#and not a fake mannequin smile

[moralesmilesanhour]

My second time writing a request foe someone rlly nervous lol

Can you do a

reader x earth 42 miles

Where reader wants to buy things for themselves but miles keeps buying stuff for them like anything we look at or love next thing Yk he’s buying it?

I rlly hope you can understand this bc im not sure if it made sense 💀

-sincerely sorry miller

Oh don't be nervous I understand perfectly fine!! (Under the cut as usual)

"See you, Carol!" You wiped the sweat forming around your hairline as you untied your apron with haste. You had taken extra shifts at the diner this week for extra spending money, and it had you counting down the days until Friday.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, the bell jingled as you pushed open the glass door with a grunt.

Right next door to the run-down diner was a small clothing shop, one of the few that managed to stay open. You had made it a habit to check the window for the mannequin that had your jeans on: A flaired, denim number that was optimal for weekend block parties.

"Come Friday, you're mine, baby." You say to yourself with a hand on the plexiglass display.

"I thought I was already yours," a familiar voice nearly made you jump out of your skin.

Miles' footsteps could almost never be heard, you swore he was a ninja in his spare time.

"Don't fuckin scare me like that!" You whined, smacking his shoulder as an amused grin spread across his lips.

He ignored your outburst and pointed towards the mannequin. "You want that?"

You gave him a warning look. "I'm gonna go shopping this weekend. When I get paid."

"You didn't answer the question."

"No comment," you said, spinning on your heel to walk away with Miles' gentle laughter following behind you.

When you don't stop, he jogs after you and traps you in a bear hug.

"Fuck off, Miles!" You laughed, fake struggling to escape.

"Alright, tell me what I did."

"Nothing!"

He let you go and opted to walk next to you, his long legs making it easy to keep up with you.

"Okay look, whatever you're mad at me for, I got a surprise waiting for you," Miles poked his head in front of you as you both walked, twin braids dangling over his shoulder. "Come over?"

You sighed, "Fine."

He gently took your hand and started tugging you along, presumably in the direction of his mom's apartment. "Thank you."

-

Miles' brow furrowed as he fumbled with his keys a bit before quietly unlocking the door. He turned to you and placed his index finger over his lips, and you nodded in understanding.

The familiar smell of yellow rice and scented candles engulfed the both of you when you entered the empty apartment. Rio was at work, and Uncle Aaron was likely napping in the living room, as it was only the late afternoon.

"So, where's the surprise?" You whispered.

"My room. Been up there for about a week."

You rushed up the stairs as quietly as your feet could carry you to catch up to your boyfriend, who was already halfway there and glancing down at you with an impish grin. You roll your eyes playfully. Typical.

"Lemme take that," Miles stuck his hand out for your work bag as he removed his sneakers.

Deeply inhaling the cool air of his room, you let him take it off your shoulders. You were sure that thing was starting to leave a mark from carrying it on the same side every day.

Miles sat on his bed for a moment to rummage through his black knapsack, and produced a small, pink plastic bag no bigger than the hand that held it. This confirmed one of your suspicions, and you gave him a tired smile as he stood to place it gently in your palm. He was a funny sight, hands clasped together in anticipation like a parent at Christmas.

Inside the bag was a little white box, which held a small necklace cushioned in the middle. You recognized the teardrop pendant from the mall. You had practically dragged Miles along, looking bored and scrolling through his phone the entire time. Or so you thought.

Now, he looked about ready to run a marathon from here to Manhattan as you removed the delicate necklace, the silver chain catching the little light that Miles allowed into his room in shiny strips.

"Thank you baby, I love it," you bit your bottom lip, "It's just that-"

"I could put it on you?"

You sighed, and held out the necklace. "Of course."

He damn near snatched the piece of jewelry from you to unclasp it, rushing to get behind you.

"Miles, if you break it-"

"I won't, relax!"

The cool metal settled on your skin as he gently draped it around your neck, and fastened the clasp.

"How does it look?"

Miles moved your braids back and planted a kiss on your cheek. "Pretty."

"I know you know more words than that, sir," you teased, "try again."

"Alright, breathtaking. Stunning. Effervescent."

"Now you're trying too hard."

"I'm about to take this necklace back," he muttered, earning a short outburst of laughter from you.

When the laughter subsided, you turned to face him. He let your braids slide across his hands before they fell back at your shoulders.

"Miles, I need you to do something for me."

Worry settled over the boy's soft features. "Such as...?"

"Don't buy me them jeans," you said, arms crossed but still smiling.

His brows shot up. "Why, you don't like 'em anymore?"

"I do," you draped your arms around his neck, "which is why I've been saving up to get them myself."

You watched Miles' eyes dart back and forth in thought before settling back on you. He was silent, imploring you to explain further.

"If I wanted everything gifted to me, I wouldn't have gotten a job."

Miles nods, and something seems to slot into place for him.

"So no more surprise gifts?" He says, pouting exaggeratedly.

"For at least another two weeks."

Miles winced, taking a nervous glance at his knapsack, "Damn."

Following his line of sight, you noticed the white plastic bag poking out from it.

Your jaw drops, and you give him another good smack on the shoulder.

"You bought it, didn't you?"

He smiles tightly. "Hypo...thetically?"

"Miles!"

-

A/N: idk why the hell that took me so long to write but it was fun! Happy reading!

#miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #moralesanhour #miles g morales

[socialkid]

Imagine…

It’s a casual Saturday afternoon in the middle of June. The sun is out with mild wind, it was the perfect weather. And when the weather is nice like this, everyone knows to watch out for you. Because around this time, you’re shopping. Shopping, shopping, shopping. You run from store to store buying everything in sight. Most of the time with your money, which makes your boyfriend mad. He likes to pay for you.

You boyfriend: Bakugou who knows you love shopping. The days when you have free time, what are you doing? Shopping. The nights where Bakugou’s pacing up and down your apartment because you won’t answer the phone then suddenly, you come bursting through the front door with a bunch of shopping bags. He knows. If anyone knows it’s him.

This morning Bakugou had gotten a call and he was reminded that he had a day off from the agency he worked at. So when he woke you up to ask what you wanted to do today, he wondered why he asked, already knowing your answer.

Now you and Bakugou were walking through the strip mall, him holding two of your bags in one hand and his other holding yours.

“Are we done yet? I wanna take you dinner and we can’t be here all day.” Bakugou asked, grunting as he readjusted your bags.

“Not even close babe,” you said with a quickness as he groaned, “Besides, it’s only two o’clock. You don’t want to just sit around till dinner do you?” You asked him.

“Yea yeah.” He said.

You looked through the windows of the stores as they went by. Preppy, pink and frilly stores, tomboy stores, casual clothing stores, toy stores, and so much more.

“Where we goin’ next huh?” Bakugou asked, looking through some of the bags he was holding. “Hmmm probably Spencer’s, then we could hit up the food court for Auntie Anne’s, and then Foreve-” you stopped in your tracks at a merch store. The window displayed, shirts and hats of merchandise by well known creators.

Bakugou looked at you as you made googly eyes at the coryxkenshien merch, worn by a mannequin. “Y/n…don’t start-” your boyfriend was interrupted by you squealing and jumping. “Just go in the damn store already.” Bakugou sighed as you rushed in. Bakugou made his way in behind you slowly after. Not even 15 seconds later and he had already lost you.

He made his way around the store looking for you, and calling your name every once in a while. He got the idea to check by the Cory section. No sign of you. He checked the sections of your favorite artists and creators, still no sign of you.

He had actually started to become a little panicky. “Y/n? Where are you?” He raised his voice. He knew you were smart, the complete opposite of vulnerable. You could help yourself if you needed to. Even without using your quirk, you can handle anyone. But still, Bakugou wanted to make sure you were safe.

Bakugou had checked almost every area of the store and he had continued to worry. Before resorting to shouting your name he saw a section under a sign that wrote “Heroes”.

As soon as he entered, your voice began to fade in, “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my goshhh!” Bakugou walked past all the merchandise: Earser Head, Red Riot, Chargebolt, and more. He finally stopped when he saw you gazing at a triple layered table, sitting under a sign labeled “Dynamite”.

There on the table was a clear representation of Katsuki himself. The black and orange shirts and pants, hoodies labeled ‘Dynamite’ in black and orange letters, and miniature sized Dynamite plushies.

Bakugou couldn’t help but grin a little bit when you turned around to face him, already wearing a baseball cap with his named labeled onto it. “Babe! Look! It’s you! Everywhere! Oh my gosh!” You said smiling from ear to ear. “I can see that y/n.” He said sarcastically, chuckling a bit, “Calm down, you can get what you want I’ll pay for it.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You picked up everything that had his name on it. Hoodies, tank tops, hats, water bottles, stuffed plushies, fake tattoos, etc. You also stashed a few items by Shoto, Red Riot, and even one or two Deku items.

You were so excited for your items. So excited you didn’t pay attention to the shocked face of the cashier ringing up all the Dynamite merchandise, as she looked at Dynamite behind you.

After that nothing else in the mall seemed interesting. At this point you were ready to go home before dinner and check out your man’s merch.

After that day, you made sure to put your items to use. You were always flaunting your boyfriend and you made sure everybody knew it.

One night your boyfriend had called you up and asked if he could sleepover at your apartment. And when he arrived he was meet with you, wearing an oversized Dynamite shirt. He couldn’t help his intentions that night. And when everything was done, you cuddled up next to your Dynamite plushie and your life sized Dynamite.

“You love me don’t you?” Bakugou asked, you could practically hear his grin.

“Yup, both of you.”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x yn #boku no hero academia #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader

[httplilyyy]

𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 | 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: the secret is out 

warnings: descriptions of violence, (possible) multiple character death, knives, guns, descriptions of blood (lots of it), swearing, angst, scream vi spoilers, bad writing

words: 5445

a/n: this is a bit of a lengthy chapter but it’s one of my favourites.

scream masterlist | prev. part | next part

004. red right hand - nick cave & the bad seeds

‘you'll see him in your nightmares.’

‘What’s your favourite scary movie?’

Those words were written on the wall, a ghostface spray painted just above the chilling question in an old alleyway. 

Everywhere you looked something screamed at you to run the other way. You walked alongside Tara and Sam, the younger of the two holding onto your hand, afraid that you would disappear in a blink of an eye.

“Jason and Greg were little Atlantan rich boys.” Gale explained as she walked ahead of everyone, guiding you all into the warehouse. “They used fake names to rent this place.”

“How did you find it?” Kirby questioned, jogging forward to walk beside Gale.

“It’s called investigative journalism for a reason, how didn’t you find it? Weren’t you tracking them?”

“I went through their financial records dozens of times and this was not in any of them.” Kirby huffed as she looked up at the warehouse. “It doesn't make sense.”

“Don’t worry,” Gale smiled feigning sympathy, “I’m just really good at my job, you’ll get there.” 

Gale pulled a key card from her bag and opened the door to the warehouse, the rest of you following the woman inside. Gale also grabbed a flashlight, turning it on so she could guide the rest of the way. 

“What is this place?” Sam asked as she walked in, looking around at the cobweb littered walls. “What’s with all the security?”

Gale switched on the lights allowing you to finally see what you had just walked into.

“It’s a movie theatre.” Tara stated as she looked around.

“It’s not just a theatre. It's a shrine.” Gale said, nodding to the memorabilia placed all around the theatre.

Your head snapped to the stage, watching as the curtains rose up to show nine mannequins with black cloaks, the ghostface masks missing. 

Interested, you took a few cautious steps forward, each item was from the past ghostface’s and their victims. 

“They’ve got the whole damn franchise.” Mindy spoke loudly as she walked around, taking in everything that she could.

“Chad.” Mindy gasped softly.

“Hmm?” The boy replied.

“This was uncle Randy’s.” Mindy said, looking at an old t-shirt. “They’ve got everything.”

“Is that-” Tara started, looking over at Kirby.

“The knife I was stabbed with.” Kirby finished, a sorrowful look on her face.

“You have all been through so much.” Bailey said, looking around the room.

“Who drew all these- woah wait.” Mindy said, cutting herself off as she looked intently at an old photo.

“What’s up?” Sam asked, looking over to the girl.

“There’s a child in this.”

Your head snapped up from looking at an old piece of memorabilia and at Mindy. There's only one child who that could be. You. 

“What the hell?” Chad mumbled, walking over to his sister so he could have a look himself.

“Y/n? Is that- is that you?” Mindy questioned, looking backwards and forwards from the photo to you.

“I uh- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You replied, turning your focus onto something else.

“This kid. It looks like you.” Mindy persisted.

You knew you would have to share your secret some time soon but you weren't ready for it to be this soon. You turned your head to Kirby who gave you a discrete nod then you looked at Gale, the older woman giving you a warm smile.

“Okay, I- yeah it’s me.” You said, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

“What the hell.” Chad exclaimed, looking over to you. “Y/n-”

“Look- I- I’m sorry, okay! I just didn’t know how to tell you-” You said, trying to explain as you walked towards the two only for them to take a step back.

Taking the hint you stood in your place, in the middle of the theatre, with everybody watching you. You internally chuckled, this all seemed like some horrible play and you had no way out of it.

“That your sister was a Ghostface?!” Mindy said loudly, hands raised beside her.

“Half sister. Different dads.” You mumbled with a shrug.

“Y/n, why wouldn’t you tell us?” Tara questioned quietly, as if her voice was going to break if she spoke any louder. She was going to move towards you, only to be stopped by Sam.

“I tried to.” You said, heart breaking at all of your friends looking at you as if you were the killer. “I really did- you have to believe me.”

“Y/n-” Sam tried.

“Please.” You said, voice cracking as you tried not to cry.

Sam looked hesitant and so did Tara, although the two of them wanted to comfort you, they didn’t know whether to trust you. 

“You don’t trust me, do you?” You stated, voice breaking as tears brimmed your eyes as you looked around at your friends.

“Y/n-” 

“It's fine.” You sniffled, wiping away your tears. “It’s fine.”

You looked at everyone around you, feeling like the walls were caving in and you needed to escape, but you didn’t know where to go so you went up onto the stage. 

Everyone watched you, moving out of your way as you passed them, as if you had something contagious. 

Your heart cracked, you looked back at the people who you once called your friends before standing in front of the ghostface mannequins.

It suddenly felt as if you were under water, you could hear people talking but their voices were muffled. You could also feel eyes on the back of your head, as if it were a target. 

You looked at the past ghostfaces, stopping in front of one that had left you in a trance but to you it was more of a nightmare.

Jill’s name was shown at the bottom of the costume, a shiver went down your spine at the memories of that night. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to not let your mind slip back to that time.

But it was no use.

You sat on the floor, hands and feet bound with duct tape, along with your mouth. Your eyes were red raw, tears flowing down your cheeks as you looked up to your older sister. 

The person you used to look up to the most stabbed her accomplice. He doubled over in pain, bleeding from where Jill had stabbed him, right in the heart, a look of betrayal flickering over his expression.

“There’s been a change of plans.” Jill smiled manically. “The problem with you Charlie, it’s always been about killing Sidney Prescott. My plan is a little bigger. I’m going to become her.” 

And with that, Jill stabbed him again. Charlie couldn’t believe what was happening as he stared at the woman, stunned and shocked. Before falling back and crumbling to the floor.

Jill looked down at him with a glimmer of diabolical glee. She gave his body a quick kick with her foot but his body didn't move. The realisation crossing your face, he's dead and your sister had killed him.

“How did you turn into this?” Sidney asked, looking between Jill and Charlie's now dead body, a glimpse of you being caught in the corner of her eye.

“Nothing is ever what it seems. Your words, Sidney. I've always been this. You know what it's like growing up related to you? All you hear is Sidney this, Sidney that, Sidney, Sidney...You were always so fucking special. Now it's my turn.”

You watched on in fear, Jill taking her knife and pointing it at Sidney, a sickening smile taking form on her face.

“And now you have to die. Those are the rules.”

“What rules?”

“There's only room for one lead. Let's face it, Sid, your ingenue days are over.”

Jill advanced on Sidney, stabbing her with the knife. The older woman gasped in pain leading Jill to stab her again. Sidney dropped to her knees, now losing a lot of blood but desperately trying to stay awake.

Then everything felt as if it moved in slow motion, Sidney’s body fell limp to the floor, you looked at her hopefully, begging for her to get up but she didn’t move.

You let out a scream, the duct tape against your mouth preventing you from being too loud but the sound still startled Jill. 

Her head snapped towards you and it was as if her gaze softened but you knew that was too good to be true. 

Jill made her way to you, kneeling in front of you. You tried to back away in fear but you couldn’t do anything due to the duct tape around your wrists and ankles.

“Oh, my sweet baby sister.” Jill said sweetly, holding a hand up to your cheek.

You flinched away, even more tears falling from your eyes as you whimpered at the sight of Jill. You looked into her eyes, trying to find the Jill who was once your sister, your best friend, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“I really wish I didn't have to do this.” Jill said sadly and you would’ve believed her if it wasn't for the sickening smile on her face.

You violently shook your head from side to side as you watched Jill edge her knife closer and closer to your side, just under your ribs. You squirmed, kicked, thrashed and screamed, begging Jill with your eyes not to do it. 

But she didn't listen. Her knife went into your side and then everything went black.

“So somebody killed these chuckle fucks and took over?” Chad questioned, snapping you out of your haze.

You turned to see that everyone was now on the stage, each of them going backwards and forwards from eyeing you up to looking at a mannequin. 

“Someone who believes that Sam masterminded woodsboro and perhaps Y/n now too.” Gale said. 

“Wait what?” You questioned turning around to face the older woman, shocked at the statement but you cowered back as everyone's eyes turned to you.

“If this were a normal stab movie, this would be the killer's lair.” Mindy explained from where she stood, giving you a quick side eye.

“Which means this isn’t a normal stab movie.” Kirby added.

Tara breathed heavily, looking between you and her sister before storming off. You went to go after her but after a hard look from Sam you realised you weren’t wanted.

You gave a silent nod, tears forming back in your eyes as the back of your throat burned. You could feel your heart rate increasing, your hands going clammy as your breathing picked up. The theatre walls closing in on you. Not being able to breathe, you looked at everyone before you ran out on your own.

Finally getting to somewhere where you could calm down, you placed your hand against a wall and took in a deep breath. You were startled by the sound of your phone ringing and you already knew who it was.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you answered the call, squeezing your eyes shut, you prepared for their voice.

“Y/n, y/n, y/n.” Ghostface tutted. “Walking off on your own, very brave choice.”

“Yeah, well I like my chances.” 

“I wouldn’t get so comfortable.”

“Okay… you’re boring me.” You huffed, taking your phone away from your ear and ending the call.

“Wait wha-”

You shook your head with a sigh, placing your phone back in your pocket before walking back to where everyone was. You saw Gale and Kirby making their way to Sam and Tara so you thought you’d tag along.

The older women both made sure you were okay and with a nod of your head, they knew that you were alright.

“I’m sorry.” You heard Sam whisper to Tara.

“Just drop it Sam.” The younger Carpenter said before walking away from her sister.

“Tara-”

“We’ve got her.” Kirby smiled, motioning to you beside her. 

Sam gave you a look but you walked off with Kirby before she could do anything about it leaving her with Gale.

You found Tara sitting by herself, at the top of the theatre, looking down at the stage all caught in her thoughts.

She heard the two of you coming so you sent her a small smile but you didn’t make your way towards her, opting to stay by the door as Kirby sat beside her.

“How’d you get past what happened to you?” Tara questioned, picking at the skin around her fingers.

“I almost died after I was stabbed.” Kirby said. “Technically I did die. For four minutes. When I recovered I got mad. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life being afraid of monsters. I wanted the monsters to be afraid of me.”

“I like that.” Tara said, clearing her throat before she turned to you. “What about you y/n? You’ve been through this twice.”

“Oh I uh- I-” You struggled, not knowing if Tara actually cared or if she was feeling sympathetic. “I’m the same as Kirby, I almost died but I didn't want to let that determine the way I lived the rest of my life. I mean yeah, sure, it sucked and it took a hell of a lot of therapy to get over my sister stabbing me but I got there in the end.”

The three of you were snapped out of your little bubble when you heard the doors open, Bailey, Sam and Gale walking towards you three.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Bailey said, the two women walking behind him. “But I think I have an idea about how to turn the tables on this creep.”

