered your clothes from around the living room. Like every other girl he had been with, he left during the middle of the night. 

        Unlike the mornings where you were shaken awake by him holding you close, you were all alone while viewing the sunrise through your blinds this time. 

        With puffy cheeks, you made yourself some instant coffee and downed it, ignoring the burn and the fresh numbness of your tongue now. You breathe out shakily and set the empty mug in the sink before preparing to take a shower. Every one of your movements was passively lifeless. Each footstep dragged against the floor, and every heartbeat in your chest pained you. 

        Under the scalding water, you scrubbed away the memory as best as you could, leaving your skin raw and aching, but you could still feel a semblance of his touch.

        In the mirror, purple blemishes littered every inch of your body from your chin to your calves. The sight of them reminded you of what exactly had scared him off. 

        His head was buried in the back of your neck as he nibbled on the skin there. You sighed happily, reveling in the afterglow of your love-making while relaxing further into the bed. Ever so slowly, you trail a hand down to your hips and interlock your fingers with his own, leading him to peck your nape gently. 

        “I love you,” you confess quietly. It was the heat of the moment, and you couldn’t help yourself. His body tenses behind you and his hand squeezes yours tightly for just a second. 

        “Oh.” The word, if that’s what it was, doesn’t sink in, and you fall asleep with a small smile on your face, pressing your back against his chest comfortingly. 

        At the time, you didn’t know. You had finally been with the man you loved, and he didn’t return your feelings. You wanted to be angry, enraged, or vengeful, but you were just sad. Ashamed of yourself and what you had done the night before. 

        In the past, you thought you meant more to Oikawa than his one night stands. You had seen the fake smiles he put up around them, and they never compared to the authentic grins he gave you. He joked with you, opened up to you, spent time with you and always seemed to want you around. Oh, how wrong you were to believe he would feel the same. 

                                ***

        Your employers weren't exactly okay with the fact that you had skipped about a month of work to wallow in self-pity, so they fired you. This unfortunate fact led you to search for a roommate, someone who could help you pay the rent while you job-hunted. You got an offer, and today he was moving in. 

        “YN?!” A familiar voice echoed from your apartment’s hallway, followed by a knocking on wood. “YN?!”

        “Oikawa?” You hesitantly make eye contact with him while hauling your groceries up the stairs. He’s in front of your door surrounded by cardboard boxes, and his face looks flushed with distress. 

        “YN, are you moving out?!” It’s the first time he’s talked to you since he left, and you want to beat the crap out of him with the hope that it would quell the pain. It won’t work, you know that, but you figure it’d be worth a shot.

        “No,” you clench your jaw and avoid his panicked gaze, “I got a new roommate.” 

        “Oh.” The look on his face falls, but so does every other emotion he had been displaying. Crossing his arms, he nods in understanding while observing the boxes of personal belongings around him. “That makes sense.”

        “Yeah, so uh… I guess I don’t really have to tell you this, but you can’t really hide out in my spare room anymore,” you shift on your feet, “You know, if you wanted to.”

        “Oh,” he repeats, and a muscle twitches in his jaw. “Okay.” 

        Awkward silence falls in the hallway, and you gulp while shifting awkwardly on the final stair to your apartment level. 

        “S-so,” he stutters before clearing his throat, “who’s your roommate?” 

        “Oh, his name is-” With perfect timing, your new roomie whips open the door to your home and grabs another cardboard box, completely dismissing the existence of the brunet across from him. 

        “Ushiwaka?!”

                                ***

        Your new roommate wasn’t exactly a bundle of fun. And for some reason, whenever he was caught in the hall with Oikawa, the latter would verbally attack him like a rat on a Cheeto. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you had a distant memory of your neighbor complaining about a man like Ushijima. You had both been on your couch, drinking wine and just talking about life when he suddenly grew angry at the memory of a man who “pissed him off like no other.” 

        In a way, you understood why; they were complete opposites. One was smug and social, while the other was more laid-back and reserved. Fate must have been on your side. Of course your new roommate would be the mortal enemy of the man who had broken your heart. Things were looking up, and it felt good to see Oikawa jealous, no matter how petty it sounded. You were heart-broken. Screw playing nice.

        “Hey YN?” Ushijima’s deep voice boomed from within his bedroom. The sudden holler made you jump from where you had been reclining on your couch, binging a new Netflix series. 

        “Yeah?” 

        “Can you take out the trash today? I have to get to practice.”