“Yeah.” Gale agreed. “And we’re in.”

“Sorry Gale, no press allowed.” Kirby said, raising her hands to the side. “Police business. I’m good at my job too.”

“Ooh, she got you there.” You chuckled. 

“Okay, so let's go.” Tara said, finding a new determination in her.

“About that,” you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck, “I’m going to stay with Gale, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.” Gale beamed. 

“No, y/n. We need to keep an eye on you.” Sam said.

“Wha-”

“I can handle myself, Sam.” Gale said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You text or call if anything happens.” Sam said firmly, giving you one last look before walking out with Tara, Bailey and Kirby hot on her tail.

“They’ll come around eventually.” Gale said softly, feeling your shoulders deflate.

“Yeah.” You sighed sadly, kicking the ground by your feet.

“C’mon, what do you want to do?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Take out back at mine?”

“Uh, yeah. That sounds like a good idea.”

The two of you made your way out of the theatre and into Gale’s car. The both of you sat in silence but it wasn't awkward, it was comforting. Your head rested on the car window, watching everything go by as you were stuck in your thoughts.

The journey to her apartment wasn’t long and before you knew it, you were riding the elevator up to her floor.

After Gale unlocked her door, she let you in first. You took in your surroundings and chuckled at how poor you were compared to Gale.

“So this is what it must be like to be really, really rich.” You said, walking into the living room.

“Being a reporter has its perks.” Gale said, giving you a teasing smile.

“It sure does.” 

“I never got to ask you about the attack at Sam and Tara’s apartment, and with everything that happened earlier, how are you?” Gale questioned, sitting beside you on her sofa with her laptop in hand.

“I’ve been better but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You miss her, don’t you?”

“Who, Jill-?”

“No. Sid.” Gale said with a sad smile on her face. “She’s been with you through it all and this is your first time without her.”

“Of course I miss her.” You said, fiddling with the fabric of your top. “But she needs to stay safe, away from here. Away from me.”

“She misses you too. And don't think like that.” Gale said, her gaze on you softening. “She changed her number, I can give it to you if you’d like.”

“I’m not sure.” You said, playing with your fingers.

“Just give me your phone.” Gale said, holding her hand out.

“Okay.” You said reluctantly, placing your phone in her hand.

“Thank you.” Gale said, quickly typing in Sidney’s number before handing your phone back to you. 

“I don’t think I ever said thank you. For everything, back in two-thousand and eleven, last year and now today. So, thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, y/n. I’ll always be there for you, just like Sid.”

“Although you may still see me as a nine year old, I've got your back too.”

“How about, when this is all over, you can come and live with me? Only if you’d like to of course.” Gale said, nudging you with her elbow.

“I’d like that.” You smiled.

“Now, ‘no press’, who does Kirby think she is?” Gale huffed, opening her laptop. “Bitch, last time I saw you, you were in glee club.”

You shook your head with a smile, leaning back on the sofa to get a look at what Gale was doing.

“Forgive me if I don't trust you to keep them safe.” Gale went on to imitate Kirby.

“I’m going to order food, do you want anything?” You asked, opening up your phone.

“Oh, yes please, I'm fine with whatever.”

“Okay.”

You looked through a couple of take out places but ultimately decided on pizza. You placed your order and put on a movie to kill some time. 

After about half an hour you got thirsty so you got up from your spot to get a glass of water, as you were about to ask if Gale wanted one, your phone started ringing.

“Your phone, y/n.” Gale said, looking up from her laptop.

“You can answer it.” You replied, finishing your drink and putting the glass in the sink.

“Hello?” Gale answered.

“Hello, Gale. It's strange that you and I have never spoken on the phone. This is long overdue.” 

“Who is it?” You asked, walking over to the woman as you watched her shoot out of her seat.

“It’s Ghostface.” Gale mouthed.

“Shit.” You muttered. “Give the phone to me.”

“I agree.” Gale replied over the phone, holding a hand up to you as she shook her head.

“I figured after all these years you’d want an interview.”

“I’m going to call the police.” You whispered, picking up Gale’s home phone before walking out of the room.

“You figured right.” Gale said, looking at her phone as it buzzed on the coffee table, Sam’s name coming up as the contact. “So what's your motive this time? You angry at the movies or are you just trying to stay relevant?”

“Well I could ask you the same. Don't you know the legacy characters are disposable now. Nobody cares about last century's heroes.”

“Then why bother with me at all?”

“Call it nostalgia. Or maybe you deserve to be punished for all that money you made off the misery of others. Maybe it's time someone made a buck reporting your death.”

“You know you're like the tenth guy to try this right. And spoiler alert, it never works out for the dip-shit in the mask.”

“Oh but they certainly leave a mark before they go, don’t they? Richie and Amber managed to butcher Dewey, carved him up like a christmas goose. How does it feel to lose the only man who ever loved you?”

“Fuck you.”

“How does it feel to know that you weren’t there for him at the end? Not there to give him comfort as he died screaming in his own guts.”

“You’re the one who’s gonna die screaming.”

“Maybe, but you won’t be there to see it. You couldn’t stop what happened to Dewey. Just like you wont be able to stop what’s coming.”

“Hey, the police are on their way.” You said quietly, running back in the room.

“Is that, y/n I hear?”

“What do you want?” Gale questioned.

“How about you put them on the phone.”

“No chance.”

“Oh, I'd do it if I were you, Gale.”

“Fine.” Gale reluctantly said, handing you your phone.

“Hey, Ghosty.” You said, taking your phone from Gale and holding up to your ear.

“Hello, y/n. How’s it feel to be cut off from the friendship group?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Oh I know everything. I thought you would know that by now.”

“I guess so.”

“Now, how about a game of hide and seek?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m hiding, you come find me.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Because I'll gut you like a fish before you have the chance to step foot out of this apartment!” The Ghostface said loudly down the phone. “So, y/n, let me try that again. Do you want to play hide and seek? I’ll make it easier for you by saying if you’re hot or cold.”

“How about a game of Marco Polo. I think that’s a little more interesting.”

“Or I can go back to the originals and ask, what’s your favourite scary movie? It doesn't work like that, y/n. You play by my rules. Hide. And. Seek.”

“You really are a sick fuck.”

“Cold.” Ghostface said, ignoring you and starting the game of hide and seek.

You sighed to yourself, walking towards the kitchen where Gale looked at you with confusion written all over her face.

“Colder.”

“What's going on?” Gale mouthed.

“Hide and seek.” You mouthed back.

“Y/n, no!” 

“I’ll be fine, just wait here.”

“What’s taking you so long, y/n?”

“Taking a stroll, you impatient fuckface.” You replied, walking back to the living room.

“Warmer.”

You walked back to where you had called the police, and came across multiple doors, one on your left, two on your right and one at the end of the hall.

You opened the first on your right, only for it to be an empty bathroom.

“Warmer.”

The next one you opened was the one on your left, again empty.

“Warmer.”

You decided to go for the one at the very end of the hall but it was empty too, only leaving one door left to open.

As you grasped the handle you let out a shaky breath, pulling it open with speed.

“Bingo.” Ghostface said, ending the call as they jumped out of the cupboard, stabbing you in the stomach.

“Ah! Fuck!” You yelled, holding your stomach as you fell to the floor, the ghostface standing over you menacingly. 

The Ghostface tilted their head to the side, preparing the knife in their hand to bring it down onto your body.

Gale, from the other room, heard your scream and rushed towards you. Stopping in her tracks seeing the Ghostface next to you.

The Ghostface turned their head towards Gale, tilting to the side slightly, looking backwards and forwards from you and Gale. 

Their shoulders sagged, shaking their head as they looked down at your body before speeding their way over to Gale, leaving you to bleed out on the floor.

“Gale.” You shouted weakly, desperately trying to stop the bleeding from your abdomen.

If being stabbed once in one day wasn't bad enough, it just had to happen again. You could hear things crashing in the kitchen along with Gale’s attempt to keep the Ghostface away from her. 

Using all of your strength, you opened a door that led you to Gale’s bedroom. You pulled yourself along the floor and situated yourself in her walk-in closet. 

You let yourself breathe for a moment, looking down at your wound when you let out a small grunt as you applied more pressure, your head slowly starting to become dizzy as you felt your eyelids drooping. 

All of a sudden, the heavy breaths of Gale became closer, the woman running into her walk-in closet and slamming the door behind her, making sure it was locked.

“Oh God, Y/n!” Gale said worriedly, rushing over to you, applying pressure on your wound.

“I’m fine, Gale.” You said, struggling to form a sentence as you looked over to the door where the Ghostface pounded on it relentlessly. 

“No you're not! Oh God! You have to stay with me!”

“Gale, deal with the Ghostface, I promise I'm fine, I just need to catch my breath.” You said, placing a hand over hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Gale gave you a reluctant nod before getting up and opening up a cupboard where inside was a case containing her gun. The case had a lock on it, causing Gale to try a few times before she could finally open it.

Once she had the gun out of the box, she shot towards the door and at the Ghostface and it all went quiet. 

“How’s that for nostalgia, fucker!” Gale shouted, tightening her grip on the gun.

Letting out heavy breaths, you finally thought you were safe but you should’ve known that the Ghostface wouldn’t have given up that easily. The sound of a phone ringing causes both you and Gale to jump.

The older woman looked to her side, where the phone sat, right next to a picture of her and Dewey. Keeping her gun facing the door, she walked over to the phone and picked it up.

“You missed.”

“Sure I did.” Gale replied sarcastically.

“You win, I'm in the elevator heading for the ground floor.”

“Sure you are.” Gale scoffed, making her way towards the door shooting at it once again.

“Maybe you did hit me. Maybe I'm wounded. Or maybe I'm wearing a bulletproof vest.”

“That’s why I’m going to shoot you in the fucking head!” Gale shouted, opening the door.

“Gale no!” You yelled, finding some strength in you to pull you up to your feet. You held onto the wall, walking slowly after Gale, watching as she made her way back into the living room.

“You would’ve made a good killer Gale. Sidney would never have made sense and Dewey was a fan favourite but you cracking under the pressure and turning into Ghostface would've been a great twist.”

“Keep talking, asshole.” Gale said, manoeuvring further into the living room. You couldn't keep up with her, having to lean your back against the wall to catch your breath.

“Mhm, sure.” They chuckled. “What do you wanna talk about? You never got to be the leading lady, did you? It was always about poor sweet Sidney sucking up all the oxygen and what did that leave you to be?”

“The brains and the sex appeal.” Gale deadpanned.

“Sorry for stabbing y/n. Being through all this twice didn’t help much.”

“It sure didn’t.”

The Ghostface didn’t reply, not with words, they just laughed over the phone.

“Can you hold please?” Gale asked rhetorically.

“What?”

Gale took the phone away from her ear, dialling her home number causing a phone to ring in another room. Gale turned around fast, shooting at where the noise came from which was soon followed by a groan and a thump.

The ringing continued as she made her way to the door but as she went to open the door, the Ghostface jumped out and stabbed her in the shoulder. She tried to shoot them but they knocked her gun from her hand.

Hearing Gale let out a guttering scream, you pushed yourself off the wall and made your way to her as quickly as you could. 

You rounded the corner and saw Gale sitting on the floor, her back to a wall as the Ghostface plunged their knife into her side, just like they did to you. 

“Gale!” You said, walking over to her but you were weak, your legs giving out underneath you causing you to tumble to the floor. “Fuck!”

Gale had managed to push the Ghostface off her and she tried to make a run for it but they were hot on her tail. She smacked a vase over their head, but they still got up. 

She ran around her living room, desperately trying to get away but the Ghostface caught up to her. Before they could stab her, Gale flipped them over her shoulder and they smashed into her coffee table. The Ghostface knocked out cold.

Gale looked to her side, seeing you struggle to get to your feet. She made her way towards you and the two of you met in the middle. You laid on your back, staring at the ceiling as Gale sat on her knees applying pressure to your wound.

“You promised me.” Gale sobbed, watching as blood slipped through her fingers. “You promised me you were fine!”

“I am.” You reassured. “I am, now go finish the job.” 

“You better be awake by the time I get back.” Gale said, looking intently into your eyes.

“I will, I'm coming to live with you, remember?”

“Do not close your eyes!” Gale said, crawling away from you and back to the Ghostface. 

She picked up their knife, looking back at you once before she brought it down onto the Ghostface. However, before she could make contact, the Ghostface picked up a shard of glass and stabbed it into her abdomen.

You heard Gale let out a low groan but you couldn't move, a lone tear falling from the corner of your eye. 

The Ghostface took back their knife and went to push it onto Gale’s head but she used all the strength she had left and held the knife away.

“Fuck you!” Gale whispered tiredly.

When you thought the Ghostface was going to kill her, you heard Sam and Tara run into the apartment.

“Hey, fuckface!” Sam shouted, picking up Gale’s gun and shooting it at the Ghostface.

The masked killer quickly got up and ran away, dodging bullets that were firing their way.

“Gale!” Tara exclaimed, rushing over to the woman, Sam following quickly after. 

“Shit! Gale!” Sam said, placing pressure on Gale’s wound causing her to groan. “Sorry. I'm sorry. I should’ve known he was going to come after you, I'm so sorry.”

“He didn’t get me. Tell Sidney, he never got me.” 

“Hey, no you’ve got to stay awake.” Sam said, watching as Gale slowly closed her eyes.

“Y/n.” Gale said, fighting to stay awake but she finally let her eyes drop and sleep overcome her.

“Gale! No, Gale!” Sam exclaimed.

“Shit!” Tara panicked, looking around her. “Where’s y/n?”

Tara spotted you behind a chair, blood pooling all around you as you didn’t move.

“Y/n!” Tara shouted, rushing over to you. “No, no, no, no. Please stay awake. Please.”

“They’ve got terrible aim.” You croaked, a small smile forming on your face as you placed a hand over Tara’s.

“I’m sorry, God I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry.” Tara cried, trying to stop the bleeding from your stomach as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“It’s okay.” You grunted as Tara applied more pressure. “Maybe this proves that I'm not the killer.”

“Even when you’re dying, you still annoy me.”

“You love me.” You smirked. “Even if you won’t admit it to me yet, I know you do.”

“I should’ve believed you.” Tara said, crying even harder. “I do, I do believe you now. I promise, now you’ve got to stay awake, okay? You’ve got to.”

You heard the elevator ding, two paramedics rushing into Gale’s apartment. One going to Gale the other over to you. 

“Out of the way.” The paramedics said to Tara and Sam.

“No!” Tara shouted, trying to stay as close to you as possible and Sam did the same thing with Gale.

You placed your hand on Tara’s arm giving her a look. She shook her head, tears flowing even faster now but you persisted and she eventually gave in.

Tara walked over to her sister, the older girl pulling her into her arms as the two of them watched as the paramedics tended to you and Gale.

“Checking.” One paramedic said, putting two fingers to Gales' pulse point. “We’ve got a weak pulse. Get the back board, we need to move now.”

Sam let out a teary sigh, nodding her head finally calm knowing that Gale was okay but then her attention turned to you. 

Tara couldn't seem to keep her eyes off you, afraid that if she did you wouldn't make it.

You weren't sure what happened next. One moment police officers and paramedics were rushing into Gale’s apartment and then the next- well, you didn’t know.

Everything was white.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter imagines #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega imagines #scream vi #scream 6 #scream

[florence-nomachine]

hello, sweetheart! 💕

I'd love to request you to write smut about Mike Schmidt and f!reader who is a really jealous/possessive type of girlfriend... and once again, when she was jealous of Mike, she decided to punish him harshly for playing with her jealousy :3

have a good day, stay safe! 🩷

A/N: Thank you for Mike ask anon!! Reader is kinda mean in this, but there’s no fun in being nice all the time. I had fun writing this, enjoy! There’s no penetrative sex, but 18+ only.

You loved your boyfriend Mike. He was gentle, patient and hardworking…But he was completely clueless. Sometimes to the point that it infuriated you.

You, Mike and Abby had gone to the mall, looking for some new clothes for the younger girl. Whilst you usually stayed close to them, you had found yourself wandering off to the women’s department across the shop floor, leaving the siblings by themselves. Typically you kept a close eye on them, should it be if they got into a little argument or Mike was a few dollars short, but you had found a lingerie set and a pair of jeans that you simply just had to try on.

When you emerged from the dressing room with the items draped over your arm, you realised that you couldn’t see them in the store anymore. It certainly didn’t help that they were both short, and you found yourself peering and squinting through the mannequins and rows of clothes. Sure enough, once you rounded a display you found them - well, Mike at least, talking to some other girl. 

Fair enough, you thought; but you found yourself making your way over to them regardless, obscuring your body as you buried your head amongst the piles of clothes.

“...She’s going to look so cute in that sweater,” you heard a sickly sweet voice say. You could see that her posture was askew; her head cocked to expose her neck, and her hands fiddling with something below her as she swung her legs. The stupid bitch probably thought she was in a rom-com. “I bet you’re just a great dad!”

Mike chuckled.

“She’s my sister…”

“Oh!” the girl squealed, and you wanted to vomit. Not on your behalf, but on hers. You were rather embarrassed for her. “That’s so sweet of you! My brother never wants anything to do with me…I wish they were all like you,”

“T-Thanks,” Mike said, and you noticed that he was looking around, probably wishing that Abby would come out or that you would find them.

“Do you want to hang out later? There’s a bakery not far from here that I think your sister would love,”

“Oh, what’s the name?” Mike perked up, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I can swing by there some time –”

“-- I get a loyalty discount,” the girl persisted. “C’mon, my treat!”

You’d heard enough. Holding your head high, you sauntered over to the pair, immediately wrapping your hands around Mike’s neck and planting a kiss on his cheeks, not once breaking eye contact with the girl in front of you.

“Hey babe,” you sang, plastering on a fake smile. “Who’s your friend?”

“She’s not my friend..” Mike said bluntly, and you smirked at the girl’s pained reaction. “Just a stranger…”

“Oh, is she bothering you?” you sighed. “I didn’t know they let buskers into the mall…”

“I’m sorry,” the girl scoffed, her brows furrowed in disgust. “Who is this?”

“Yeah, Mike?” you grinned. “Who am I?”

“My girlfriend,” he said. “Sorry, I’m taken,” he shrugged, pursing his lips as he watched the girl deflate. She rolled her eyes and fixed her clothes.

“Whatever,” she said. “Come find me when you want to get away from crazy,” she spat, eyeing you pointedly. You shrugged and rolled your eyes, unbothered by the girl's insult as you watched her gather her basket and leave, but not before calling out to her.

“Hey, can you put these back on the way out?” you said, brushing past her to throw the jeans into her basket. “I’ve decided I don’t need these anymore. I was going to wear them for our date tomorrow, but I think the lingerie is going to be enough. We;re never able to make it out of the house anyway..” you said matter of factly, pursing your lips as you forced a strained smile. You’d come to master the art of nice-nasty.

You strolled back to Mike triumphantly, and he flashed you a crooked smile. Sighing, your eyes softened when you met his own brown ones, and you absentmindedly rubbed his beard as he stared at you, still smiling. It was this fiery, borderline possessive attitude that had made him fall for you initially; given the fact that when you’d met him you’d been giving their Aunt Jane a mouthful.

You placed a gentle, but greedy kiss on the corner of his mouth before whispering in his ear.

“Bedroom. Nine o’clock.”

/

“You’ve been bad, Mike,” you lulled. “I can’t stop you from being around other girls, but you know I hate it when you don’t put up your boundaries…”

Mike nodded, his breaths laboured as he watched you from the bed. He was lying on his back, shirt off and dressed in his sleeping shorts as you slipped off your robe to reveal the lingerie you’d bought earlier.

“It’s not your fault,” you purred, running your fingers up his thighs. “You’re just too kind,”

Bending down to place a sloppy kiss on his lips, your other hand rubbed his chest, making their way down to his clothed cock. You could feel it flat against his stomach, semi-hard and desperate for release. It was such a shame that you weren’t going to give it to him.

Pulling down the material you weren’t surprised to see the organ spring up, clean cut, pink and twitching, just begging for you to touch him. Mike was average sized, perhaps a little smaller, but he’d always known how to pleasure you, (it did take a bit of teaching) just like you were to him. You rubbed your hands in a bit of baby oil, making sure your digits were completely coated before you took him in your hands. 

Mike let out a groan as you began to jerk him off, hands expertly gliding up and down his cock with a firm grip. He nestled his head in the crook of your neck, lazily kissing your collarbone as he focused on the pleasurable sensation, pink lips between his teeth.

With your spare hand you grabbed his cheeks, staring him directly in the eye as you spoke.

“You don’t get to touch me,” you snapped, kissing his lips. “You don’t deserve it,”

“Y-Yes…” he groaned, nodding his head. You hummed in amusement before you resumed your skilful motions, smirking at the way he writhed and whimpered underneath you. His cock trembled as you squeezed his tip between your index finger and thumb, precum coating your skin, which you licked off with ease.

The sweat on Mike’s forehead increased as your pace quickened, fringe clinging to his skin and making pretty patterns. It pained him that he couldn’t touch you, much more give you any semblance of pleasure. He supposed that this was his karma for not stating to the girl in the 

department store that he was taken. Oh well, he thought. Sometimes negative situations had positive outcomes.

He expected you to torture him, but he didn’t expect you to pull out a vibrator. He revelled in your cunning smile as he watched you get off on the mere sound of the object turning on, much more when you placed the nub on his cock. His dick slid out of your hands to lie on his stomach once again, gyrating under the pressure of the machine as you massaged the tool up and down on the ridges of his member. You kissed him, and Mike was fully overstimulated now, hands clutching the sheets as he longed for his release. He knew that you knew that by the way he was pulsating, toes curling and breaths shortening, that he was close.

“I hope it hurts, baby,” you grinned, turning up the settings of the machine. “This is how you make me feel every time you give those sluts the time of day. You need to learn your lesson…”

#florence writes!! #my asks #answered asks #request fill #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #jealous! reader #mike schmidt x jealous! reader #fnaf smut

[iheardarumorthings]

HEY BESTIE CAN U MAKE A BLURB OR SOMETHING ABOUT FIVE HARGREEVES DURING THE FIRST EP OF S3 like yk the one where he saw delores after jayme spits on him and the reader who happens to date him saw it and like "wtf is he doing" and heard the name delores coming out of his mouth and the reader just goes silence after that scene BECAUSE THE READER IS THINKING ABOUT IT A LOT LIKE "is he actually still in love with a mannequin" and like very angsty afterwards but Five confronted her why she's being so quiet after their visit at the sparrows and the rest is up to u :] TYSM IDK ITS MY 1ST REQUEST ACTUALLY AND I CANTTT STOP THINKING ABT S3

ANGSTANGSTANGST

warnings: i think there's swearing, female reader (in my mind, but i can't remember using pronouns), angst. hardcore angst

tags: @mad-elia

PERFECTION

You were both running to get to Allison, his arm was around your waist, the other arm stretched toward the cornered woman. 

“Thanks,” she heaved once the three of you made it to the upstairs. 

“No problem,” Five said.

And then you saw her. She was a taller woman with electric black hair and green eyes. 

He told you guys to go, that he’d handle the woman. While Allison ran, you lingered, hiding behind the wall, watching.

He hit her over the head and she let out a groan of pain. Good. He could handle anything, your boyfriend. You had no doubt he’d be able to handle this easily; after all, he was probably the quickest thinker out of everyone. He could do anything and everything and that was only one reason you were irretrievably, desperately in love with the man.

And then came the spit, along with a hiss bubbling from the woman’s mouth. Jayme, you think her name was. Jayme. It sounded about right.

You wrinkled your nose, much like Five who began to berate her. “Agh! Hey, gross, alright?”

But before he could continue the usual lecture about sanitation, his face went glassy. Sweat built up on his forehead, and he began to walk around almost aimlessly.

“What the hell?” you heard him whisper. His eyes were directed toward the stairs, as were Jayme’s.

You ran out, looking at him, but didn’t touch him. Disturbing people when they’re in a trance could end dangerously, you heard. 

“What did you do to him?” you whispered, but she heard it and only smiled. It wasn’t one of those soft smiles; it was something similar to Five’s smile when he was irked. It was crooked, fake.

“I’m only showing him what he wants, kid.”

“Dolores?” Five whispered. You could feel your heart shatter.

The mannequin; that mannequin that sat with the both of you through the darkest nights of the apocalypse. She was there through everything; he always seemed to choose her over you. Even after you two were together. Dolores this; Dolores that; “Dolores would look good in this, wouldn’t she?”; “Dolores, you’re perfect”; “Dolores, I love you”.

You thought it was over. You thought he was over the stupid mannequin; you thought he loved you, only you. You thought that you two were meant for one another, the stupid soulmate shit everyone preached. But, you could see now, you clung on too tightly to the dreams a little girl would have.

You could see him break out into a smile, a genuine one. “Dolores.”

And then came the italian. 

“Really? Italian? Holy shit. Do you think I could get out of this without fighting you?” you asked Jayme. She raised an eyebrow at you before quickly turning to Five. “I’m way to tired for-”

He began to make out with thin air. 

Well, fuck.

“Okay, I’m just going to go,” you said, holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

You only just turned your back when you heard Five tumble down the stairs.

~*~

“Just gonna sit. I’m just gonna sit for a minute,” Luther groaned.

Your bones were cracking. You could practically collapse right there, plopping down on the top of the bench, lying there, mimicking Klaus on the table next to yours.

“Oh, I’m cracking,” Klaus said, a grit to his voice. You could second that.

“You all good, Klaus?”

“Fine, (Y/N/N), you?”

“Could be better.”

Five climbed on top of the table, sitting on the edge and placing your head gently in his lap. He began to run his fingers through your hair, his rhythm was constant. His love wasn’t. He grazed a cut and you hissed.

“That’s one hell of a cut, Sweetheart,” he mused quietly. You used that as an excuse to get out of his lap.

“I’m fine.”

You could see him flinch- just barely, not enough to catch if you weren’t paying close attention- at the slight harshness in your tone.

Good.

~*~

“CHET! Mon frère! I’d like my usual suite, por favor!” Klaus announced excitedly to the man at the front desk. He was older, his wrinkles prominent, but his hair still maintaining a blondish color that grasped onto hints of youth. 

“I’ve never seen you before,” Chet deadpanned. 

“See? Told you. Discreet.”

“Great job, Klaus,” you giggled; in turn, he wrapped an arm around you and wrestled you into his side.

“Don’t sass me, kiddo. There is such thing as a time out corner, you know.”

The dog’s whimper interrupted the conversation very quickly. 

“Please stop scaring my dog,” Chet said.

“We need some rooms, please.”

“Super.” Chet pulled out a sign with the words only a nightmare could hold. “And how will we be paying today?”

Well shit.

“Fine,” Luther said. “Empty your pockets. Come on; something.”

You dug around in your pockets, finding a dagger and an extinguished cigarette. 

“(Y/N)! Come on, really?” Five scolded.

“As if you haven’t had a cigar before.”

“Condoms?” Luther asked.

“I think you can exchange those for cash,” Klaus replied, causing you to giggle.

“Come on, you two, put the knives away!”

Luther looked around. “Oh, all right,” he sighed, removing his watch. Klaus marveled at it as he handed it to Chet. Examining it, Chet grabbed three room keys.

“Well, let’s Brady Bunch this bitch.”

~*~

Only one room had one bed, so you and Five were assigned to that one.

“Let’s unpack. Settle in.”

“And what do we have to unpack?” you questioned, eyebrow cocked.

“Yes, Darling, isn’t that liberating?”

“Fair enough.”

“Alright then,” Five said. “Let’s fix you up.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

You didn’t want him touching you anymore. You didn’t want him lying to you anymore.

“You know what I mean.”

“Fine. I’ll get Allison in here-”

“Why Allison?” he asked, eyebrows furling. You could see the hurt flash in his eyes. Your heart broke and soared at the same time.

“You know why, Five. I saw everything.”

“Everything? I don’t get it.” He approached you, reaching out. You pulled back. He took another step forward. This kept going until your back hit the wall. He quickly brought his arm up, trapping you there. “I don’t understand. Why can’t I take- what did you see?”

You laughed, but stared at his arm. He was serious.

His other hand made its way to your hairline, brushing it softly. “I don’t understand.”

You recoiled, causing him to flinch once more.

“Sweetheart, we’re done. It’s all over; no more apocalypse, no more nothing. This is it! We can be happy- just… tell me what happened. I’ll fix it. I swear I will. I can’t afford to lose you after everything. I’ll fix everything, I promise, just please tell me what-”

“I saw you making out with thin air.”

“After what Jayme did? I thought I told you to run-”

“I hung back to make sure there wasn’t any funny business.” His arm loosened and you made your exit, walking toward the door. He didn’t jump toward you. He didn’t do anything. He just looked. “Turns out, there was some funny business. You’re still hung up on Dolores.”

“No,” he whispered. “No, (Y/N), I swear to God, I-”

“I heard everything, Five. So, we’re hanging out here for the next few days and then I’m out. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.”

“(Y/N), I love you. Not Dolores, you.”

“I have come second to her after years, Five. Years I have waited for you to come around, and when you finally did, I was stupid enough to believe it was true. I was foolish enough to believe you could actually love me, that someone would actually love me. But, of course, I should’ve known: you can’t get over something so perfect that quickly.”

“You are perfection,” he whispered, tears in his eyes. “You-”

“No, Five. You can’t- I know what I saw. I know what you want, and that’s not me. Now, if you excuse me, Allison will only be available for so long. I’m going to need this cut fixed.”

You walked out the door with tears blurring your vision.

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five x reader #five x you #the umbrella academy #tua #the umbrella academy x reader #tua x reader #tua x you

[poppy-metal]

doing an awkward jc penny photo shoot with jordan 😭

this fits in w fake dating au because u guys hate eachother and have to take coupley photos to promote something and jordan has their arm around your waist and u have to look like you're into it and they lean down, "relax your fucking body, jesus. s'like holding a mannequin."

and you huff. hiss through your blinding smile for the cameras, "maybe if being held by you didn't feel like being in the arms of a rottweiler I'd be more natural about it."

their arm around you tightens before loosening a little, and you sigh in relief because you think it means they'll be stepping back. but then they adjust their stance, till you're facing forward and they're behind you. when their arms glide around your waist they're gentler, more tender. they tug you back against them and you can feel the denim of their jeans press against your cotton skirt.

"there." they say against your ear, lips brushing against the shell so only you can hear. in pictures it'll look like they're saying something naughty, especially with the way your flustered gaze is caught on camera. "happy now, princess?"

you swallow and dont respond.

#ask #sighs #jordan li x reader

[3d-wifey]

And They'd Find Us In A Week - Chapter 7

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 4.2k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! A/N: Thank you for waiting so patiently, Finnick girls! I was able to post this one in its entirety. Extra trigger warning for this one. It's the saddest chapter yet. Don't be scared to click the embedded links, you might get an auditory surprise (Ai voice cloning works wonders)

Past (vii) - You & Finnick

[19 & 20] - THE CAPITOL

You adjust and try to get comfortable on the white chair, but it’s just as unbearable as the last time you were here. You cross and uncross your ankles, pinching the skin between your thumb and forefinger—anything and everything you can to calm down. 

You hate interviews. You’ve always hated interviews. The inane questions, the pandering, the audience hanging on to your every word with ‘oooh’s and ‘ahhh’s . It’s all so fake, so Capitol, but that doesn’t matter to any of them, does it? It’s degrading, alienating . 

A calloused hand grabs yours and squeezes it briefly.

Not too alienating. You have this, at least. You have Finnick.

In the beginning, when you first met, the way he could read you was unnerving. You’ve encountered many people in your life, and you’ve never connected with anyone as seamlessly as you did with Finnick. It’s an incredible feeling to be known so thoroughly, if not a little overwhelming. You like to think you know him just as well.

He leans in to bridge the gap between your two chairs and you mirror him.

“Just breathe and endure, right? Only way out is through.” He soothes. Your lungs feel cool with the breath you take and your hand is warm under Finnick’s. That’s what you focus on, not the three cameras pointed at you or the sea of people soon to be watching you.

“Breathe and endure.” You nod. “Aren't you worried someone will get the wrong idea?” You ask in a hushed tone, a little worried that the mics on your shirts will pick up what you're saying.

"It's not really the wrong idea," he points out and you roll your eyes , "Besides, he’s the only one it would matter to." He nods over your shoulder to Caesar, who’s looking especially orange today. He's too busy getting his face powdered to notice anything happening with his guests. And it’s not like the audience can see you yet.

This isn’t your first interview, but it is your first one with Finnick. You’ve done photoshoots together, movie premieres, after-parties, and more. But this is a first. 

They have him in the closest thing to a suit that he’ll tolerate and his blond hair is artfully coiffed. You miss how it falls naturally, and you’re sure he feels the same. The makeup they put on you makes you feel like a mannequin. Stiff and shiny, just the way they like you.

The cameramen give the signal, and everyone who shouldn’t be on stage rushes off. You sit up straight and Finnick lets go of your hand, leaning back in his seat.

“In five, four, three, two…”

You try not to squint when the stage lights come on. Caesar waves to the cheering crowd, a plastic smile on display.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I thank you for joining us tonight. We have two very special guests.” Caesar claps along with them. “Mhm, mhm, very exciting. They need no introduction. We have two of Panem’s youngest and hottest victors!” You and Finnick smile and greet the masses like you were trained to. You wave your hand open and closed, and Finnick doesn’t wave at all, instead nodding to the crowd. 

“Now,” he starts, then waits for the yelling to simmer down, “I’ll go ahead and ask what’s on everyone’s mind. You two are highly sought after. Finnick, is there any romance on the horizon that’ll break these good people’s hearts?” Of course, he’d direct that question at Finnick. The people, they’re incredibly possessive. Just as Finnick told you, you’re their pet. He can drop the ruse right now and admit that he and you have been dating for longer than you were even aware of, but the two of you have been doing this job for so long that you’re sure Snow would just market you together.

“I’ve–,” cheering cuts Finnick off before he can even start, “Heh, I’ve had the opportunity to spend time with so many extraordinary people, so who knows? Maybe I’ve already met the love of my life.” He artfully dances around the question, yet the room explodes into whooping and clapping. Jesus, is there anything they won’t cheer for? You’d compare them to children, but that would be an insult to the kids.

“Wonderfully said. Well, ladies and gentlemen, I think it’s safe to say these two are still on the market.”

The conversation shifts from relationships and hobbies to the topic of parents. A sore subject for you and Finnick both.

Caesar turns to you and you stiffen at the attention being redirected at you, but force yourself to relax just as fast.

“We had the chance to interview your mother before and during your games, but not your father.” He doesn’t ask a question outright, but you understand what he wants you to answer. What a pitiful beast you are. What else about you can we feel sorry for?

”Sadly, my dad,” was executed, made into an example. Hung in the square while everyone was forced to watch, “passed away.” 

“Very sad, very sad indeed,” the room fills with sympathetic murmurs that make your eye twitch. You don’t need their pity, pity won’t bring him back. Pity won’t stop it from happening to someone else. If they used that same pity to stop injustices before they happened, then maybe these people would actually be worth something, “Alright, let’s get into some games, huh? Yeah!”

Soon, the interview is over and Caesar ushers in the next segment of his show. You and Finnick are given the rest of the night to yourselves. It’s not even thirty minutes later when Snow calls you to his office and it feels a lot like the first time. It usually isn’t like this. You would come in, get your assignment, and leave—sometimes with multiple client cards for different times of the day. Regardless, Snow didn’t typically schedule meetings after you’ve done an interview or a photo shoot.

But, now, you sit before him and he looks at you with the same smile he wore when he took you past the point of no return.

A clock ticks ominously behind you, probably a new fixture. It bluntly cuts the silence. You would have noticed that before. You think.

“My colleagues speak very highly of you.” He pulls a white handkerchief up to his mouth and coughs into it. It’s a wet, violent cough that rocks him in his seat. It must hurt and you know without a doubt that the white of the fabric is blood red now. Good . Hopefully, he’ll cough up a lung soon enough. He dabs at his mouth before pulling it back to his lap, almost like he’s hiding it. “You should be proud of yourself. I certainly am.”

“Thank you, sir.” Your reply is at a level just above a whisper. The tendon in your neck pulses, spasming irritability.

“You’ve come a long way,” he clears his throat, “from the girl you were four years ago.” He gestures for you to stand and you do on numb legs. You want to be relieved that you’re a step closer to getting out of here, but there’s a reason you aren’t an optimistic person. And that reason sits directly before you. 

“I can see you’re getting restless. I assure you, dear, you’ll be free to leave as soon as you finish your assignment.” Free to leave? Leave the Capitol? You haven’t even been given an assignment yet.

“My…my assignment?” 

“Come now.” His smile stretches across his face like a coyote’s, though it’s twice as sharp. You bite at the skin of your peeling bottom lip. “You’re a smart girl. You should be able to infer what’s happening without my telling you.” You do. You had just hoped you misunderstood, that you were being overly paranoid. After all, you have an intimate relationship with hunger, and not just your own. You’ve seen that look before, more times than you can count. On the faces of particularly crooked Peacekeepers, handsy landowners, and ‘well-meaning’ teachers. And now you see it again on the face of your President.

They all have something in common: they thought they were above you and your savagery. They thought you were some animal, that you should feel lucky that they even looked your way.

So distinguished, so self-important, and, yet, they lust after an animal like you? And you’re supposed to be the savage one? You wish you could enjoy the irony.

Wordlessly, you walk around the desk to stand before him. You’ve never been this close to him before and now you know why.

There’s a smell emitting from him. A smell you’ve only smelt in rotting animals: decay. The rose in his pocket and the roses around the room can only cover so much. It’s the poison, it has to be. All the poison he drank while getting rid of his political rivals has finally come back to reap its judgment. He’s decomposing from the inside out. The consequence of having so much power, it seems. 

It doesn’t matter how much makeup or what kind of dress you put on a pig. At the end of the day, it’s still a dirty, stinking pig. You just hope, when the day comes, you’ll be around to see this pig get gutted.

Caesar’s interview ended over two hours ago, and Finnick has been waiting for you just as long. You were both heading back to the Marquis when you were intercepted by an Avox with a letter addressed to you from Snow. It was brief and vague and you promised to meet back up with him in his room within the hour.

He’s getting worried. 

You might’ve fallen asleep or got into the shower. It can’t hurt to check on you though, right? Or, at least, he thinks so until he gets to your door. Your door that’s wide open.

“Star!” He calls, but it’s dead silent. He walks in and presses the button to close the door behind him. It’s pitch black, the only reason he hasn’t tripped is the moonlight spilling in from the opened balcony door.

The balcony was the first place you thought to go after leaving that office. You straddle the railing, your right foot dangling limply off the side. Nothing restraining it. Nothing to hold you back.

From this high up you can hardly hear yourself think, finally. But barely, just barely, you can make out Finnick’s voice. You’ll always be able to recognize that voice. The sound is almost as much of a part of you as it is of him.

“What’re you doing, Star?” He doesn’t yell; he doesn’t want to scare you off the ledge.

“I think it'll feel like flying. Before—” You look down to the street below you. It's so far down you can barely see it. It’s so strange how minuscule something big can look from this high up, all of your problems turned into the size of ants. “I’d like that. To fly, just for a second.”

“Fly, huh?” He edges towards you, “Why, uh, why would you wanna fly?

“Snow requested my company.” He sucks in a harsh breath. Did he hear you wrong? No, what you said is crystal clear. And what Snow’s done is even clearer.

It’s a warm night, but Finnick has gone cold. He doesn’t have the time to think about that, nor the emotional capacity to juggle his bubbling hatred for Snow with everything he’s feeling for you right now. He steps closer.

“You know, in Eleven, we return our dead to nature, to the forests. Is it the same in Four?”

He shakes his head and looks to the ground where your high heels are placed neatly. “We, uh, we do ocean funerals. The friends and family boat out to sea and spread the ashes in the water.” It’s quiet between you, Finnick bites into the meat of his cheek with sharp teeth. He tastes blood.

“You ever wonder where you’ll go after you die, Finnick?” 

"No."

”Some people think your soul leaves your body and you go somewhere else, or it all just cuts to black.” Not that it matters to you. An escape is an escape. “But do you know what I think?”

“No. No, Star, what do you think?” You’ve let him get close enough that he could pull you down if he’s fast enough. But you’re faster than him. All you have to do is let go and—and that’s it. He needs to talk you down, that’s the only option here. There will be no other outcome.