        “Sure, I got it.” After hopping off your sofa with a deep sigh, you plugged your nose with one hand and grabbed the trash bag in the kitchen with the other, kicking your way outside and into the hall. 

        “I’ll see you later snookums!” A feminine tone chimed from behind you. 

        “Heh, wonderful.” Oikawa. He must have a new lady friend. “Can’t wait, okay byeee!” His words were desperate and rushed as you pivoted to see him ushering a girl with her heels in her hands down the stairs. Wasn’t that… oh what’s her name… Sakura! When she disappears from his sight, he face palms and groans loudly. 

        “Still having trouble kicking ‘em to the curb?” you snort, rolling your eyes. While you throw your trash down the chute in the hall, Oikawa sighs. 

        “Umm sort of, actually. I just… I don’t know.” He sounds confused and broken. For some odd reason, you almost want to comfort him. “YN.” A hand drops on your shoulder and urges you to turn around. You do, and regrettably so. 

        His body language doesn’t show it, but deep in his eyes, there’s an emotion you desired from him weeks ago. No. “Things aren’t the same anymore. And I think I’ve figured out why.”

        “No.”

        “YN, please just let me explain.”

        “No, Tooru!” His name slips from your lips before you can stop it. “You don’t get to do that!” Your heart is racing in an instant and his nostrils flare. 

        “YN, I love you!”

        “I don’t care!” 

        A painfully long silence follows after your shout. The three words you’ve always wanted to hear from him echo in your head. He loves me. He loves me. Yes, but it didn’t matter. What he’s done… it was unforgivable. Leaving you like every other woman he’s been with. You thought you two were friends, that he wouldn’t treat you like that. But he did, and no matter how he felt now, he had to feel your pain. 

        “You… don’t care?” His lower lip trembles and his voice cracks. You quirk your mouth nervously and shake your head. 

        “Oikawa,” you mutter, “if you really loved me, why did you treat me like the rest?” 

        He stares at you for a while, frozen in shock. The hall grows ten times colder and suddenly it’s hard for you to breathe. You had to get out of there. 

        Spinning on your heel, you hurry back into your apartment, closing and locking the door just as you felt his fingertips reach and brush your elbow. 

        “YN! Wait!” 

        “YN? Are you okay?” Ushijima towers over your form, which had slumped to the ground against the wall. Tears prick your eyes, and you couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked you that question. He meant it too, there was a concern in his gaze you yearned for. 

        “No,” you croak out, using the door to help you stand with wobbling knees. The wood shivers beneath your hand from the pressure of Oikawa’s knocks. “No, I’m not.”

        Desperately, your neighbor's voice still pleads outside, and Ushijima nods. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.” It’s the most words he’s said to you in a day, and they pang your heart. 

        “Thank you,” you mumble, trudging away from the door and collapsing back onto your couch. 

        “Of course.” 

        The door opens behind you, and the lock clicks after it whooshes shut. You hug your knees into your chest and let the tears fall. 

        He loves me.

        “YN please!”

        He loves me.

        “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Please respect her wishes.”

        He loves me.

        “Oh, shut up you big oaf. I’m not gonna let you keep her from me! I won’t let you stop me again!”

        He loves me. 

        You breathe out a shaky sigh as the voices finally quiet. Wrapping a blanket around yourself, you fall into a dreamless sleep on the couch, stained cheeks and all. 

                                ***

        Another week passes. Ushijima has been talking you through the pain, but he’s also made you see reason. 

        “YN, he can be a pain, but I don’t think you should give up like this.” Was that really what happened? Did you give up? 

        “Doesn’t he deserve it?” 

        “Maybe, but I think he might be a person like me. I need time to sort my feelings out about things. Maybe he did too.” 

        His words shock you to the core. In all the time you’ve been thinking about your own feelings over what happened, Oikawa might’ve only started to understand his own. Okay, you got that. But then why did he sleep with more women afterwards?

        “You might be right, but I still need time.”

        “Okay.”

        In a million years, you never thought a stoic man like Ushijima would become the one to help you understand other people’s minds. He himself seemed aloof, especially when you tried to thank him. “For what?” he would say, “I’m just proposing a theory.” The man didn’t have a single touchy-feely bone in his body, and you began to respect that. It didn’t mean you would confront Oikawa yet, but at least you were getting somewhere. 

        While you stew over what Ushijima had told you, you hear a racket from in the hall. Ushijima is at practice, so you have to leave the apartment for the first time since last Thursday. 