“I think when you die, you become a real star. That’s why there’s so many of them.” That’s what your dad used to tell you. That he’d watch over you in the sky. He must be so disappointed to see his daughter so beaten down. The same daughter he hammered ideals of honor and direct action in the name of justice into just for you to turn out like this. “What about you, Finnick? Where do you think I’ll go?” 

You lift your left leg as if you’re going to turn. Finnick’s heart stops and he doesn’t think it’ll ever beat the same.

“I don’t—I don’t know. Why don’t we talk about that inside, yeah?” His voice cracks as he tries to persuade you down.

“But we always talk on the balcony.” You look up to the sky and Finnick watches you stare at the moon with so much yearning, it hurts.

“Please, just…just come down, Star. Please?”

You look over to Finnick and pause. His normally tan skin is pale, hands shaking as they’re held out to you like he wants to grab you. His chest heaves with the strength of his heavy breaths and his glossy eyes move over you rapidly. You’ve never seen him look like that before. You’ve never seen him look so scared. He’s petrified .  

You hadn’t meant to worry him. You just—you don’t know what you were trying to do. But you did that .

Finnick doesn’t know what he must look like to shake you out of this trance, but he thanks whoever the hell is watching over him that it did. He waits for both of your feet to touch the ground to touch you. The tips of his fingers faintly brush your arm, your chilled skin, before he grabs you. His legs give out from under him and he brings you to the ground with him. 

You’re whole and solid in his grip. You’re safe. God, you’re safe.

“You’re shaking, Finn,” he tightens his grip on you until you’re practically sitting sideways in his lap. Your ear is pressed to his heaving chest as he rocks you both. You can hear how fast his heart is pounding with each shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay. You don’t have to apologize, sweetheart. We’re okay .” His fervent reassurances are the only thing staunching your tears. 

“’M not letting you go,” he mumbles into your hair. Good, you think. You don’t want him to. You’re sure you’d fall apart if he wasn’t holding you together so tightly. “I won’t.” The wind howls past your ears, a sudden chill nipping at any exposed skin. You’re both shaking, but not just from the adrenaline.

You dig blunted nails into the bicep of his left arm crossed over your chest. His grip has to be hurting you, but he can’t loosen it. If he does, what if you slip away? He won’t be able to catch you again. He can feel his heartbeat in his teeth. He doesn’t know what he would have done if he hadn’t got to you in time, if you hadn’t agreed to come down, he–he would’ve—

“Okay,” you wrap a trembling arm around his waist and his jaw aches from clenching it so hard, “Okay.”

Neither of you speaks. Which is fine. There’s no space for words between your bodies anyway.

Present (VII) – Finnick

[23 & 24] - TRAINING CENTER

Snow pulled no punches when it came to keeping you two apart. He even went as far as to never put the two of you in the Capitol at the same time.

Excessive, but smart. The Chariot Rides were a true test of restraint. You were beautiful and alluring, and you were cold like he thought you would be—like you have the right to be. It still hurt to be treated like he was just another victor to you. It wasn’t that he thought you’d tell Katniss your entire history together, but…you couldn’t even look at him. Finnick could hardly hold himself back from going up to you, dropping to his knees, and begging for the forgiveness he knows he doesn’t deserve. He can’t imagine how he would have fared two years back. 

He’s barely managing now.

You and the trainer circle each other on the mat, dual sickles in your hands and a padded staff in his.

Finnick watches you from where he stands on his own mat. He’s never seen you fight before, not really. He’s seen your games, obviously, but they didn't involve much fighting and you mostly survived through stealth and sponsors.

Surprisingly, you make the first move. You slash downward toward his head and he blocks it with the staff, but it leaves his abdomen vulnerable. Something you’re smart enough to slice at. The trainer is lucky he’s padded. Otherwise, a hit like that would have eviscerated him.

You barely duck in time to avoid the staff from hitting your head and Finnick’s grip on the trident tightens. You duck to the ground and roll behind him, kicking at the back of his right leg. He falls to a knee and you’re quick to put the blade to his neck from behind. The trainer taps out and the pride that washes over Finnick is devastating.

“Catch any flies?”

“What?” He turns his head slowly, eyes still locked on you before he tears them away to look at Johanna’s smirking face. He doesn’t like that smirk.

“Your mouth’s been open for a minute now.” She gestures vaguely at her own mouth and his jaw clicks with how hard he closes it. How long has he been standing here? “She’s good.”

He could play dumb and act like he doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but why should he bother? For as long as Johanna has known him, she’s known him in conjunction with you. There’s no point in acting like that’s changed.

“She is.” Surprisingly so. You weren’t a fighter. At least, not like that. In the six years you were together, you never spoke about training or even having the desire to. He would have done it himself if you had asked him to, but he’s really glad you never did. “Who taught her?”

“Maybe you can ask her yourself. You know, once you stop drooling.” His jaw ticks as he spins his trident in a circle over his arm. It’s times like this when it feels very likely she’s only his friend to get away with making fun of him. He isn’t drooling . He’s just—taken aback by your skill and agility and…

You sweep at the trainer’s ankle and he tumbles to his back. You put your knee on his chest, blade to his neck, and he taps out again. Finnick swallows, but his mouth runs dry.

“Good luck.” She pats him on the back with far more force than necessary and walks off with an axe in hand. Probably on her way to traumatize a trainer.

Finnick keeps you in his field of vision while he trains by himself. Sweat drips down his back as he takes a cursory glance at the room. Johanna is doing just as he predicted she would and the trainer is barely dodging her swings. Peeta, Brutus, and Chaff train together at the spear station while Katniss sticks with Beetee and Wiress. Nothing worth looking at twice.

What does get his attention is Mags. She’s heading straight to you and he almost falls out of his stance. The two of you have only met in person once before and Mags loves you. He can’t just walk up to you by himself. With Mags there, she’ll be his crutch. After all, it isn’t her that you hate. He psychs himself up the entire thirty-one seconds it takes to stand before you. By the time he gets there, he catches the tail end of your conversation.

“—Chaff made us train as much as we could, so,” you shrug and gesture with your sickles, “I focused on these since I’m so familiar with them.” The splash of blue he’s expecting to spot above your right hand is missing. In fact, he doesn’t see the bracelet on either wrist. Does he even have the right to still wear his?

“Star.” The whisper is out of his mouth before he can stop it and you freeze. You straighten your back the same way you used to before an interview and turn around. The smile you give him looks nothing short of performative, like he’s Caesar Flickerman himself. It’s just a subtle upturn of your lips and it hurts more than anything you could have said. 

“Finnick. I’m…glad—that we’re on the same side in this. We haven’t been allies in a long time.” Finnick wants to pretend you’re saying you’re happy to see him, happy that you’re doing this together. He knows better. Haymitch said it himself, Finnick is clever and a capable fighter. 

You nod to them both and turn on your heels before he can say anything. What is there to say? 

Mags hums comfortingly and rubs his arm as you walk away from the training mats. He bites the inside of his cheek.

“I’m alright, Mags.” He lies. He lifts the trident. “How about I teach you a few tricks, huh?”

Present (VII) – You

[23 & 24 ] - TRAINING CENTER

More people stay for lunch than you thought they would. Served in a spacious room attached to the gymnasium, lunch is the time people typically try to form alliances. You made none during your first games. Luckily, your allies have already been picked for you this time around. One drops down into the seat beside you, smelling just as sweaty as you probably do.

“You know the plan yet?” She asks, piling portions of ham and potatoes onto her plate.

“Johanna,” you scold, “Not so loud, please.”

“What? It’s not like I’m screaming anything from the rooftops.” She scoffs but thankfully lowers her voice. “Besides, if they’re listening in on anyone, it’s Princess and the Baker over there.” She nods to the end of the table where Peeta and Katniss sit with Beetee and Wiress, seemingly establishing an alliance already. How they’ve managed to win her over is a mystery to you.

You sigh, long and drawn out. You try to think of a way to phrase this. Last night Haymitch told you that you and Johanna have the same task. You were planning on telling her later in a more secluded area, but you should have known Johanna isn’t one to wait patiently by. “We’ll be in charge of protecting Beetee and Wiress.” You say and then rush to cover, “Since we’ve already agreed to be allies and all.”

“God, Nuts and Volts? Why?” She stabs the meat with her fork.

“Because they’re important.” You scowl making sure she knows there isn’t any room for argument. You’re already taking a chance talking about this here. “That’s the main thing we have to focus on.”

“Hmm,” she grumbles, “What about loverboy? What’s he focusing on?” She asks, and you don’t need her to tell you who loverboy is. You peek across the table where Finnick sits next to Mags. 

“No clue.” You pick at the bread on your plate, grinding it into crumbs. The plan is on a need-to-know basis. If Haymitch didn’t tell you, then it’s not important to your part of the plan. “I just know we’ll need to find him and Mags at some point.”

“I saw you two looking pretty cozy earlier.” Her words are muffled around the food in her mouth, but not muffled enough that you can pretend you didn’t hear her. “Did you two kiss and make up, or what?”

You try not to let your eyes fall on Finnick who has been glancing up at you and Johanna occasionally, but it’s where they naturally seem to go. You’ve been trying your best to avoid him. You didn’t need him to talk to you and you honestly didn’t think he wanted to. If it’s because of some kind of fucked up sense of pity or guilt, you would have preferred him just ignoring you.

“No, it’s nothing as simple as that.” Your chair scrapes the floor as Finnick watches you stand. Your appetite is suddenly gone. “You can have the rest of my food.” You offer and she’s quick to scrape your leftovers onto her plate. You’re used to not eating much anyway.

“When is it ever with you two?” She grumbles under her breath. Your hand clenches open and close beside you as you walk out. She’s right. You can’t remember a time it’s ever been simple with Finnick. 

Past (viii)

Dear Finn, 

If you ever fear the weight of my absence—close your eyes, take a breath, and feel me beside you. I’m still here.

-Faithfully,

Your Star.

-

A/N: yeesh, am i right? Johanna is so sick of your shit

#masterlist #catching fire #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #hunger games catching fire #finnick x reader #finnick odair fanfic #hunger games fanfiction #and they'd find us in a week #hunger games #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

[munson-blurbs]

Kinkmas Day 4 (Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, use of pet names, slight daddy kink

WC: 1.1k

A/N: Any Billy fic I write is written with him as a redeemed character who has apologized for and rectified his actions. We do not stan racist, misogynistic Billy in this house.

Kinkmas 2022 Masterlist

--

“Babe, what do you think of this–babe?” You could’ve sworn that Billy was just next to you as you thumbed through the racks of dresses, but he was nowhere to be found. “Billy Hargrove!” you hiss, scouring the department store for your fiancé. He was supposed to be helping you find a new outfit for your family’s Christmas party; you’d managed to bribe him to join you by promising a hot pretzel from Auntie Anne’s, and a little something extra at home.

You figure he’s meandered over to the lingerie section to pick out something for his reward, but he hasn’t made it that far. Instead, you find him gazing at a maroon dress hanging on a mannequin. The only problem was that the mannequin was sporting a sizable baby bump, which you most certainly were not.

“Uh, Billy?” you ask, biting back a laugh. “You good?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he mutters, running a hand through his curls. “What do you think about this one?” He motions to the dress in front of him, brushing over the velvet material.

“I think you’re looking in the wrong section,” you tease, “like, maybe we can check the non-pregnant lady department?”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh, shit,” he chuckles lightly, unwrapping a piece of mint gum and sliding it between his lips. “Didn’t realize.” But he’s lying through his teeth, and you know it–there’s no way he didn’t notice the mannequin’s protruding belly. Still, you don’t have the time to unpack what’s unfurling in his brain, so you grab his hand and lead him back to the correct department.

~

It’s your first Christmas as an engaged couple, so you’re expecting to be inundated with questions about wedding planning. You were not expecting your family to hound you about starting a family.

“First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes…”

“Any plans for a baby Hargrove or two?”

“Babies are such a blessing, you know?”

By the end of the night, you’re exhausted from fake smiling and trying to make up excuses to end the conversations. You flop on your back into bed, still in your clothes and full makeup. 

“That was brutal,” you groan as Billy enters the room, unbuttoning his shirt and stretching. His rippling muscles provide a welcome distraction. “Ooh, shirtless almost-husband. Gimme.” He laughs as you stretch your arms out and make a grabbing motion with your hands, but he ultimately complies.

You tug on one of his belt loops until he climbs on top of you. “All right, doll,” he drawls, “I see what you want.”

“And what’s that?” you question mischievously, letting your lips brush against his.

Billy takes the opportunity to slide his strong hand underneath you, gripping the small of your back as he pulls your hips to his. You can feel him, already half-hard, and you smile before kissing him deeply.

“All worked up from just a little flirting?”

Billy brings his other hand under your sweater, fondling your breasts hungrily. “‘S more than that, mama,” he murmurs into your neck, and you draw back at this new pet name.

“What did you just call me?” you ask, bewildered. You’re used to him calling you doll, sweets, even sugar; but mama? 

“Mama,” he repeats. “Thought it was, um, cute.” He smirks before continuing. “And it sounds like a lot of your family thinks it would be a pretty fitting name, too.”

You roll your eyes and push him off. “Okay, mood sufficiently killed,” you mutter, though it’s not true. The thought of having Billy’s baby stirred up something within you; something you didn’t even know existed. You didn’t think he would reciprocate those feelings.

“C’mon,” he protests gently, running his thumb from your belly button down to the top of your skirt. “Let me get you pregnant tonight.” 

You feel a shiver shoot down your spine at his words, not wanting to believe what you’re hearing. “Billy, don’t fuck with my emotions like that.”

“I’m not,” Billy insists. “I want to see you pregnant with my baby. All round, tits swollen, because I came inside you.” He sneaks a nibble on your earlobe. “Y’gonna let me do that? Cum inside you and knock you up?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer. You should be used to his boldness in bed, but you always seem to be taken aback when he reveals something new. “Give me your baby, Billy.”

That’s all the permission he needs before pulling down your panties and starting to scissor his fingers inside your pussy. “S’wet for me, mama,” he growls. “You get this turned on thinking about me putting a baby in you?”

A guttural moan leaves your throat, resulting from his touch and his words. There are times when you want him to play with you forever, teasing you until you’re completely overstimulated, but tonight is not one of those nights. You only want one thing from him, and you want it bad.

 “N-need your cock in-inside me,” your voice is a whining whisper as you’re clenching around his fingers. 

“And you’ll get it,” he coos, pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. “Have to make you feel good first, right? I still gotta be a gentleman, y’know.” He wraps his lips around your sensitive bundle, sucking harder as your thighs tighten around his head. You finish on his tongue, legs trembling atop his broad shoulders.

“That’s what I’ve been waiting for,” he preens, kissing you so you can taste your pleasure on his mouth. “Now you’re ready for me.” He kicks off his pants and boxer briefs and resumes his position, pressing his torso to yours. His hard cock tantalizingly nudges your folds. 

“Shit, your body is fuckin’ perfect,” Billy groans, pushing into you. You take each inch, feeling him fill you up with each thrust. He brushes your hair off of your face and smiles. “Wanna see your pretty face while I make you a mommy.”

The coil in your belly tightens, signaling that your second orgasm is iminent. “Fuck, Billy,” you whimper, bucking your hips into his, “‘m gonna cum. Want you to cum with me, please.”

He pistons into you, biceps bulging as he grips the sheets for support. “‘M cumming, too…all for you…you gotta take it all f’me, mama.” 

“Yes, daddy,” you pant, and you feel his sticky release coating your walls as his thrusting slows. He’s breathing heavier than you are, but he stays inside you, unmoving.

“Don’t want any of it coming out,” he explains. “Tilt your hips up for me a bit…thassit,” he praises you, tucking a pillow underneath your ass. “Wanna make sure it takes.” He withdraws with a hiss.

You bite your lower lip suggestively. “And what if it doesn’t?”

Billy settles in bed beside you, placing his big hand over your belly like there’s already a baby in there. “Well, I certainly don’t mind doing this every night.”

--

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x female!reader #billy hargrove fanfic #stranger things #billy hargrove stranger things #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #kinkmas 2022

[lily-orchard]

Iris and Kiera - Stare

Alicia watched with concern as Iris stared off into space. Not once did she acknowledge anyone or respond to anyone. She just kept staring straight ahead.

For years it was the same with Iris. Unresponsive, uncommunicative, you could have been forgiven for thinking she was dead most of the time. She barely responded or reacted to anyone, and stonewalled anyone who tried to talk to her.

The lone exception being Kiera. Whenever Kiera sat down with them, it was like someone had flipped a switch and Iris was expressive and gestured emphatically.

Alicia got up and moved away from the table, finding Kiera still in line to get lunch. "Kiera, your sister's creepy."

Kiera scoffed. "She's not creepy, she just doesn't like you."

"Why wouldn't she like me?"

"Because you call her creepy every day."

"Because she's always just staring into your soul!"

Kiera rolled her eyes. "You just don't know how to talk to her. She's just fine with me."

"You're the ONLY one she's fine with! Everyone else it's trying to be around a mannequin," Alicia scoffed. "I get not talking but does she have to just sit there unblinking and unresponsive?"

"She can do whatever she likes," Kiera said, paying for her lunch. "If she doesn't want to open up to you, that's her perogative."

"She doesn't open up to anyone, Kiera!" Alicia scoffed. "She can sign, we all know she can, but she just doesn't!"

"Again, she signs with me," Kiera said. "Have you ever considered that maybe you're just not easy to get along with?"

Alicia scowled and then put on a fake smile. "Have you ever considered that maybe your sister is a little-" she mimed a guitar motion with her hands. "Ring-a-ning-ning-ning-ning-ning-ning-ning."

In one solid motion, Kiera flipped her soda bottle upside down, turned and cracked Alicia across the side of the head. "Bitch," she sneered before taking her lunch and heading to Iris' table.

Iris looked up when Kiera sat down and smiled.

"Hey," Kiera said. "Alicia wasn't giving you any trouble, was she?"

Iris shrugged and wiggled her hand.

"Oh good, just me then," Kiera sighed.

Iris arched her brow.

"Nothing, Alicia's just being a busybody. Saying nasty things about you."

Iris tilted her head.

"Not sure, it could have gone either way," Kiera sighed, turning a weak smile to her. "Don't worry about it, though. Just Alicia being a bitch like she always is."

Iris' brow furrowed. Kiera's eyes widened at that and she placed a finger against Iris' lips.

"Hey! None of that talk! It's not your fault Alicia's being weird," Kiera said.

Iris smiled. Throughout her entire life, she'd been hauled in and out of doctors and counsellors by her fathers, trying to find the root cause of her lack of speech. Everyone from her parents, to her teachers to her peers tried to get her to talk, or sign, or write on a board. Anything other than simply be quiet and be by herself. She didn't understand it. It's not like she was bothering anyone. It had only made her less willing to interact with others.

Kiera was the lone exception. Kiera could always infer what Iris was thinking, never asked her to do anything she wasn't comfortable with, and actively intruded on people trying to force words out of Iris' mouth. Everyone else wanted Iris to make herself easier to understand. Kiera was the only one who tried to understand her as she was.

She reached up and laid her hand on Kiera's shoulder and gave her a big, bright smile.

Kiera smiled back and patted Iris' hand. "Love you too."

#vignette #Iris Morgan #Kiera Morgan #tw - ableism #Iris and Kiera

[ronearoundblindly]

Threadbare (2)

Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader

Part Two: Strain Curve (see previous or series)

IMPORTANT: I forgot to mention and link that this started with an anon ask, so I should give them credit for the idea. Here's where this all started! Additionally, Richard Fisk is an actual Marvel character and the son of Kingpin. All that is straight out of the comics (and animated shows), down to the horrible color choices.

Summary: Steve shelters you from Fisk while attempting to hide the truth from Tony. He's not a great liar...but how much of this is really fake?

Warnings for fluffy fluff of the 21st-fluffery with a teeny bit of angst, 100% idiots in love! Also a quick disclaimer about me knowing exactly diddlysquat about fashion design. I binged 'Next In Fashion' and so this is the best I got lol... WC 4066

You watch Steve blush at your attempted smile. He paws at the back of his head before gathering another confession.

“Actually, I do have—I mean, yes, I wanted to see you, but uh—“ he rushes over to fetch a paper bag he must have stashed as he snuck in behind the cops “—I did have a reason to come.”

In the bag, you find three shirts, and your smile turns more genuine.

“Of course, you did. How romantic.”

You’re still awash with adrenaline; there’s no filter to keep your teasing at bay. You can barely pick up that you said anything anyway.

Steve shrugs, looking down to take back the shirts as Abby returns with a glass of water for you. “Not my best move.”

You chug the water, loudly, unable to regulate how desperately you need it. Abby gently pries Steve’s shirts from his tense arms.

“Right.” Steve rolls his shoulders out, straightening and clearly falling into Captain mode. “We need to get you somewhere safe. I just have to make a few calls and—“

“Don’t tell Stark,” you blurt, hand instinctively grabbing the wrist that holds his phone ready. “I’m sorry. That sounded like an order, just…please don’t tell Mr. Stark.” Tony can’t know that Fisk has been using you as a tailor as well. He can’t. 

Alarm and curiosity flicker behind Steve’s blue eyes, but he hides it well immediately. “Ok. I’ll—” he makes no move to take his arm back “—think of something.”

“And I have three clients left…for the day.”

Abby tsks you from behind though it’s the truth. The empty glass rattles on the tabletop with your faint tremor.

Steve thinks for a prolonged, squinting moment. “After work then. I’ll pick you up.”

You run off adrenaline and butterflies the rest of the day, and yes, whatever liquids or snacks Abby and Dominica (when she returns from her errand) put into your hand along the way, but mostly it’s the fluttering anticipation of Steve that floats you through.

And then he’s back and it’s already dark outside.

“Oh shit,” you burst, politely showing Mr. Chen out while Steve waits his turn to get in the door. He says nothing, but Captain America lowers his head in disapproval at your curse. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time. Let me grab some things.”

You race up the stairs to the apartment over the shop. Your clientele and brand used to be small enough that you could keep those two sides of life separate, but slowly, your work has crept into your living space. Now you survive from a dresser, a hanging rack, and a Murphy bed that doubles as a small desk when it’s upright against the wall.

Not much of an existence, but it’s very practical.

You’re shuffling around with an overnight bag and a dump tote to grab mostly work things and two changes of clothes. One of your assistants can bring you more stuff if/when necessary, but it feels presumptive to think you’ll live out of a safe house for long.

“So…working to live or living to work?”

You jump at Steve’s deep voice from the open doorway. He looks around at the hodgepodge of work benches and mannequins lining the walls.

“It’s a fluid and evolving situation,” you admit, sweeping several binders of fabric swatches and sketch pads into the tote. You eye a work-in-progress on one of the dummies and decide against trying to take it. Too bulky.

In order not to keep Steve waiting, you hand over the tote and head to the car, texting Abby and Dominica instructions the whole drive. Steve assures you that you’ll still have wifi and freedom to communicate, so you don’t have to clear fittings and consults off the books. It simply won’t be wise to invite welcome clients into where you’re staying.

Admittedly, that’s very generous considering you could have been looking at a blackout, witness-protection level of hiding.

You’re still on your phone when Steve opens your car door, and you shuffle with your duffel, his feet at the edge of your periphery to follow. It doesn’t register that you walk down a long hall. It doesn’t register that there’s an elevator ride and another voice. It doesn’t register that you’re looking at a kind of hostel-esque apartment inside another building until you ask if there’s a space you’ll be able to spread out for work.

Steve glows with pride that he thought of that and walks you to a conference room…surrounded by glass…overlooking a 30-story high view of the city.

You’re in the Avengers Tower, formerly Stark Tower.

“Wait, he’s not supposed to know.”

Steve gets your confusion right away. “Tony doesn’t, but without filing paperwork stating the reason you need a safe house, this was the best—“

“Sheers!” the booming voice of one Tony Stark reverberates across 360 degrees of windows. “I thought it might be you.”

“Might be me for what?” you ask as innocently as possible.

“As Capsicles’ first, of course.”

Steve hangs his head while his pal claps him on the back.

“First use of his guest pass that is. Granted, I’ve been saying for years we need an in-house tailor, but no takers…” Stark fake-punches Steve’s shoulder. “Way to break the ice, buddy. I’m proud of you. What happened? You noticed you’re both workaholics and needed your girl…closer to get closer, did you? Good call.”

Steve shoots wary eyes your way, silently praying you ignore that remark or maybe checking you’re okay with the implication. The way Stark says ‘your girl’ as if he’s heard it several times before though…

“Something like that,” you shrug. 

“At least he finally asked you. I kept telling him to shit or get off the pot.”

“Language,” you hiss quietly.

The men look a little shocked for a split second before slowly turning to each other, a silent conversation passed in the empty space over your head. Whatever just happened seems to have really convinced Tony because a wry smile flickers beneath his sinking, pale sunglasses. Yes, of course, Tony Stark is wearing sunglasses at night, just as, of course, Captain America is willingly deceiving Stark to be your fake boyfriend. 

“Romeo,” the building’s namesake coos. “Training them young, I see.”

Steve’s jaw and neck tighten, a raging flush creeping up his pale skin, but he doesn’t argue. Stark buys the ploy, which is great, but in reality, Steve doesn’t even have your personal number.

Tony lifts his hands in surrender and starts retreating to the door. “Look, I hate to take credit—“

“No, you don’t.”

Incredulous, sagging eyebrows dip below his frames. “—but I am very, very good.” He points a finger back and forth between you and Steve. “You’re welcome.”

He tries to peek under a pile of sketches atop your work tote, and you rush to slap your hand down. Stark might see the other designs you’re working on, and just like he can’t know about Fisk, he can’t know about those.

“Fine.” Tony puts his hands up again. “I’m going.”

Steve steps to your side, apology loud in his eyes, and asks if he can make you tea or something stronger, ya know, because Tony has that effect on people.

“Yeah—“ you stare off toward the elevators where Stark remains lurking “—he’s still there,” you whisper.

Steve huffs a laugh and shifts to bridge the mere inches left between you, his hand gently landing on your upper arm and planting a kiss on your forehead like a breeze.

“Better make it look good then.”

Turns out you need tea and food.

You’d been so reliant on your assistants for nourishment that you forgot dinner. Steve sees; he has it covered. Instead of winding down after a trying day, however, you get a rush of energy, and you can’t squander the chance to make crucial adjustments. Every minute counts in the lead-up to Fashion Week.

“May I join you?” Steve asks, ready to walk away with his meal in hand should you prefer. “I won’t take up much space.” He looks down at his shoes and up the two inches above his head to the top of the doorframe. “Ok, much more space,” he corrects.

“You wanted to leave me alone?”

He bites back a smile and shakes his head, settling into the least cluttered corner.

He chats excitedly as you both eat, but after failing to pry some answers about Fisk from you,—‘are you often threatened by clients?’ and ‘can you steer him in another designer’s direction?’—Steve slips away to grab his own art supplies.

You’ve barely looked up until you get a surge of inspiration and search for your colored pencils under the pile of templates. How did they get all the way over there? Since when are red and grey so worn down? Weren’t you needing to replace both blues soon?

“Those in your way? I can move them?”

Steve stops sketching, holding a yellow pencil, the only color missing from the tin. That’s when you realize. He uses the same brand of pencils you do—tools made of quality materials but nothing overly fancy.

“No need,” you marvel. “I just mistook them for my own.”

Steve sweeps a large hand out in offering. “Mistake away.”

You can’t help it. You chew your lip to calm your grin. He’s simply a very giving man who enjoys simple things. It’s refreshing.

“Or we could trade? We seem to use the opposite colors the most.”

“Right,” Steve laughs, “I went on a tear trying for Sam’s suit in-flight. Never turned out.” Shaking his head dislodges a lock of hair, so he runs his fingers through the strategic coif.

“Hmm,” you hum absently, engrossed by his picturesque appearance, “my drawings are more like guidelines for my imagination. No need to be precise.”

“A sentiment I’ve heard many times before.” He slides the tin closer to the midway point between you. “I just want to do beauty justice, which sounds pretentious but…

“Point is—“ Steve lifts his gaze to you with a soft shrug “—use whatever you like.”

You thought your work habits were grueling, but poor Steve flits around at all hours of the day and night with workouts, training, meetings, and missions. He mostly gets to do drive-by waves of ‘hello’ as he travels the building past your glass bubble, always with a smile, always with a tinge of something else. He’s an easy man to read: you can tell when he’s fatigued (in spirit though, not body), you can tell when he’s irritated from stress, and you can tell when he wants to linger but has to go.

It’s incredibly cute. Steve Rogers is just so damn cute.

You continue with business as usual as best you can, video calling during consults and the most critical fittings. Clients aren’t exactly happy with your absence, but they don’t dare complain when the alternative is waiting another month for you to schedule in person. Besides, there are oftentimes you step away from routine appointments to focus on creating new lines.

Dominica is allowed to walk right in with any of your requested supplies since she’s delivered to Stark several times before. She stays for a few hours to touch base. She assures you that Tarik is no longer unnerved by the police car that sits at the curb outside the atélier’s front door. Apparently, Abby takes the cops coffee a couple times a day.

All in all, it’s going well.

One day, you think Steve is showing up for one of your ‘sketch sessions’—where he sits in his own chair somewhere around the huge oval table and quietly works alongside you—but not today.

“They…it’s…” Steve plants his feet on the carpet across from you and looks behind him nervously. Anytime other people are near the room, he walks right over to you to kiss your cheek, a show to keep up the appearance of actually being a couple, but it’s late enough that no one is around. “We do movie night—we’re doing movie ni—we’re watching a movie if you’d like to join?”

You’re tempted to tease him, ask ‘where’s my kiss’ or something that makes that fiery blush creep up Steve’s face, but you grin back. “Sure. I could use the break.”

Honestly, no, you should be hammering out some details for the lapels of this blazer, but ehh, you’re also tired of staring at the same damn jacket.

Of course, this means the lot of them save you and Steve seats beside each other on a couch. You two have only ever sat in chairs in front of or separated by a table, so figuring out how to curl up next to the man you are not dating is an adventure in micro-expressions. You share a look that lasts about two seconds but contains a forty-five-minute discussion of how far is okay to take this and agree that you want to keep up the charade.

Thus, Steve lifts his arm to drape across your shoulders, and you lean into his chest.

It’s a good fit, good enough that you wake up two hours later not knowing what the movie was about and starting to sweat from being so close to his very warm body.

Maybe it’s the eye convo or maybe napping directly on him tells Steve how comfortable you are with him, but either way, he changes to giving a kiss on the cheek or forehead every instance he sees you, no exceptions.

After a week of remaining on the same floor of the same skyscraper and doing nothing but working, sleeping, and movie-sleeping, you’re at your wit’s end, longingly staring out the window at the city below.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asks as he enters the conference room. Forehead kiss this time. His lips feel soft and warm as they ghost over your skin.

“Stuck,” you mutter.

His hand smooths across your back. “Well, how do you normally get unstuck?”

“I go for a walk through the park.” You know you can’t go outside, but it’s difficult to wrangle every bit of bitterness at your captivity. You appreciate all Steve is doing to make it so Fisk can’t get to you, but you need fresh air.

Steve sighs like he’s mad at himself before spinning around the room. “Right.” He grabs your hand. “Come with me.”

In the elevator, Steve explains that in keeping with the eco-friendly intent of the new clean energy tower, Tony made half of the rooftop a greenhouse and the other half a garden. The walking paths are all moss-covered, but there are no benches. Just outside the elevator doors are folding chairs, and Steve grabs two.

On separate chairs with no table in sight, you two watch the sunset on the other side of the building from your work room. You take in a big breath of the chilly air and shiver, completely content to experience freedom away from climate control, but Steve rushes back into the greenhouse to retrieve a blanket from the stack beside the chairs.

“Here ya go,” he stumbles, leaning to tuck the fabric around you. “I should have brought us tea or something,” but when he makes to leave this time, you take his hand.

“You’ll miss it.” He’s probably seen the view from here a million times before, but you don’t want him to go. “Stay,” you say in a whisper.

Steve visibly softens, shoulders dropping, eyes alight. “Yeah?” He sits again and looks at the nearly cloudless sky. “Yeah.” He slouches to get comfy in the small and unsupportive chair, but he looks so at home bathed in the warm pink light. “Each time’s a bit different but—“ he turns to you, smiling “—this one’s better.”

Since the sunset sit-down, Steve makes a point to pry you away from the work area when he has time to hang out with you. The couch isn’t actually far away from the conference room, but it does mean you get to sit together, your feet in his lap while he reads a book, listening to his commentary on the author’s points or sketching aimlessly for fun.

The whole thing feels like a bizarre vacation, some alternate reality where your home life intersects with superheroes. Tony Stark may have been a sometimes-client, but he never let you attempt anything more custom than a three-piece suit. 

You’re not complaining; it’s just weird that Captain America is so average when his uniform comes off. He sinks his face into his palm when he’s sleepy. His yawn is outrageously adorable for how big the man is. He absently holds your ankles steady in his lap when he shifts on the cushions. His eyelids droop, and he repeats paragraphs when he can no longer keep his place on the page.

Steve Rogers could not be more normal, and for this reason, you find him extraordinary.

He gets dressed every morning while you’re there, no sweatpants, no workout wear—or, what did Sam call it? Athleisure? That’s not a word, right?—except for when Steve is actively working out. He thinks it’s too on-the-nose to wear your designs in front of you for days on end, but that limits his options significantly, considering how much of his wardrobe sports a Tovarich label. Good jeans and a black sweater will have to do because today he’s playing model.

It seems the mannequin Dominica hauled in for you isn’t close to the right proportions for your client so Steve volunteered, rewarded immediately with a gorgeous, toothy smile that made his heart thump against his ribcage.

Steve’s chatty but can’t help it.

There was one conversation a few days ago that unlocked so many memories he thought he’d lost.

While he peeked at a few of your sketches, you asked him about clothing in the 40s, and he took your notepad to doodle a bit. Steve drew a common dress from memory to show you girls he grew up with, the pleats and cinches in their exact spots because—now that he has your full and rapt attention—he thinks it’s important.

He’s had to recall maps, battle maneuvers, building layouts, and evil plans more times than he can count; no one’s ever asked him how his mother styled her hair or which shoes she wore to work at the hospital.

They’re just shoes, but Steve sat misty-eyed describing how Ma tied her laces a very specific way, the way she taught him to, the way he still ties them to this very day. He hadn’t thought of why in so long, and ever since, little details keep flooding back.

“Buck used to never tuck in his shirts,” Steve laughs as you nudge his arms higher to check his range of motion in the shoulders. “He’d fix the front half and leave a tail out in the back.”

You chuckle at that. “Unacceptable for proper ol’ Stevie,” you muse.

“No, it was not—“ he drops his head in shame “—and I’d remind him every time.” Steve spins, prompted by the pull of your hands at his waist. His face is on fire, but he promised to help you. He just has to ’suffer’ through your touch, he supposes.

How horrible…

“Sharp dresser, were you? Not a hair out of place?”

“Yes, ma’am, or…at least for my size I was.”

You’re deep in thought, pulling the bottom hem to check how it lays at his hips, checking the lining before buttoning him up. “These might be too flashy,” you mumble. “Gosh, I hope he likes this color.”

“Why not? It’s stunning,” Steve jumps too eagerly at the chance to praise the barely purple fabric. It’s that kind of illusion hue that might look black, navy, or its true shade in different lights.

“And the buttons?” you prod.

He tilts one of the stamped, dark nickel rounds to see the embellishment. “I’d consider that a signature touch of the Tovarich brand,” he beams.

Your elation is contagious until an ear-splitting alarm sounds overhead. You’re so startled you spring backward into a rolling chair and topple to the floor.

Steve scrambles to help you right yourself while the wailing screech continues, but he knows that noise.

Emergency.

He has to go.

You’re holding your elbow, flashing him a thumbs up, and Steve feels terrible yelling to ensure you’re okay.

Agents race past the glass walls, and he really has to run so off he goes, jacket still on.

An incredibly long seventeen hours later, Steve is returning to his room only to notice you’ve fallen asleep at the conference table. He’s pleased there is no bandage on your elbow, so the fall was no worse than bruising, but he refuses to leave you there.

Slowly peeling your face and hands from your drafting paper, Steve wrestles your flopping arms and limp legs into a solid hold to carry you to your own room.

You don’t wake up, not fully, only enough to grip the shoulder strap of his shield harness as he gently lowers you onto the unmade bed. Luckily, your MO is to kick off your shoes when concentrating on work, so once you release the leather attached to him, he pulls the covers over you.

He kisses your temple. “Night, Button,” he whispers like a secret, and for now, it is.

You simply sigh and turn deeper into the pillow.

Steve purposefully finds you at breakfast to ask if you’d want to get lunch with him. Yes, it would just be in the cafeteria on the lower levels, and yes, you two have already shared many meals, but in his mind, this is the actual ask, the question of ‘will you go out with me’ instead of just ‘are you hungry at this reasonable time and may I be hungry in your vicinity.’

It’s stupid, he knows. He’s anxious for your answer anyway.

Steve has a very love/hate relationship with having you essentially trapped in the Tower. On the one hand, you’re starved for interaction and the choice of your surroundings. On the other hand, he gets you all to himself. He’s ashamed of how much he enjoys that perk. Somewhere deep inside, he hopes whatever Fisk is after is never resolved, but that’s wishful—and terribly selfish—thinking.

Just in case going on a deliberate date with him isn’t offer enough, Steve can return your client’s jacket. He hung it in his locker when changing into the tactical suit. It’s safe, but he’ll get it after his debrief. That’s a good excuse. That’ll work.

You’re happy and excited, only making him more nervous, but it’s progress. He’s done ‘round noon after the long meeting scheduled to start in, yikes, fifteen minutes, and you quickly agree. Steve floats on cloud nine, bouncing his foot until dismissed so he can rush back up to you.

He isn’t expecting to see Tony in your bubble.

“You don’t know me, Stark. How dare you!” Your face twists in fury. “Screw this,” you shout, frantic in grabbing your essentials from the table. “I don’t answer to you. I don't need this. Someone else will get my things.”

Steve doesn’t understand why you won’t meet his eye or speak to him as you barrel past. He’s too stunned to follow you to the elevator, it feels imposing to race down and corner you in the lobby, but he marches up to Tony with wide eyes.

“What the hell happened?”

Tony waves him off, cagy and dismissive, rushing off upstairs to his lab, and Steve almost asks if this is about Fisk. If it’s not and he blabs, then you’ll definitely be angry at him. If he grills Tony too much, there might be something that gives away that Steve lied about having a significant other as his guest for two weeks. If Steve admits that he doesn’t even have your number, the jig is 100% up.

But he knows you have his number, he knows he still has a jacket you’ll want back, and he knows one thing he’s incredibly good at.

So Steve waits, ready to apologize, ready to grovel, ready to yell at Tony for whatever. He is just ready and waiting.

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @darsynia

[Next Part]

[Light Masterlist; Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #fashion designer!reader #threadbare #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america fluff

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Charlie Walker - Sinner in the store

warning : heavy smutish, no sex, use of Y/n, minors don't read, kissing, some biting, handjob male reciving and a sexy nun outfit

Summary : It's Halloween and this special night is nothing without the right costume and some excitment mixed with the fantasies of Charlie of his girlfriend in an unholly outfit.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~

Halloween was coming up and the group of friends at Woodsbooro High had planned something special besides the usual movie marathon. Something special that would surpass the annual Stabathon for all of them. A horror show with its own scary cabinet of the extra class put together to give the younger ones who were also taking part a huge scare.

They had specially converted the farm with all the rental mannequins, spider webs, axes and lots of fake blood. Everything was perfectly prepared and everyone was mighty proud of themselves, rewarding themselves with a beer before the troupe set off in the direction of the city centre.

Not always paying attention to the road due to the fun and alcohol. But it didn't matter, the evening had already begun and the pumpkins were already glowing everywhere. The only thing missing for them were the good old bad Halloween costumes.

Of course the extra sexualised version, otherwise it wouldn't be any fun. ,,So who wants to be the slut cat?" asked Kirby and held up a tight leather outfit with matching collar and small golden bell.

A comment came from Robbie but when Kirby held the outfit out to him he quickly fled to find his own outfit. ,,Y/n what about you?" the blonde asked and held the outfit out to the girl of the same age, the other eyeing the fabric carefully. ,,No thanks...I had something more along the lines of chastisement in mind" she replied and gave Charlie a meaningful look who was standing next to her.