        “Hey Shittykawa! Open up!” 

        There’s a beefy man furiously smacking Oikawa’s door that intimidates the shit out of you. However, you’re obviously not his target, so you lightly set the baseball bat down that you had grabbed for self-defense. 

        “C’mon Loserkawa! Tell me what’s going on!”

        “Umm,” you hesitantly pipe up. “Is everything okay?” While even though it involved your neighbor… you think, you still wondered if something bad was going on. Did something happen to Oikawa? Guilt struck your heart at the thought. Oh God, what if you never got to see him again?

        “Yeah, I guess,” Beefcake replies gravely and gestures a thumb at your neighbor’s door. “My friend just hasn’t left his house in a while. Sorry if I disturbed you.” 

        “It’s okay.” You figure the muscle man has it handled and plan to return to your daily activities of job-searching and wallowing in misery, but he grabs your shoulder suddenly, causing you to flinch. 

        “Wait!” He looks over his shoulder at Oikawa’s door, then back to you and your apartment. A deduction has been formed. “Are you YN?” Uh oh.

        “Umm, yeah? Who’s asking?”

        “Well son of a bitch,” he grumbles with a snarl, brandishing a key from his pocket. After sticking it in the lock and shouldering open the door, the man drags you into Oikawa’s apartment, which looks like ground zero. Pillows and clothing are strewn everywhere. There’s a table flipped on its side and empty food containers are littered on the ground here and there. In the middle of it all, curled up in a ball and covered in a blanket is a tear-stained Oikawa. His eyes resemble that of a raccoon as he peels them away from the TV he had been watching from his perch on the couch. 

        It’s a soap opera… about two roommates falling in love. Holy shit, he’s broken.

        “Goddamn, Shittykawa, it smells like someone died in here!” The man who tugged you in here waves his hand to disperse the aromatic funk, only to waft it into your face. You hold back a gag.

        “Something did, Iwa.” He makes eye contact with you for a split second before glancing away. “My happiness.” 

        You can hear your heart break at the jab, but “Iwa” only scoffs. 

        “You big sissy,” he folds his arms and raises an unimpressed brow. “Just talk to her and fucking get over it. We’ve needed you at practice for a week now.” Iwa places a hand on your back and shoves you forward through the mess. It’s not a hard push, but it’s enough for you to get the idea. 

        “Call me when you’re done so I can let the team know you’re okay.” Beefcake begins to exit but halts himself with a hand on the door. “Don’t go dark like that ever again, okay Shittykawa? People worry about you, not just your love life. Let us know what’s going on,” he mumbles over his shoulder before disappearing into the hall. 

        When you turn back around, Oikawa is sniffling and wiping his nose while avoiding your gaze. 

        “So…” you trail off awkwardly, standing in the middle of his apartment like a clean lighthouse amongst a beach of crap. 

        “YN, I’m sorry.” Oikawa takes the initiative, but still refuses to look at you. “God, I’m so sorry for what I did. I knew it was a bad idea from the moment I left your bed.” His voice is absolutely ruined. It sounds like every word scrapes past his throat and rubs it raw. He sounds… broken.

        You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you struggle to breathe at a normal volume. 

        “I just,” he pauses to hide his face in his hands. “I just didn’t know what else to do. With you, yeah it felt different. God, of course it did. It felt amazing. But leaving after was the only thing I knew how to do, no matter what I felt.” 

        His words raise the hair on your arms, and you slowly walk around the random objects, taking your sweet time before you slump down onto the couch beside him.

        “Okay,” you breathe out shakily, eyes also locking on the television. “I get that.” As you chew on the inside of your cheek, you can’t help your gaze straying to his hand. It’s twitching closer and closer to you and you grasp it slowly, interlocking your fingers like long before. His are cold, and in your peripheral vision you can see him smiling at you while you try to warm it up with both hands. 

        “But look,” you pull your legs up onto the couch and swivel to face him, grabbing his other hand and rubbing it in the process, “I’m gonna need a little time to trust you.”

        “That’s okay!” He nods his head frantically and turns to face you as well, copying your position. “I can give you time!” 

        Your lips twitch at his excitement and you shyly glance down at your hands, but your eyes catch on something. The sweatshirt you got him for Christmas. He’s wearing it. Your breath hitches at the sight and Oikawa grows confused, following your gaze down to his clothing choice as well. 