The brown-haired man seemed to have already fixed his bright eyes on something other than the cat outfit. Kirby seemed to understand and shrugged her shoulders before grabbing Jill and disappearing into the rows with her.

Y/n also grabbed Charlie's hand tighter before pulling him behind her. She saw his blue eyes flit from one outfit to the other, embarrassed yet taken. The slight blush on his cheeks made her smile. Just cute she thought before arriving with Charlie in front of the wall of partner costumes.

She let go of his hand and began to look through the costumes, one dirtier and more erotic than the other. Whether it was the princess and her knight, the queen and the king, the cowboy and the barmaid.

Or simply the policeman and the criminal. Costumes they had all seen before, they wanted something at least half new. ,,Sweetie say the policeman or the teacher?" she asked, holding up the two costumes.

Expecting an answer, a line or a joke, maybe just a look, instead he had taken a few steps away from her. He seemed to be looking through the racks and his eyes were fixed on one outfit.

He seemed to have forgotten everything around him and when she saw his fingers tangled in his shirt she knew that a visit to this shop was an excellent idea. Hanging the outfits back, she quietly walked over to hers, stood behind him and slowly let her hands wander over his body. Feeling her pull him out of his thoughts he flinched and looked over his shoulder.

As her fingers moved from his neck over his torso to his hands. ,,What? Are you all right?" he murmured, confused and curious, as if he had missed an important conversation, but at the same time trying to hide the fact that he was perhaps pulling his shirt over his middle a little too revealingly. ,,How outrageous in public," she whispered to him and giggled as he lowered his gaze to the floor.

He knew she had, had seen him when he had used his fantasy to imagine her in one of the outfits. Following his gaze before he looked down, she smirked audibly.

She let go of him and grabbed the outfit he seemed to want to see on her. ,,Shall I put it on?" she asked, seeing the brief nod before she walked towards the relatively large changing room. She could hear him following her, nervous about what was to come.

But when she pulled the curtain closed and heard a puzzled noise from him, she said hastily, ,,Don't worry, your heart will be ready in a minute," before just putting the costume on. She would buy it anyway so she might as well put it on now. Getting out of her jeans and t-shirt, she briefly looked at her body in the mirror.

Seeing the bright blue eye peeking through the slit, she took a small look at her naked body before he hastily jerked away from the slit as she winked at him. ,,I see you Charlie" she murmured and continued to pull on the costume which clung perfectly to her body, revealing every contour, curve and nuance.

Not to mention the low cut on her bust and the top that only just peaked over her backside. ,,Come in, my sinner," she announced and saw the curtain open as Charlie stood in front of her. He was almost pressing himself against her because of the limited space. But Charlie didn't seem to mind when he saw her in the nun's outfit.

The dark veil on her hair, the short tight dress with the white corset which only made her breasts stand out even more. She was his holy woman just as he had imagined only better. ,,My-my heart...I am your-you are beautiful" he mumbled and fiddled with the velvet of his shirt nervously but obviously taken with her.

Trying not to hide the red on his cheeks, he lowered his gaze reverently. But she tilted her head slightly and continued to penetrate his field, listening to him whimper with pleasure as her upper width bumped against him.

She seemed to enclose him in her sanctity. ,,What a filthy sinner you are spying on me what?" she asked seeing his slight nod and the hastily muttered ,,Yes" before she ran her hand over his cheek. She felt him put his cheek in her hand, wanting more from her after she had irritated him on and off throughout the day. He had been so patient for her, pulling back with every kiss and being such a good boy.

Moving away from him as much as she could, she sat down on the small chair that was supposed to be for the clothes and smiled contentedly as he knelt down in front of her, stifling a groan. His long curly brown hair in the light gave him an almost angelic look.

Beautiful. ,,Say, do you confess your sin? That you are full of lust and lascivious?" she asked quietly in the little homemade beige chair, knowing that someone could come in at any time. They could catch them doing what they were doing, but one look at his middle let her know that it seemed to be exactly what he wanted.

Moving closer to her he nodded willingly confessing everything the words just kept flowing from his lips as he kissed his way up her legs making her beauty clear with each successive kiss.

While her fingers ran through his dark curls, tugging lightly and praising him, knowing that he would walk out of this shop with an orgasm and a collar with a bell. ,,Such a good submissive for your mistress," she quipped, knowing that doing such an unholy act in a church would probably turn her on even more. ,,Just shameful and you would do anything," she continued, only seeing the brief nod before she pulled him up to her by the hair.

His hands clung to her hips, lightly squeezing, wanting to touch more of her, wanting more, just wanting more. But the pain she gave him was enough to make him groan.

While she moved the tip of her shot to his middle, squeezing lightly and watching him lean his head against her torso. ,,Please-please don't," she murmured over and over, his hips moving slightly to get more of the arousal. He wanted more from her. Her finger tucked under his chin, forcing him to look up at her, but all he saw was his goddess.

His goddess who could treat him as she pleased. Instead, it was divine for him alone to know that he was loved, that he was needed. That they had each other, that she gave him attention. Before she pulled him into a deep kiss, heard his sigh of relief and he pressed further against her.

Before she pulled him back by the hair a throaty moan of thanks came from him the redness on his cheeks darkened as she kissed her way down his neck leaving a bite. The bites of the possessed None, the bites of Satan. The bites of her love.

With each passing moment, his excitement grew as he wanted more and more, and the indistinctly fledgling words just spilled from his lips. At one point he almost cried out of frustration. ,,Look at you," she said and rose from her chair to stand behind him before she pulled him up slightly by the shoulders and he wanted to press himself against her again.

But she reached around him and grabbed his jaw forcing him to look at himself in the mirror while her other hand went to the bulge in his trousers. She reached into his trousers and ran her hand over his boxer shorts while she continued to stroke his cock.

His hips thrust towards her and he rested his head on her shoulder as he continued to look at himself in the mirror. ,,Such a good boy," she whispered to him, hearing the whimpering before she continued to push him to his limits as the first tears slowly began to form in his bright blue eyes and only unintelligible words came from his lips.

She felt the twitching of his cock in his underwear and knew that he was getting closer to his climax. ,,Y/n, Charlie! We're about to go buy some more booze!" they both heard the voice of Kirby who seemed to have finished with the others.

She had noticed how Charlie had flinched, afraid they might come in. That their friends discovered what they were doing. ,,Not so scared sweetie...tonight I promise you are all mine" she whispered and placed a soft kiss on his cheek as she slowly turned away from him. Running her fingers through the dark curls one last time, she heard a dejected sigh.

Before he let out a ,,I'll take care of you, I promise" and gave her a sincere look before she went out of the changing room and chose a white lie for Charlie, which took him a little longer to get his clothes right. But they both knew that all their sins had not yet been confessed.

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

@icarus-star , @shady-the-simp , @roryculkinsgf , @spookyorchid , @paranormalfool , @thatsthewrongwallcraig , @angelsanarchy , @milaeth , @madamemaximoff06 , @ria-coolgirl , @cc-luvr

#charlie walker scream #scream 4 #charlie walker #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x you #charlie walker x y/n #scream movie #rory culkin

[j-u-u-z-o]

Do. Not. Disturb. (Isshin x F.Reader) NSFW‼️ 18+

AN: Hey guys! It’s been quite a long time since I’ve written a fic! This has been in my drafts for almost two months and I finally edited it. I hope my writers block ended cos’ I’ve been coming up with new ideas for my next works as well! Anyway, this was fun to write. I really like this hairy shinigami. I hope I executed this perfectly. Enjoy~ ❤️😩

Synopsis: the title says it all. Will you be able to get through it all and quietly??? Let's hope you do.

Like, comment or reblog would be greatly appreciated! 🥰

⚠️WARNING: 18+, NSFW‼️, DO NOT DISTURB!, Oral (f.receiving), smut, GRAMMAR.

Read my warning or I’ll slap you.

✨Also, there’s an extra if you make it all the way to the end! ✨

_______________________________________________

It’s 10:02pm and you and your husband are on your way home from a dinner date. A surprise dinner date that Isshin planned, in fact. You two have been married for two years now and he is still head over heels for you - ever since he met you at Karen and Yuzu’s high school, for parent-teacher conference.

You looked out the window - admiring the night sky and neighborhoods passing you from inside the car.

“How was the food, honey?” Isshin asked, making a left turn to the house. You turned to look at him, “It was so delicious, ish’. The curry chicken over miso ramen was the best in my opinion!” You clapped. “Especially the jazz performance…also…”. As you spoke, isshin hummed in satisfaction. He loves hearing your voice. It sounded like you’re singing softly to him. “Hmm. You should’ve went on stage with them, hun.” “No way!” You giggled. “You know i have stage fright.” You pouted, caressing his free hand while he drove in the direction of the house. “I know but you would look so angelic on the stage. in front of me, especially.” He smirked, turning his head to you. “Just know… that I’m always here for you, honey.” He said, signaling a right turn and driving into the neighborhood, to his shared home.

Isshin pulled up to the driveway and parked.

“I had a great time, though.” Isshin mumbled, putting the gear in “park” and then turning his head to you. You looked at him and nodded. “Me too.” The driveway light illuminated across your face - your eyes looked starry under the fake moonlight. Isshin sighed. He can’t get enough of your beauty. “I’m glad.” He said, caressing your check with the back of his hand.

You both walked to the front door. Your hand held on to his. Isshin pulled out his keys to open it. “Thank you for the surprise date, love.” You said softly, leaning your head on his arm and you looking up at him. “Anything for my lovely, wife.” He responded, leaning forward over to leave a kiss on your forehead while turned the door knob. “I love you, y/n.” He whispered. You smiled softly at his endearment and held his hand tightly. “I love you too.” You whispered back.

Before he opened the door, he wrapped an arm wrapped around your waist and asked, “Downstairs or upstairs?” You giggled at the sudden request. “You choose.” you said, stepping into the genkan of the house. His fingers dug into your waist, lovingly. “Hmm…Downstai-“

“Oh. hey Dad. You’re late.” Karen waved at him, nonchalantly - while sitting on the couch. “Hi Y/n.” She smiled at you. You reciprocated and greeted her softly. Isshin’s blank face looked like he fell off a ladder. You walked to Karen and saw Yuzuru sleeping on her sisters lap. “Hi, yuzu.” You whispered, stroking her hair. She looked adorable while in sleepy land. You noticed that isshin hasn’t said anything. You turned around, “Isshin?” He still stood there like a mannequin.

He blinked. And blinked again. “Wha- ahem. it’s passed your bedtime young lady. It’s almost 11pm.” He tried to sound like the adult in here but failed. “And I should be the one saying that.” He referred to Karen’s earlier comment, putting his hands on his hips. “Isshin.” You called out softly. His eyes glanced at you. “It’s only Friday. Karen’s football practice starts tomorrow afternoon.” You reminded, walking towards him. “Did you forget?” You looked up at him. Your dowey eyes weakened him. Isshin frowned a bit and sighed. “They can stay here for another hour.” You smiled softly, raising a hand to stroke his covered chest. “Good.” You spoke, turning to Karen. “Would like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” You asked, Karen nodding while watching whatever was on the screen.

You walked into the kitchen.

Isshin followed you to the kitchen and helped you gather the items. “You’re siding with Karen, now?” Isshin said, trying to hold back his grin. You spread the peanut butter across the bread before you said, “No. Let them be.” Isshin stood next you and eyed you softly, wanting to listen to you more. “Besides, we still have our…free time.” You said, focused on putting the loaf covered with jelly on top of the other and then looking at him. He hummed in amusement, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “You’re right.” He kissed you right cheek.

Minutes passed and you walked into the living room and you gave Karen the sandwich and put the other one for Yuzu, on top of the coffee table. Isshin waited for you by the steps as you bid them goodnight. He gently took your hand in his and walked upstairs - leading you to the shared bedroom. You felt lucky to be with someone like him. His hand is always in yours, showing you and everyone else that you are his and he is yours.

Isshin closed the bedroom door behind you and gently placed his hands on your cheeks. Instantly, his lips met yours, slowing wrapping them around yours, passionately. You raised your hands to grip his wrists as he kissed you. His lips felt warm against yours. “Mmm.” You moaned while his tongue danced around yours. The slow deep kisses went on for a while until he reluctantly broke the kiss. “Now. Time for dessert.” His thumbs caressed your cheeks, turning you around and walking you to the bed.

You sat down on the end of the bed, watching your husband kneel down on the floor. He pulled you down closer to the end of the bed, spreading your legs apart, and moving your feet to either side. You’re didn’t say anything, You just followed his ministrations and pushed up your skirt; anticipating what’s to come. You pushed the heels of your feet deep into the mattress to keep them from slipping off the edge of the bed.

“Someone’s eager tonight.” You giggled, leaning back on your hands, watching him below you. He chuckled, “Well I was worried that I wasn’t going to get my dessert.” Isshin said, stroking your inner thighs, slowly. You hummed. He leaned forward and kissed your covered pussy. You felt his lips wrapped around the covered nub and kissed it again. The wet sounds of his kisses against the fabric started to make you hot.

Isshin continued his task until a big wet patch was formed on your panties. You felt the wet patch and moaned. He then swirled his tongue and you gasped when you felt the pressure of his tongue bump your clit. “Ooh.” Your moans echoed in the room. It almost. You hummed when he flicked his tongue slowly against the material, with enough pressure. “Ahh…Isshin.” You hissed, squirming against the appendage.

Isshin kissed it once more before he placed his fingers on the waistline of your panties and pulled it down. He threw the forgotten fabric away in the room and grinned at your puffy pussy. “So pretty.” He mumbled, using his forefingers to open your lips and then leaning closer to leave gentle pecks around it.

Your short breathes goes unoticed and isshin stops to look up at you. “You okay, honey?” He asked, rubbing your inner thighs. You nodded. Isshin was already turning you into a needy mess: your lips already wet and needy from his earlier ministrations.

He knows.

Isshin moved up to kiss your needy lips while his fingers rubbed your pussy in circles. You whimpered in the deep kiss as you slowly pushed your hips up against his hand. You felt the tingles of your folds rubbing against his warm and rough fingers. “Ahh..” you moaned in his mouth, your clit throbbing each time it bumped against his fingertips. He broke the kiss and moved down to leave open mouth kisses on your neck and down to your chest.

His fingers circled your clit with enough pressure until one of them teased your entrance, while he sucked your nipples. “Ooh Isshin.” You stroked his hair, your body leaning forward to his ministrations. “Mmm.” You groaned, watching him move down to spread see your lips opened like a watered flower. “Look at that.” He praised, his fingers exploring your folds. You twitched when his index finger slowly flicked your clit. “So beautiful.” he smirked, slowly sticking out his tongue and leaning in closer to your pussy.

“O-oh!” You shuddered, his thick tongue began licking your clit and down to your cunt. Again and again. You stroked his hair around as you watched your husband. The wet sounds from his tongue flicking your clit filled the room with your deep exhales. “Feels so good, Ish”. You whispered, his groans vibrating on your folds. Your hips jolted when the strong appendage licked side to side. “Oh fuck.” You whispered out, breathing heavily.

“So delicious, honey.” He spoke, eyeing his work done to your pussy for a moment. Rubbing your folds. Isshin leaned in again and open mouthed kissed your pussy. “Oh yes.” You said thickly, your clit throbbed from getting all the attention from his warm lips. Your head fell back and you kept giving him whispered praises while he mouthed and swiped your clit. “Right there, issh.” You praised him when he sucked it, gently. He looked up at you when you leaned back and pushed your hips up to his face slowly. Your shaky moans sounded like a melody in his ears. “Oh yeah, i-ssh-ah.” You breath hitched, your eyes rolled to the back of your head each time he circled your clit.

His bristly facial hair added fuel to the fire. It rubbed against your thighs. You raised your right leg and placed it over his shoulder. You bit your lip when isshin pushed his head deep in your thighs - his mouth exploring more of your cunt. “Ugh.” Your head fell back again. You’re in pure bliss in this new position that you rolled your hips against his mouth.

“Mmm.” He groaned, moving his head side to side while mouthing your pussy. Biting your lips, you closed your eyes and focused on his tongue exploring your cunt. The wet sounds coming from his open kisses on your cunt bounced off the walls as his saliva dripped onto the blanket. “Oh!” You gasped, his tongue kept circling your clit. “Issh-!” You rolled your hips as he circled his tongue your clit. “Fu-.”

Knock

Knock

“Dad? Y/n?” You both looked back at the locked bedroom door. Isshin’s almost snapped his neck. You froze, your heart sunk deep in your stomach.

Was Karen standing in front of the door the entire time? Did she hear you? Or rather…did she hear Everything?!?!

You mind was racing with questions. On the other hand isshin was still looking at the door. You can see his glistening mouth from your arousal. “Yes, Karen? Is something wrong?” He asked, still remaining kneeled on the floor. As if nothing happened. On the other hand, you’re going through the a mix of emotions right now. Especially, in your current position.

“Yuzuru wants oyakudon. Can you help us make it?” She asked. Isshin looked puzzled. You tried to hide your laugh because he was a little taken back. He was eating you out. “We’re sleeping. I’ll make it tomorrow night. Go eat cereal.” He said, licking his lips. “Pleeeeeaaasssse?” That pleading voice came from Yuzu. He sighed and turned to you. You tucked your lips in and shrugged. You really don’t know what to say. “Fine. I’ll tell you the recipe. Grab a pen and paper.” He said, leaning his head on your thigh.

Your tilted your head and raised an eyebrow. “Really?” You asked, looking at him in disbelief. isshin smirked. “Anything for my girls.” You rolled your eyes “that’s not what you said earlier?” You reminded him, poking his forehead head with a finger. He chuckled and kissed your inner thigh. The two girls came back and were ready to take notes.

“Okay. Step 1….” Isshin started giving out a couple of instructions and you just sat there, trying not to shake your head and laugh. He occasionally stroked your thighs to not forget where you both left off. Which helped because you were so close to wail and squirt in his face. The cool down was worth it. But you were still in utter disbelief, comically.

“Good. Now, let me know how it goes.” He turned his attention to you and chuckled. “What?” He asked, smiling at you. “You know what.” You giggled. “You’re unbelievable.” He chuckled at your response. “Now, where were we?” He said, stroking your right leg on his shoulder.

~~~

The pans being used downstairs in the kitchen were ringing in your ears as well as wet squelching noises that filled bedroom. “Oh baby.” You breathed, pushing the back of his head to your heat when his tongue gets deep into your folds. You hissed, pushing your hips right into his hot mouth to get his tongue to dip into your cunt.

“Ugh. right there isshin don’t sto-.” You said thickly, riding his tongue a bit quickly.

“Daaad!” Yuzu called out, her footsteps running to the door.

Isshin almost sucked his teeth. You didn’t even hear her come upstairs. You’re deaf, you thought to yourself. You were going to stop the session and go help them but isshin gripped your thighs to keep you from moving away. He looked at you. It’s your turn now. His eyes told you. You sighed before you said, “Y-yes, Yuzu?” you answered, trying to not sound breathless when isshin continued to eat you out. “Where’s the soy sauce, y/n?”

There was long pause. You watched your husband tongue you just right that you lost your train of thought. At least it didn’t seem odd. You needed time to think about where the sauce is located, anyway. “It’s… on the shelf…next to the fridge.” You successfully answered. “Okay!” She ran downstairs, and told Karen to grab a stool.

Not being able to form coherent words, you nodded at how good he’s swirling his tongue on your clit. Your legs were trembling from the intense pleasure that’s overtaking your bod. You watched him as he slowly bobbed his head in between your thighs while his mouth was wrapped around your clit. The sucking sounds made you throb. “Like that, ish.” You whispered, your nails lightly scratching the back of his head to keep going.

Moments later, you heard giggles downstairs in the living room. Hopefully it meant that the food is cooking and that they’ll leave you two alone for a while. Your thought process was interrupted when isshin flicked your clit feverishly. You raised your hips from the bed and bucked into his mouth. His hot tongue on your clit sparked a fire in deep in your stomach. “Oh my god…oh my -“ you cried, the heel of your foot digging in the back of his shoulder when you bucked into his mouth. The mattress springs creaked from the way you rode his tongue.

You heard the twins ran upstairs to their bedroom. You can hear them talking about the next soccer match. Of course they had to leave their bedroom door open!

Isshin purposely slurped your cunt loudly that you grabbed the back of his head to shut. him. up. He chuckled, lifting his mouth from your pussy. “You know ~I always love how mindful you are.” He joked, licking his lips. “Isshin! Stop being childish!” You whispered loudly, looking flustered above him. “But this is our free time, no?” He continued, his fingers digging into your thighs, lovingly.

You rolled your eyes. “Be nice.” You warned, trying to sound like the only adult in the room. “Yes, my lovely wife.” He said, raising himself and spreading your legs further. Your back met the cool sheets. “Let me finish my dessert.” He reminded you, chuckling while he got a better view of the mess he made all over your pussy. “Just hold on a bit longer for me, honey.” He said, leaning his head down to your pussy. “Unh..! You cried, gripping the bed sheets. He wrapped his lips around it, sucking it slowly. Isshin moaned while latching onto your clit and licked it side to side in the same pace. “Oh Yeah..” you whispered, your hand combing through his dark hair. Isshin stroked your thighs in circles with his fingertips, slowly. making you shiver.

~~~

The girls are downstairs eating. You can hear the chopsticks hitting the ceramic bowls Meanwhile, your head is raised up, watching him circle your clit, endlessly. Your mouth is wide open, unable to form any words. You cried. You’re close to release. “Isshin.” you whimpered, squirming under his strong grip. You just want him to finish this sooner. You might get louder if he doesn’t. “Ah! Isshin!” You called out again, he’s not listening to you; he’s flicking your pussy, lovingly.

Your back arched of the bed and your legs began to tremble. You let out another cry but he kept going. You’re trying to keep your voice down; your hand pushed his head down and you started bucking your hips against his mouth. Your moans sounded like your were stuttering. Isshin moved his hands up to your knees from underneath and pushed it deeper in the bed. “Ahh…!” You cried, shutting your eyes - you pushed your head back in the bed as your feet dangled in the air.

You rode his face all the way to your release until you squirted on him. “Good girl.” He chuckled, watching you squirm below him. Your toes got a cramp from the uncontrollable clenching. “Oh god.” You said, your chest heaving. Isshin leaned over and kissed your lips. His thick tongue swirled around yours to taste yourself. “Had fun?” He asked, massaging your thighs. “Oh shut up.” You let out a breathless laugh as your fingers combed through his hair.

Isshin continued to leave kisses on your neck while you turned your head to check the time, while stroking his hair. “It’s 11:04pm.” You said, turning to look at the man above you. “Don’t worry about that.” He said, leaving on across your chest. “What do you mean?” You raised an eyebrow, staring at the ceiling. You heard the daughters laughing at something on TV. “you promised them 1 hour.” You reminded him.

Isshin stopped and looked at you. “They’re still downstairs. Let them be. Remember?” He said. You blinked at him for a moment. “Besides, we’re not done yet.” He added, wrapping your leg around his hip and stokes it.

“Eh?” You eyes widened.

Isshin chuckled.

Extra:

Yours and Isshin clothes were scattered around the room. Heavy breathes and skin slapping echoed in the room. Isshin pistoned into you roughly but slowly in the bed. You're trying to be quiet but his cock kept stroked your plush walls; rubbing your g-spot that you moaned a bit loudly every now and then. His arms were folded above your head for good measure while his hips pushed you deep in the bed.

Your sweat covered back is on the plush sheets of the bed as it quietly creaked in rhythm. Your knees are by your chest as isshin rolled his hips, lovingly. He looked at you with all the love in the world while you held onto his shoulders. All coherent thought leave you as you stare at his glistened face, your eyes are hazy as you try to make out his face.

"Fuck." He moaned, spreading his legs a bit more as bucked roughly into you. You both moaned into each other's mouths. "Yeah baby, pull me in." He groaned, breathing into your mouth."Yeah like that baby." He praised, he felt you your walls hug his cock. Your deep breathes fills his ears. "You like that, huh." He mumbled, his pelvis rubbing your clit. You’re still unable to speak as you rolled your hips up to meet his deep thrusts. Isshin kissed your forehead and circled his hips to feel more of you warmth. “Mm." You moaned, moving your hands down to his lower back to push him deeper.

“There. Right there, issh.” you praised, your legs dangling in the air when he changed his pace. “Ahh.” You moaned, closing your eyes. Isshin chuckled and hid his face in your neck, focusing on how good your pussy is hugging his length. You forgot about Karen and Yuzuru. Are they still awake? Your mind is trying to figure it out but his deep thrusts is making you feel so drunk. Still trying to be mindful of the kids, You’re tried to not breathe too loud when he hit that spot again. And again. “Unh. Issh-” you cried softly.

The sounds of skins slapping each other and the bed creaking bounced off the walls. You felt his deep exhales on your neck. Isshin raised himself to look at you. His wife. You can’t see him watching you. You’re in full bliss. Your body rocked to his pace. Your breasts responding to his thrusts made him studder in his thrusts. You look so beautiful below him and you’re in pure bliss. He stopped his strokes and stayed still - feeling your plush walls squeeze his length, lovingly. “Mmmm.” He moaned, he stayed still for a moment. You whined. “Issh…keep going.” You begged, rolling your hips up. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your lips. “I know, I know.”

His tongue danced with yours while he thrusted deeply into your core again. The wet strings of your arousal sticked to his pelvis each time he thrusted into your soaked cunt is. “You hear that, honey?” He broke the kiss, listening to the wet sounds of your arousal welcoming him each time he thrusted into your core. “So wet for me.” He praised, rewarding you by rolling his hips to hear some more. The pit of your stomach heats up and coils - your walls started throbbing. “Oh god.. yeah.” You moaned, grabbing his ass and your feet dug on his knees from underneath.