        “Oh. Right.” He forces on a smug smirk. “It’s not that bad now that I’ve tried it on- oof.” You don’t hesitate to yank him into a hug across the couch. To be honest, you were surprised he had kept it. You had expected him to toss it just like you had done to his coupon. Although, to be fair, your gift had already been utilized. 

        With a sigh, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and drag a hand up into his hair, combing through the tangled strands. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around your back, then seems to gain a little courage as he suddenly squeezes you ten times harder than your ribs can handle. You don’t mind though.

        “I’m sorry for what I said, too,” you whisper against his neck, pressing a kiss against his skin simply because of the convenience. “I love you.” 

        Oikawa freezes in your hold and digs his fingers into your back. “... I love you too.” You sigh happily into his collarbone, pecking his skin more and more as his breathing grows labored. 

        “YN.” He pulls away just enough that there is a minimal amount of space between your noses. His eyes bore into your own with utter seriousness as he rubs his hands up and down your back calmingly. “I need you to know that after that night, I haven’t been with anyone since.” 

        Abruptly, you pull away and snap your brows together. “Really?”

        “Yes.”

        “What about Sakura?” 

        “Who?” You roll your eyes. 

        “Sakura! The girl you pushed out of your apartment?” His eyes widen in realization and he leans back slightly. 

        “Oh crap, you’re right. She was a nutjob!” You scoff.

        “So you did have sex with her.” 

        “No,” he shakes his head and stares deeply into your eyes so you knew he meant it. “I didn’t. She got ahold of me weeks after I stupidly gave her my number in the first place and I had to kick her out of my house after she barged in.” 

        “Oh really, snookums?” You sneer at him and he only chuckles. 

        “Yeah, buttnugget,” he smirks and bounces his forehead against yours lightly. “I mean it. She was an absolute whacknut, and I blocked her right after she left.” 

        “She was carrying her shoes.”

        “You think I’m gonna let her track mud into my apartment?” You glance around with a disbelieving look and nod your head. 

        “Uh yeah.” Oikawa scoffs and gestures around the living room. 

        “Ok, this,” he points his fingers in emphasis, “was all your doing, sweetheart. Congratulations, you're the second person in the world to break me.” 

        “Second? Aw man, who beat me?” You snicker as he smacks your thigh, offended. Then his face darkens and your smirk falters at the sight. 

        “Is something going on between you and Ushiwaka?” The smirk regains its rightful place and you tug on Oikawa’s cheek teasingly. 

        “Aww, Tooru, are you jealous?” He bats your hand away and pouts at you. 

        “Of course! That emotionless bastard told me to stay away from you. Also, everybody knows roommates always fall for each other!” Your face scrunches up at the thought.

        “Okay, who told you that?” He huffs and points at the TV.

        “Sofia and George fell in love after like two weeks of knowing each other! I mean, yeah, he did put her mother in a coma, but that bitch deserved it!” Your eyes grow to the size of saucers at his theory and you don’t hesitate to click the television off before grabbing his hand and tugging him out of the apartment faster than he can say “telenovela.”

        “What are you doing?”

        “Bringing you back out into the real world, where stepmoms don’t poison their daughter-in-laws over a lost diamond.”  

        “They don’t?!”

                                ***

        The sun is shining, birds are chirping, and once again, thankfully, Oikawa is right by your- oh shit, he’s gone! 

        “Tooru?!” you call out in a panic, feeling around the empty mattress for any sign of where he may have gone. “Tooru?! You son of a bitch, I swear if you left again, I will kick your ass!”

        “YN?” Oikawa peeks his head inside your bedroom, throwing you a confused look. “What are you yelling about?” Oops.

        “I thought your bitch-ass left again.” Your husband rolls his eyes at you.

        “Seriously, YN? It’s been five years, give it a rest will you?” You only stick out your tongue and roll out of bed before waddling over to him. 

        “Never.” You smile sweetly and kiss his cheek while he rubs circles on your stomach. With a shake of his head, he lazily returns your grin and lands a large smooch on your forehead before directing you into the kitchen. 

        “I was making you breakfast by the way.” He sets the plate down in front of you, and it’s a pleasant surprise to notice he’s shirtless and only wearing a “kiss the chef” apron over his glorious six pack. “Pancakes and hot sauce, just like your nasty, pregnancy-craving ass requested.”

        “Mmm, delicious.” You rub your pregnant belly and lick your lips hungrily. “Just like baby Ushiwaka wanted.”