“Good girl.” He praised, raising himself up again and gripping your waist. He began bucking into your cunt, feverishly. The squelching sounds gets louder and mixed with both of your moans. While being mindful of the kids. Your head pushed back into the pillow along with your hands on either side. “Good. Take me in .” He said thickly, his hips meeting yours, quickly. Isshin rubbed your clit to help you until you and him reached each other’s release.

~~~

It’s past 1am.

Isshin woke up and put on his pajama pants. He was going to use the bathroom and then get a glass of water. But before doing that, he opened the twins bedroom door and didn’t find them there. “Hm?” He went downstairs to look for his daughters and He found them both sound asleep on the couch. He chuckled as he took the two bowls from the coffee table and put them in the sink, and then turned off the TV.

“Let them be.”

End.

#i finally finished it #bleach #bleach imagines #bleach x you #bleach tybw #bleach x reader #bleach x y/n #isshin kurosaki #isshin shiba #bleach isshin #manga #anime #bleach headcanons #isshin kurosaki x reader #bleach smut #bleach fandom

[kbandtrash]

I Don't Dance (I Know You Can) (Hoshi x Reader)

~Rachel~

Masterlist

You're hopeless as a dance trainee, and dance teacher Hoshi isn't sure that teaching you will be worth it for either of you in the long run.

Content: dance teachers!Hoshi and Minghao, enemies to ?lovers?, Hoshi yells at you and apologizes, a general feeling of hopelessness about life, fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

“No. I’m done. I can’t stand her,” Hoshi huffed. “She makes no improvement and she can’t see what she’s doing wrong. I’m done, Minghao. If you want to keep her on, then you take her.”

Minghao smiled wryly. “If you can’t teach her, then no one can.”

“I don’t need to waste my time on a student that’s going nowhere.”

“But I do?”

“That’s why I’m saying we need to drop her!”

“Oh that’s very growth mindset of you,” Minghao drawled sarcastically. “I thought we believed in the potential of every student.”

“I did. I really did.” Hoshi sighed. “But there is something wrong with her.”

“I don’t know, when I sat in today, I noticed she’s actually pretty good at keeping with the beat. Her limbs are like tree branches in the wind, but they’re always in time.”

Hoshi cocked his head. “That is true,” he admitted.

“And her hands are very graceful.”

“Yes,” Hoshi agreed.

“Her facial expressions are pretty natural, too.”

“Yeah, she got that from vocal training.”

“She just got a late start,” Minghao said with a shrug. “If you keep working with her, she’ll be a pro in no time.”

“Yes!” Hoshi exclaimed, pounding his fist into his hand. “It’s not that she’s bad, she’s just inexperienced.”

It was that easy every week. However, the truth remained: you hadn’t a dancing bone in your body. Minghao just liked to watch from the sidelines, and if you ended up getting dropped, he wasn’t sure when he would find his next favorite source of entertainment.

—

“My favorite student!” Hoshi welcomed you warmly to your private lesson.

You glanced at Minghao in the back, who gave you a wink and an okay sign. “My favorite teacher?” you returned uncertainly.

“Did you review the steps we learned last week?”

You nodded energetically. “I made sure to practice every day in front of a mirror like you said.”

“Good, good!” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s start with our warm up moves.”

You moved almost like a mannequin, no fluidity in your joints. Hoshi kept his temper in check, and offered you some suggestions.

“Like this?” you asked, repeating the same clunky motion.

Hoshi smiled only because he had no other expressions left. He modeled the move. “Do it with me slowly.”

It was incredible how intently you watched him and how poorly you managed to perform on your own. If you did get it right once, it was usually pure luck.  You apologized over and over, to which he responded through his teeth with a fake cheerfulness.

When it came time for you to leave again, Hoshi managed to keep his cool, even told you that you did well today! You both knew that was a lie, but you also both knew you were giving this your all. There was just nothing to show for it week after week. For you, it was disheartening, but for him, it was infuriating.

“You did well today,” Minghao complimented Hoshi. “You didn’t even raise your voice once.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Hoshi whispered dangerously. “I’m going to snap.”

Minghao smiled and prepared his next lecture on positivity.

—

“Get out.”

“Hoshi, I told you—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said, looking you directly in the eyes. “You’ve wasted my time for too long.”

“I’m trying so hard!” you begged. “I promise I’ve been practicing every day and I felt like I had made improvement!”

“You’re just as miserable as the day you walked in here. We need to reconsider the future of your lessons with us.”

“Hoshi,” Minghao interjected. “I didn’t want to bring this up again, but we’re getting paid twice our usual rate from her company.”

“It’s not worth it anymore,” Hoshi said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know why you bothered trying to learn if you had no talent to back it up.”

“I don’t know either!” you fired back. “I just wanted to sing and play my instrument, but the president said I wasn’t worth anything if I couldn’t dance. Guess he was right.”

You stormed out of the room and grabbed your bag on your way out. Minghao could have sworn he heard you choke back a sob as the door closed.

Hoshi immediately felt hollow inside. He had never messed up like this, and there was no way to take back his words. It wasn’t that he really believed you weren’t worth the time, but he had never had a student learning this slowly, or this late in life, or…

…It was all excuses in the end. No matter how frustrated he got, he shouldn’t have snapped in your face.

He squatted on the floor with his head in his arms. “Why did I do that…?” he mumbled. “I’ve never…never talked to anyone like that before.”

“I don’t know, but you need to apologize immediately,” Minghao said, standing up and pointing at the door. “Go and find her now.”

Hoshi looked up at Minghao through his arms. “And what am I going to say, that what I said wasn’t true? I’m not going to keep lying to her about any potential she has.”

“Are you stupid?” Minghao said exasperatedly. “She thinks she’s worthless because she can’t dance. She can’t dance, that much is obvious, but she’s not worthless. You get your butt out that door and tell her that.”

Hoshi stood up again and started pacing. “If you know what to say, then why can’t you go and say it?”

“I’m not the one that just told her she wasn’t worth my time.”

Smashing his head into the floor seemed like it would be a better option. Hoshi felt terribly guilty, but apologizing to your face felt like lying to you. Agreeing to keep you on also felt like lying to you. He felt more guilty about lying to you about your dance potential than about hurting your feelings.

He still stomped out the door to try and follow you anyway. His head swirled with words that he was supposed to say, but still felt like lies meant to satisfy you temporarily. Wouldn’t it be best for you in the long run if you quit?

You really hadn’t gone far—you hadn’t even left the building. He should have known that you would have to wait for one of the trainee managers to come pick you up, and the lesson wasn’t supposed to be done for another ten minutes. You were sat on the floor in a hallway to the side of the main route to the entrance.

The light of your phone screen, too close to your face, gave you away. He could see you were staring at a message you hadn’t quite sent yet, and he could also see the drying tear tracks down your cheeks.

“You’re not worthless,” he said, and you flinched as he sat down next to you. He noticed you quickly lock your phone and hide it away from him. “I’m the worthless one if I say something like that to one of my students.”

“No, I’m just deluding myself,” you said dejectedly. “I’m not sure why I thought I could make it in this industry if I couldn’t dance.”

Hoshi scrunched his mouth as he tried to think of something to say that both made you feel better and didn’t make him feel dishonest. He kind of agreed with what you said, but he couldn’t say that. “Dancing isn’t everything,” he shrugged. “Half the trainees these days only know how to dance, and they can’t hardly hold a pitch.”

“At least they can learn to rap. There’s no replacement for dancing.”

You needed to stop saying things that were true, or Hoshi was going to have to leave you in your misery. He gulped. “You have your visual going for you, at least, right?” he tried.

That was a weird thing to say, apparently. You looked at him like he had said that summer wasn’t hot enough. “I’m not supposed to be a visual.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Could have fooled me,” he said as nonchalantly as he could. 

That was weird. He definitely thought you were supposed to be a visual, maybe even above vocals. Now that he tried to remember why he thought that, he realized no one had told him—he’d just assumed. It wasn’t personal bias, was it?

“Maybe you should just switch companies,” he suggested. “But you shouldn’t give up on your dream.”

“No one’s going to debut a girl band,” you said. “Or a soloist who can’t dance.”

“So why are you trying if you don’t think anyone will debut you?”

You looked away from him, in the direction he thought your phone might be. “That’s what I’m asking myself, too.” He didn’t say anything, and you waited long enough to feel awkward if you didn’t keep talking. “Why can’t I just give up and move on?”

—

“It’s too tragic, Minghao,” Hoshi lamented from the floor of the studio. “Who ever said you had to dance to be a good musician?”

“Public opinion,” Minghao answered succinctly, scrolling through his phone from the chair in the corner.

“And that’s the only thing that matters?”

“Uh, yeah.” Minghao blew a stray hair out of his face, not looking up from his phone. “That’s kind of the whole point of the entertainment industry.”

Hoshi turned onto his back, now spread-eagle. “That’s dumb.”

“And? What are you going to do about it?”

What was Hoshi going to do about it? He couldn’t do anything about public opinion, he couldn’t do anything about your dancing skill, and he probably couldn’t do anything about your company’s opinion, either. There wasn’t really anything he could do.

Hoshi took too long to answer, so Minghao finally glanced up from his phone to see him staring at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Are we dropping her? Are we keeping her on? Are we going to try and convince her people to let her go in a different direction?”

“Have you ever thought about teaching a ballroom dance class?”

Minghao actually set his phone down out of sheer confusion. He blinked and shook his head, sure he hadn’t just heard what he thought he’d heard. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, it’s not like it’s going to actually help, but it might be a fun way to pass the time until she makes her decision.” He paused. “Or the company makes it for her.”

“I’m still stuck on the last thing you said—ballroom?” Minghao asked incredulously, sitting forward. “You’re not actually thinking about ballroom.”

Hoshi shrugged and looked at Minghao from the floor, upside-down. “It’s more fun than trying not to pop a blood vessel every week.”

“We’re a K-pop dance studio,” Minghao said. “What is her company going to say when they find out you’ve been teaching her ballroom?”

“At least it’s something,” Hoshi replied, flipping back onto his stomach. “And at least I can lead.”

—

You were used to Hoshi touching you to correct your position, but not like this. It wasn’t even that he was too close because there was actually a considerable amount of space between the two of you and he had probably been closer before. This just felt so…intimate.

His hand was on your waist, your hand was on his shoulder, and your other hand was held in the air by his. You had only seen this stuff in western period dramas and cartoons. Only when you did it, you didn’t really feel like high society in your sweatpants.

“Feet together,” he instructed, modeling for you. “I’m going to teach you a box step.”

You put your feet together, tapping the rubber sides of your shoes together. “Like a jazz square?”

“No. Well, maybe. Yes, but not really.” He let go of your hand momentarily to fix his hair. “Don’t worry about it. First, you’re going to step back when I step forward.”

He picked your hand back up from where you let it drop to your side. He moved his left foot forward, so you moved your left foot backward.

“Nope, try again. Like a mirror,” he said. “My left foot, your right foot.

You reset to try again. He stepped forward with his left foot, and you moved your right foot back. He froze, so you didn’t make another move.

“Good! Next, move your left foot down so it’s level with your right foot, but shoulder-width apart.”

“Huh?”

He swept his right foot up in an arc to its next place. “Like that, but back. Make your feet mirror mine.”

You tried to follow his fancy arc, but you must have curved it the wrong way. It felt awkward, even though your feet ended up in the right place. “That can’t be right,” you worried.

“Hmm, not quite,” he agreed. He let go of your hand and your waist, so you took your hand off his shoulder. He stood next to you, his hands still up as if you were across from him. “Copy me.” He stepped his right foot back. “One.”

You left your arms down and stepped your right foot back. “One.”

“No, no, keep your arms up. One,” he said, demonstrating the first step again.

Fighting back a sigh, you held your arms up as instructed and took another step back. “One.”

“Good, now two,” he said, sweeping his left foot back and across.

This time, the curve of the path felt much more natural. “Two.”

“See? Not so hard,” he encouraged. He picked up his right foot and placed it down next to his left foot. “Three.”

You copied him once more. “Three.”

“Okay, great! That was the first half,” he explained. “The second half is the same, but forward.”

You scrunched your eyebrows, watching both your feet and his. “Right foot forward?”

“Mirrored and forward,” he corrected himself. “It’s called a box step because we make a box with our steps. Left foot forward—one.”

“One,” you repeated, setting your left foot in front of you heavily.

“Keep your arms up,” he reminded you, pushing your elbow back up.

“What’s the point if you’re not even there?”

“To keep proper form. Now right foot up and shoulder length apart for two.”

You stomped your right foot up. “Two.”

“Stay light on your feet; it’ll help you move. Then feet together again for three.”

Much lighter, you brought your left foot back over. “Three.”

“And that’s the other half. Easy, right?” He looked at you expectantly.

You returned his smile with a grimace. “Simple and easy are different.”

To your surprise, he laughed at that. As in, it seemed genuine and not forced. “Alright, touché. Let’s try it a couple more times side by side and then we can try it together?” he suggested.

It was hard not to accept with his enthusiasm back up like the first few times he had taught you. Maybe he was like this because he had to care much less about your performance and more about making sure you had fun.

You mirrored him a few more times through the steps, with less separation between the steps every time. Just when you felt like you had it, he decided it was time for you to dance together again. You could already feel the six steps shuffling their order in your mind.

Once again, his right hand was on your waist, your left hand was on his shoulder, and your other hands were intertwined. There was a respectable distance between the two of you, still, but it felt like this was the closest you had ever been. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you sure hoped he couldn’t hear it.

“Go ahead and watch your feet if you have to, but just for now,” he warned you. “You’re going to have to look up sooner or later.”

You snapped your head up faster than you could think. “At what?”

“At me.”

The actual distance between you might not have changed, but boy, oh boy, did it feel like it shrank to almost nothing.

He must have felt it, too, by the way his ears started to flush pink. “I mean, traditionally, you look at your partner in ballroom dance,” he clarified unconvincingly.

You nodded, deciding to believe him rather than make this any worse than it was for you. 

“Ready?” he asked. You nodded again. “Okay, I start forward with my left foot, and you…” He picked up his left foot and froze, waiting for your move.

If he was going to step forward, you would have to move if you didn’t want him to step on your toes. “I step back with my right foot.” You took the step, and he followed through with his.

“Next?”

“I move my left foot to the other corner?” You weren’t guessing, but you still marked uncertainty in your tone.

“Good—let’s try it.” His foot followed yours up to the next point. “Excellent. And then?”

“Feet together.” You didn’t wait for him to confirm this time, but he still moved in time with you. “And then…left foot forward.” It was like his foot moving backward pulled yours forward into place. “Right foot up…and feet together again.”

“That’s it! Keep going.”

You could start to see what he meant by leading and following. You were moving at the same time, but it was a bit like your feet were attached with strings and dowel rods. As you stopped narrating each step, he began to count softly and bounce into each step.

“One, two, three, one, two, three—see how you can shift your weight and make it smoother?” he interrupted himself. “Try to keep the weight on the balls of your feet.”

You were taken aback at how simple the change was, but how much more elegant it made you feel. He kept counting softly, and it felt natural when he started leading you to turn a bit with each step.

He did stop you after a few more rounds, but for once, it wasn’t to point out a mistake in frustration. It was instead to congratulate you on your success.

“Shall we try with some music?”

“Is it going to be fast?”

“Not much faster than we’ve already been doing,” he reassured you. “It’s not a hard dance to speed up, though.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you snickered. “You literally dance for a living.”

“No, I teach dance for a living. Big difference,” he emphasized jokingly. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and a few moments later, some music came over the speakers. “Which means that I know you won’t have a hard time with this. Ready?”

Tuning into the music, you started to count in your head. Hoshi was right—it wasn’t that much faster than you had already practiced. It might have even been a little slower.

“For once, I think I might be.” You straightened your back, but you kept your eyes on your feet.

“Excellent! I’ll count us off. Which foot first?” he quizzed you.

“Um…” You went over it in your head. “My right, your left.”

“And you didn’t even phrase it as a question this time,” he said, genuinely praising you. “Ready? One, two, three, ready, set, go!”

It felt like magic. Really, it did. For the first time in your life, you were moving in rhythm with the music, and combined with the music, you were understanding how the two worked together for the first time, too. Eyes on your feet, it really almost felt effortless.

It felt even more like a period drama now, and you felt a little more like you belonged.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Hoshi commented.

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing it,” you agreed.

“What if you try to look up now?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know. I think the only reason this is working is because I can see my feet.”

“Just try,” he encouraged you. “Trust your feet for a second.”

You glanced up and back down, and then raised your head. Earlier he said you were supposed to look up at him, right? You could try.

So you looked up and found his face right in front of yours.

Funnily enough, he was right in telling you to trust your feet; they kept moving in the correct pattern even though your brain was totally short-circuiting. You felt close enough to count all his eyelashes, which was easier with his eyes widened like that.

He was surprised, too—he wasn’t expecting your proximity to shrink like that. However, he kept moving just as you did, too stunned to break eye contact or try to widen the gap.

Minghao dropped something on the floor in his corner, snapping you out of your trance. Hoshi glanced over your shoulder to see what was up, but his eyes were back on you in record time.

You cleared your throat as your senses were returned to you. “I’ll just…look at the wall or something,” you mumbled, trying to look like you were absentmindedly staring over his shoulder rather than fixating your gaze purposefully away from him.

“No, you don’t have to do that,” he tried to brush you off casually. “That was my fault. I promise it’s not as awkward if we’re talking.”

So he was admitting that just happened, and it was awkward. Cool.

Your eyes flickered back over to meet his, which were now much more relaxed, but you ultimately stayed looking away from him. “Are you sure?”

He nodded in one fluid, dramatic motion. “Promise.”

Once again, he was right. He didn’t make you look at him right away, but once he started talking to you, asking about your instrument, what you liked about making music, how your grades were in high school, the makeup products you used, even the color of your toothbrush (what?), it was natural to look at him. The distance didn’t grow back, really, but it became comfortable.

After a while, and probably more than a couple songs worth of talking, he stopped you. “One more thing we’ll practice today,” he introduced.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” you asked suspiciously.

Minghao snorted from the corner. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” he asked himself in a voice that he only meant for himself to hear.

“No more bad feelings!” Hoshi demanded. “You already learned to waltz, so let’s just add a little trick. I’ll teach you how to spin.”

Minghao narrowed his eyes at the two of you. He glanced at the clock and decided that while, sure, there was enough time to teach you this, it wasn’t part of the original lesson plan. He was right about the bad feeling. Hoshi didn’t look at just anyone like that.

#headcanon (i say as it's my story that i wrote) but i like to think she debuts as a soloist with a specialty in ballroom-style choreography #or hoshi starts a social media something and has a series called teaching my girlfriend how to dance and they just giggle the whole time #seventeen #hoshi #svt #hoshi x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #kwon soonyoung #svt hoshi #seventeen hoshi #hoshi seventeen #hoshi svt #svt soonyoung #soonyoung x reader

[gloryhrs]

━━ ⟡ 𝓗𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝓞𝐅𝐅, uryu i.

ᥫ᭡ o. requested by — anon. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

ᥫ᭡ i. male reader, comedy ( if you squint ) and fluff, uryu and r. are happily married and are living together (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ ), uryu tries to be upset at the r. ( he fails ), r. is “clueless” about the whole situation.

ᥫ᭡ ii. hello everyone, i’m ( seriously ) back this time and ready to get back into writing after being on a 6? month hiatus. i downloaded character ai and . . . (っ- ‸ - ς), yeah, it had a chokehold on me. but i’m glad to be back, now we’re so close to 300 followers and i’m so happy that you all have still been showing love and support to my work even when i was gone for all this time and keeping my account alive! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ now i plan on finishing up all my requests in my inbox, sorry for keeping those who requested something waiting all this time. (╥﹏╥)

Today wasn’t the best day for Uryu.

The 27 year old just blew over four hundred dollars for someone to come to his house and fix up his fan and his thermostat. Since someone couldn’t stop touching the damn things when he was sleep, which was you, his husband. And boy, was he pissed when he checked the hallway cameras and saw it was you that was constantly turning the fan on and off along with the thermostat. Damn, you couldn’t leave at least one of them alone?! Your excuse was that you were “sleepwalking” and it was the “weather demons” waking you up every two minutes of the night.

Uryu was a doctor, and he made plenty of money—but it wasn’t that part that ticked him off badly. It was the fact this wasn’t your first time doing this! Last year he went through the same situation because you kept sweating in your sleep one minute, and the next minute you would be freezing with your nose running. But Uryu knew you were sensitive to the weather, so he wasn’t upset with you about it.

But this time, as you would say, really rusted up his gears.

You were currently laying down on the couch with an apple juice and bag of chips in your hand as you watched the man fix the thermostat. As you watched him you couldn’t help but feel a pair of holes burning into your head, which was no other than your boyfriend. Maybe if I ignore him then he’ll stop looking you mentally spoke to yourself with a small form of sweat appearing on the side of your head. He couldn’t stare for long right?

10 minutes later, he was still glaring. And for someone who said he was no longer angry, he surely didn’t keep up to his word. This man had his arms crossed and was tapping his foot against the shiny wooden floors while staring you down.

“Are you still mad?”

“No, what made you say that?”

“. . . You’re literally burning holes into the side of my head, Uryu. I understand if you’re still upset, y’know.”

“I can never be mad at my beautiful husband. My gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous husband. The one I work for so he can get what he wants? The same one who not only broke the thermostat, but somehow the fan as well? No, I can never be upset at you.”

You couldn’t help but deadpan at the way he said all of this with a fake smile on his face. He was a terrible liar, his lying skills were so bad and noticeable till the point of his ears turning a dark shade of red every time he lies. Which was pretty cute, in your opinion—back in school, you would often teased him about that. And the fact he was in 15 and walking around with a middle part in his hair and his pants being jacked up to his belly button, as if he was a grown man in a child’s body.

You let out a sigh and placed your snacks down so you could make your way towards him. Once you were within his space, you immediately wrapped your arms around him—pulling him closer to your body with your head resting on his shoulder. Just like when he was a teenager, his body immediately became as stiff as a mannequin for a nearly thirty seconds. Until he realized, you were his husband, not his boyfriend anymore. His eyes completely softened and he wrapped his arms around you as well. Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel the warmth in those eyes behind those glasses.

“I’m so—”

“Don’t worry about it. I have the money for it.”

You smiled and chuckled when he said those words. This man couldn’t choose whether he wanted to be happy one minute then said the next, it was cute.

You could feel the sweat dripping from your forehead as you laid on the pillow. You hated being hot, but you didn’t want to break the thermostat or fan again and you didn’t want to make Uryu upset again, so you decided to just lay there . . . motionlessly. Your eyes sealed shut, you tried not to think about it but how the hell can you do that when you feel like your shirt is melting off your body?

As you felt yourself melting into the bed you suddenly felt a refreshing and cool breeze on your skin. Which made you relax into the bed and open your eyes almost instantly, trying to figure out where that sensation came from. When you looked up, you saw a fan in on your side of the bed, and your husband who was adjusting the settings on it as well. You couldn’t help but smile softly at the man who was focused on the fan that he didn’t even noticed you were awake.

“You’re doing that for me?” You spoke softly, your eyes holding nothing but love and admiration for the man in front of you. You felt at ease now, like you were given a cold drink of water on a hot summer day. Uryu turned his head to you with a soft smile on his lips as well before he grabbed a mini remote from the nightstand and laid it beside your pillow—you took a small glance at it and it was for the fan. It had speed settings, rotating mode, and an off button.

Instead of being upset with you all day, he decided to make your problem easier for the both of you. How considerate of him.

“Here, now we both don’t have to worry about you getting up every two minutes of the night.” You felt his lips against your forehead while you’ve already sunk deep in the bed. You could feel his presence even closer to you when you heard the bed creak and arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. Oh, how you loved your husband more than anything.

© gloryhrs, 033124. | notes and reblogs are appreciated! (≧∇≦)

#(ㅅ´ ˘ `) @gloryhrs . . . ! #anime #manga #animanga #bleach #uryu ishida #bleach uryu #uryu x reader #uryuu #uryu x y/n #uryu ishida x male reader #male reader

[yourlocallyneysimp]

The real test.

Summary: How will they act if they went in a haunted house with you? Would they hide behind you or protect you?

Characters: Hu Tao, Lyney, Lynette, Scaramouche, Albedo, Itto, Venti, Columbina, Mika

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

Hu Tao-

If you go to a haunted house with Hu Tao, you're on your own. She would be so excited that she would just run off and leave you behind. While you would scream at every jump scare, on your left, Hu Tao would most likely be laughing at the cheap costumes and having a lot of fun. Would she be a good Haunted House partner? Probably not.

Lyney-

Lyney would protect you from anything so when you asked if he could go in the haunted house with you, he quickly accepted. The whole time though, he had this smug look on his face each time you jumped or had any sort of reaction, you were hiding behind him so you didn't notice that he was amused, but he won't stop teasing you when you both get out. 😒

Lynette-

Lynette would be pretty confused about what all the hype about. She's always heard haunted houses were fun and could get you excited but when she went inside, she was dissapointed to say the least. The entire time, during every jump scare, her expression would stay the same. She's just like," '-'."

Scaramouche-

Scaramouche would act like hes all that before he goes into the haunted house and even laughed at it claiming how stupid it was. Even though you were annoyed by his confidence, you still went in with him. Fast forward to when you are halfway through the house, hes laughing at your shaking form and saying how weak you are. Then unexpectedly, a fake zombie comes from around the corner, and when I tell you that man SCREAMED bloody murder. He was quiet the rest of the way and even had a hand holding onto your shirt. He did not let go.

Albedo-

Albedo would be pretty interested about why humans enjoy these places with fake costumes and cheap jumpscares, but he still wanted to find out. So Albedo offered to come inside with you. He was probably taking notes in his head about every reaction you had while walking in front of you. You hid behind him secretly thanking Albedo for being unfazed for most of the trip. Even though he decided to go in just to observe, he still made sure you were behind him.

Itto-

Itto was super confident about going into the haunted house and even said he could go into the house by himself which impressed his gang. (Except for Shinobu) Shinobu still asked for you to follow him inside because she didn't trust that he could go in there by himself without getting into some sort of trouble. When you catched up to Itto, he was still walking pretty fast ignoring all the cardboard ghosts that would try to go after him. You and him decided to talk for a bit while you tried to ignore the little jumpscares, Itto seemed unbothered until a fake 8 ft. tall ghost camed out of no where and jumped in front of you two. Using his instincts, Itto accidently punched it while screaming. Luckily is was a mannequin so no one got hurt, although looking at Itto's face you knew he was a bit traumatized.

Venti-

When you went into the haunted house with Venti, he was a bit drunk so he was screaming at everything (Even at the chair). This did not comfort you at all since you were uncomfortable yourself, but you were stuck with him. Throughout the whole trip, Venti and you would be screaming together while running around like mad men. I can confidently say that he's not the best haunted house partner, but still makes things lively.

Columbina-

Columbina was for once not busy with fatui work so you dragged her to a festival the city was holding. She was confused on why you would want to go into a haunted house, but she didn't question it. She was just happy that she could spend some time with you, so you both went inside hand in hand. Her expression would be the same, smiling and giggling every time you squeezed her hand, but you did take notice of how Columbina never let go throughout it all. ❤

Mika-

You and Mika would be perfect. You both would be running around screaming together. Even though you both made it out eventually, at least you got through it together 💙(With Mika barley conscious).

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #Hu Tao #Hu Tao x reader #Lyney #Lyney x reader #Lynette #Lynette x reader #Scaramouche #Scaramouche x reader #Albedo #Albedo x reader #Itto #Itto x reader #Columbina #Columbina x reader #Mika #Mika x reader #Venti #Venti x reader #reader #Y/N

[yoitsjay]

The Universe Is Yours

Pairings: 10th Doctor x M!reader

Warning: teeny tiny bit if man angst

Summary: You followed The Doctor everywhere. And now he finally found you.

Word count: 1700

Aliens spanned all across the universe, so many different species and subspecies and on top of that there were new cultures and religions that came with the new species. You loved to study them all, every alien invasion that came to earth, any encounter you witnessed. You were always there, always taking pictures. But there was one similarity with all the encounters.. The Doctor.

You first heard of him a few years back when christmas santas and plastic mannequins tried to take over london, next event was when an alien ship crashed into the london river, and once again aliens tried to take over, which lead to harriet Jones becoming prime minister, leading to the torchwood institute and all its alien capturing tools. There were many more events that happened after, all with the doctor making his appearances and saving London and the world. The most recent was when Cybermen and Daleks tried to battle for earth, and the doctor sucked them all into the void like nothing had ever been there in the first place, minus all the destruction that was left behind. You were there for all of it, blending in as a worker with fake IDs, or just there taking pictures.

The more these events happened, the moreThe Doctor seemed to notice you, hiding in the shadows away from prying human eyes, but alas he wasn't human, and he noticed. Rose was gone, in the parallel universe, living her life, and the Doctor was alone… or was he really? Because wherever he went, you seemed to follow.

Today had been pretty boring it seemed, no alien attacks, no signs of the doctor, no panicking or screaming. London was… normal… for the first time in a long time, and that in its own way was strange to you. Currently you are in your apartment suite, hanging up your newly bought Canadian and UK flags in your window.

You were born in Canada but moved to London when you turned twenty, having finished school and with nothing else to do with life. Your parents died and your grandparents who had taken care of you your whole life had also passed away last year. So London and all its mysteries called to you. At first you were interested in ancient ruins and old civilizations, history and vikings and anglo-saxons all interested you. Then aliens came and it became your new hyperfixation.

You had a day job, because you obviously couldn't live in London with no job, so you worked as a delivery organizer in the warehouse, receiving all the packages that were delivered to your store, managing a forklift and shelves. It paid a pretty decent penny, enough to help you live of course.

Today was your day off however, and with nothing strange going on you decided to take your polaroid camera and take a walk through the park, and it's exactly what you did, taking nice pictures of nature, and of cute little squirrels and birds. Eventually you took a seat down on a bench in the park, sorting through the polaroids in your bag, smiling at the better pictures. A sigh left your lips, and you glanced to your side after noticing someone had sat down beside you, however you didn't really care all that much, until you took a double take, noticing a very familiar coat jacket, and pants… you looked up, eyes widening when you saw familiar short brown hair, and a beautiful pair of eyes…

He was sitting right beside you.

You put your camera in your satchel and you stood up abruptly, taking a step back as he smiled at you. "Hello!" he exclaimed. And with that you turned and ran, gripping the strap of your bag as your legs carried you through the park. Some people gave you strange looks, and when you looked back for just a moment you tripped on a stick on the path and went tumbling down.

However, before you could hit the ground you felt two arms wrap around you and twirl you around, holding you close for just a moment to make sure you were stable. However as you were spun around your camera had managed to fall from your bag, and it smashed into a dozen pieces on the ground.

You pushed the stranger away, falling to your knees as you hastily gathered all the pieces, your breath catching in your throat as a steady stream of tears escaped your eyes, and finally you let out a choked sob, holding all the broken polaroid pieces in your hands. 'man up' you thought to yourself, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "men shouldn't cry, stupid boy" you whispered, leaning back on your legs as you stared up at the sky,

You then felt a hand on your shoulder, and slowly the doctor came into view again. "Hey, don't run away this time… I only want to talk." He said softly, grabbing the camera pieces from your hands and from the ground. "Hmm yes… yes! What a brilliant piece of technology! come back to the TARDIS with me and I'll fix your camera right up for you!" He exclaimed, shoving all the pieces into your bag before hoisting you up onto your feet. "What? No way Doctor… Doctor Who?! I'm not coming into your tiny police box so you can kidnap me and dump me on some- some other world! no way!" You exclaimed, taking a step back as the doctor extended a hand to you.

"Oh come on! I don't know you but you clearly seem to know me.. Why not take the chance to talk to The Doctor! it'll be funnnn~" he sang out, seeing the conflict spread across your face.

With a deep breath, you reluctantly grabbed his hand, however as soon as you did he immediately dragged you along as he ran through the park, to the blue police box you have seen so many times and taken so many pictures of. And when he opened the door, and pulled you inside… it was like nothing you had ever seen before… "Woah… what…" you trailed off, and your immediate thought was to take pictures, but without your camera… you couldn't.

You turned back to the doctor, and he was smiling widely, gesturing for you to give him the camera pieces… and so you did. watching as he laid them all across his console, and with some strange looking screwdriver he pieced together your camera, and added a few things too it seemed, and within the hour he handed your camera back to you, smiling brightly still. "So? what do you think?" he asked, and you studied your camera intensely, glancing up at him with a curious look.

"What did you add to it?" you asked, and it looked like his smile grew even wider upon hearing your question. "well! I added a few things that might be invented a few years from now, but oh well i'll let you have something a little nicer. But your pictures will become much cleaner and easier to see, no flashback in pictures. unlimited polaroid so you never need to buy cartridges again! and, there's a UV light on it, and an infrared camera setting, and night vision! just in case." he explained, watching as your eyes went wider the more he explained what he had added to your camera.

You gently set it down on the center console, looking up at him before abruptly pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you Doctor." You whispered, pulling back with a nervous expression.

"It's no problem really… and whoever told you that men can't cry, is stupid and wrong." The doctor stated, which made you smile a bit more. However, before you could say anything, he spoke up again. "So now I did something for you… so you can do something for me. Tell me when you first saw me, and started taking pictures. Because I see you everywhere I am." He started, taking a step closer to you. Your eyes went wide, and you took a step back in response. "I mean it started a few years ago I guess?When you looked… different? It started when the plastic mannequins attacked london." You answered, and he hummed in response.

"You dont sound like you're from London… Where are you from?" He asked, and you smiled. "Canada! proud and free, i moved to london after my grandparents died, i have no family, just my camera." You answered, a sad tone to your voice as you explained this to him.

The doctor took a step back from you, and you relaxed, grabbing your modified camera, putting it in your bag with a sigh. "Well… why are you following me?" he asked finally,and you beamed in response, pulling out all the photos and files you carried with you. "Ever since I saw you there has been alien activity everywhere! all across the world. I used to be interested in old structures, and viking history… But ever since you came around i've been hyper fixated on you i guess? and your adventures… It's just all so fascinating." You explained, seeing him smile at your response.

'Well then… would you like to see my adventures first hand? you could come with me on all my adventures…" He suggested.

he was giving you the option to explore galaxies, new worlds, you could meet aliens and study cultures with the doctor up close instead of watching them from afar… You had no family, no animals, and nothing at home… but The doctor was offering you the world.

You saw him extend his hand to you, and without a second thought you grabbed it. "i need to stop at my apartment, and pack some money and clothes… But yes Doctor… I'll come with you." You said softly, and he pulled you towards the console and told you which buttons to press, and when he got the location of your home he took you there, appearing in the spare bedroom of your apartment.

This? being shown the universe? with such a hot man too? You couldn't have it any other way.

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