        “I told you that joke isn't funny, YN!”

#oikawa x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu!! x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! #oikawa x reader fluff #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader angst #tooru x reader #hq #haikyu!! #toru oikawa x reader #hq!! #tooru oikawa #oikawa toru x reader #hq!! x reader #haikyuu #oikawa #tooru #hq x reader #toru #oikawa angst #oikawa tooru #oikawa torū #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa fic #oikawa fluff #haikyuu!! imagines

[newsagogos]

where does girlie fit into evil au

She lived for most of her life with her mom, the leader of the rebellion at the time. When the Girl is 10 years old, BLI finds them and captures and dracs her mom; no one knows how she managed to get away. After that the zones are hectic. Everyone is on edge after the loss of a major figure in the rebellion and the increasing BLi raids and the doubling of patrols that lead to the unfortunate end of a few notable crews. A few months later, Dr. D steps in as the new leader of the rebellion, guiding the desert back to a nearly unified front. At the same time he takes in the Girl as her caretaker and starts making her out to be the fresh new face of the rebellion.

Dr. D spends the next 5 years slowly building up her reputation as someone special, all the while oblivious to her powers. People tend to avoid her or keep their distance, there’s a lingering fear that being close to a major zone player’s kid would bring BLi barging through their metaphorical doors. The few exceptions are Newsagogo, Cherri Cola and most importantly, Show Pony: devout follower of DESTROYA. By spending time around Pony, she learns more about DESTROYA right around the time her powers start manifesting. At Pony’s urging, she keeps them a secret "as to surprise D later”- their words not hers. 

As she gets older, she starts having a distaste for the whole image/role D is pushing her into and begins acting out. Does a lot of running away, lashing out and being generally counterproductive. She always comes back though as that is one of the only places she knows/can call home. Through all of this, she discovers that the rebellion isn’t what D makes it out to be, and so begins fighting an upward battle.

@tapefish

#evil au #danger days #ttlotfk #asks #jg piff #'oh yeah it's all coming together'

[blood-injections]

Having so many wacky au thoughts so much I want to write and so little free time to but like. Mmmmngh doppelganger Fab Four thoughts rn especially like clones or androids made to get in and take the place of the Fab Four or one of them in order to spy or get the girl or or also like time travel aus where they come back from like sing where they die to warn the younger them or also like a time loop one with a similar idea and one of them is in the time loop I’m thinking either Kobra or the girl and they have to find a way to stop them all from dying and oh like an au where there’s like aliens maybe there’s the doppelgangers but they’re shapeshifting aliens, something Other and not bli

#first doppelganger one is up first I’m starting it now #ttlotfk #danger days

[sleevesareforlosers]

How do like,, android bodies work in your android au? You mentioned, I think, that Poison has a warm body temperature— is that intentional on BLI’s part, or as a result of mechanisms and stuff running? Do they need to breathe/can they breathe? How easily would one be able to tell someone’s an android? How common is it for androids to defect from BLI? Is Poison’s hair red by choice, or is it naturally red? Do they know how much I love them? /j on the last one :)

!!!!! okay SO (keep in mind ive done no research and i like to pretend i know shit about mechanics)

to my knowledge, all contained mechanical things need to be cooled somehow, either with a fan (like a laptop or a video game system) or a coolant system (like uhhh cars (which also have fans shhh)). androids in this verse have fan systems to keep from overheating and like, frying their boards, but they dont rlly work well bc there isnt a lot of venting for the heat to escape. (why dont they have coolant then, you may ask, bc i dont want them to). so its not an intentional thing but jsut a byproduct of mechanisms running, but i like to use it as a way to show emotions. anytime im like “there was a whirring sound” odds are the person whirring is doing some like, intense thinking. Might be modeled after how my computer sounds like a jet trying to take off anytime im in a zoom lecture (dont tell anyone)

they can breath! but they dont need to. however, the way i picture their like, voiceboxes/vocal cords working is that they need some kind of airflow to create the sounds so while they dont need to breathe, they do if they want to talk/make noise.

it depends!! for things like android girls (pornodroids but i feel like thats not how they like to be called yknow?) and patrol/security droids its more important that they look organic because of the emotional response they need to draw from citizens. like in canon, other droids can totally look robotic but then theyre less considered droids and more considered robots (by BL/ind at least, i think its a bit of a self-identification thing to them if they prefer being robots/droids. android specifically refers to the ones that look organic tho) (you didnt ask for a tangent about naming conventions but its my post)

HOWEVER! desert patrol droids are easier to tell that they are droids because after long enough in the sun, they start to fade (you know how fences need to be repainted?) and they fade unevenly. access panels fade faster than regular ‘skin’ so an old desert patrol droid (like poison) will have patches of skin that r way more washed out than the rest of them. (also they fade, not lighten)

i dont think it’s super common for droids to defect :/ poison was a rare case bc he literally got abandoned and ghoul was right there when he woke up, but if ghoul hadn’t been then they probably would have just made their way back to the city. the better treated a droid is (BLi standards of droid treatment apply) the less likely they are to defect, and treatment is kinda tied to how organic a droid looks, (think abt like, headless preacher droid from the comics)

GOOD QUESTION! i havent fully fleshed this out yet. im caught somewhere between droids arent given hair vs they are given hair but its all standard issue vs somehow BLI made it possible for droids to actually grow hair. but i think regardless, poisons hair wasnt RED the way it is in the zones. that was a them-reclaiming-their-body thing

i know ur joking w the last one but im gonna be soft for a moment and say that poison and kobra do know, very deeply, how much their crew loves them

#android au #THANK you for this one ive been HOPING someone would ask abt the whirring and the breathing thing #Anonymous

[ghostxraven]

❕ for party and 💬 for jet and 🎡 and 🌎 for you! mwah!

TY JORDAN i LOVE u ❣️❣️

❕has BLI been the primary factor for the problems in their life? + party poison

hm. that’s an interesting question. & it’s maybe gonna sound like a bit of a cop out but im going to say yes and no. because on the one hand you could argue that a lot of the turning points for the worse in his life have been because of BLI (the loss of their parents, the loss of a lot of their childhood, the crow program, day-to-day danger), but on the other, really, the CONSEQUENCES of things are because of how they ARE as a person & their ego (distancing from his brother, taking so long to leave the city, being cold to people & causing fights with crews they’re trying to trade with, ETC). and for my killjoys especially i think that BLI has less of an impact on what desert society is able to do compared to other people’s canons so. if there’s a problem in poison’s life there’s a fairly large chance they caused it themself

💬 what are their closest relationships? + jet star

jet star my beloved! jet is very close with their parents! he’s an only child & was part of their crew for a very long time before he met party and kobra so that makes sense but he calls them on the radio a few times a week and feel comfortable enough to tell them pretty much everything in their life his parents are very important to him. jet & cherri are also really close — this is something i’ve mentioned but cherri was fostered by jet’s parents and so they’re like siblings. then of course you’ve got the fab four and while jet is v close with all of them poison and jet are BEST friends. in a different way than kobra and ghoul are best friends — kobra & ghoul are like “hey let’s go try and skateboard down the roof at the radio station” and pois & jet are more like “let’s sit on the roof and talk for like five hours straight”. and their relationship doesn’t start for a long while (2 years after SING) but jet and pony have a will-they-won’t-they kind of close friendship & then very steady long-distance dating until pony eventually moves in to the diner (by the time that happens, cherri is also living there & while the girl has moved out, charlie has arrived and is an energetic child as well so as you might imagine the diner is crowded <- complimentary)

🎡 are there large zone gatherings or do people prefer to stay distant?

i think there ARE gathering places you can go to — the market, tommy’s, concerts, hyper thrust & other bars/clubs — but there’s definitely a “crew loyalty above all else” mentality so you definitely have people who don’t want to or trust interacting with other crews; and people do kind of stick with their own crew even in those larger settings so 🤷‍♀️

🌎 do you like AUs? if so, what's your favourite?

as a matter of fact (which. is kind of easy to guess probably but) i DO like aus (which is why i write so many i just think they’re fun not even just for danger days) but in terms of a FAVORITE that’s hard. i really love your android au & you know that but ummm. i love city aus in general (im trying really hard here not to just say all the things you said but) & oh i think that @/theultravs warriors au is really fun & good! and yk this one but i love this canon-divergent fic abt poison in a groundhog-day-style timeloop. in terms of my own fics ballet au is v close to my heart as is the sw au!

anyways THANK U JORDAN ilysm! 🥺❣️💕 ty for the ask!!!

send me DD asks!

#pi's personal #query on top #danger days #hcs #treasured mutuals #jordan tag ⚠️ #!!!!!! #i LOVE u MWAH #ask game