#you don't have to fake to be over here fake somewhere else and i'll get somebody that's true

[notanactressyayy]

—𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞—

pairing. ex! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary. in a day you simply wanted peace, two unexpected visitors showed up. for one of them, you were glad.

warnings. smut! I am NOT responsible for your content consumption! — making out, thigh riding, strap on usage, cursing, angst (w happy ending), soft dom Nat.

notes. my first language is portuguese, so I apologize for any grammar errors. feel free to give me advice, though!

divider credits: @cafekitsune ★

Natasha Romanoff was known as a cold, ruthless woman, who never cared for anyone besides herself. Most of the people didn't know this was due her past — the Red Room was always in complete secrecy, so they feared her. She was already used to it. Whenever she started something with someone, in the next day, she had an empty bed as a gift. To be completely honest, she always felt used. Men and women touched her, to leave her in the morning.

That changed when she met you.

You could say you'd changed her completely, for the best, of course. She became more open with you, learned to express herself better and was not known as the most selfish Avenger in the team anymore.

But just like people say, not everything is a bed of roses.

Instead of using that achievement to improve your relationship, she began to care a little too much about her team of superheroes. At some point, she was no longer paying attention to you.

Reports this, reports that. Missions and more missions. "I have to go somewhere with Cap." "I have to train with Tony to a mission." "I can't, I'll have to go with Clint."

When you confronted her about this, begging for her to understand and willing to help her change, she decided that it was a better option to part ways. You were devasted, and she saw it. That made her heart ache — someone actually lov— liked her enough to want to stay.

This was the one and only reason Natasha didn't forget about you. The only reason she thought about you everyday. The only reason she teared up whenever entering her car and seeing the polaroid with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on her rearview mirror, that she didn't dare to take down.

Today, you were leaving work, heavy tired steps echoing on the pavement's wooden floor as the moonlight illuminated the room. The building was already empty, the streets, darker than your thoughts.

As you started walking to the nearest bus stop, you heard quick footsteps behind you — it was already late and usually there was no people on the streets like this. You turned your head, "you gotta be kidding me".

"Hey, Y/n!" Peter exclaimed, running to catch up with you. "I didn't know you were going to be here at 11:30pm."

You rolled your eyes and took a sharp inhale, but like always, tried to be polite. This so called coworker of yours was always looking at you, following you everywhere, and asking you things, not always work-related. You always made it clear that you weren't interested in men, and he insisted on saying he could 'change your mind'.

"Hey, Peter." you replied, faking a smile and nodding. "You need me to review your documents again?"

"Oh, no. I was just wondering if you wanna go on a date with me. Did you see the restaurant that just opened over there? I could treat you to—"

"No, I don't." you cut him off, more harshly than you intended to. "Look, Peter, I'm sorry. But I don't want anything to do with you, alright? So if you want, go ahead and find somebody else."

You shook your head, not even waiting for his reply and picking up the pace again, quickly rushing to the bus stop. That's when the guy showed you a side that you just suspected, but preferred to believe he didn't have

"C'mon, Y/n." he grabbed your arm, nails digging into your skin. "You won't broke my heart, will you? You're such a gentle, beautiful, kind woman. You will give me a chance."

You cleared your throat, feeling him get closer, and thinking about a certain Red Head — how she would gently, delicately graze your skin with her fingers, so softly whispering into your ear and bringing you to her embrace—

"Back off."

"Oh, no." he laughed. Such a creep. "I won't back off. And if you don't cooperate, I'll make you give me a chance."

Your hands trembled now, silently praying to whoever was seeing this just call the cops or do something. You didn't know the guy anyway. He didn't talk to anyone at work beside you, and you never got to know him, you would never. That's when it would be a good use to have a spy girlfriend. Just the last thing you expected to happen was to hear the sound of a gun cocking behind you, and a very familiar female voice.

"She said back off."

Relief unconsciously washed upon you as your arm was released, only because of the gun, though. You knew that if if wasn't for her, who knows what could've happened there. Peter left, annoyed, but the Russian swore to herself that she'd make his life a living hell.

"... Natasha?" you whisper, turning around with a confused and even scared frown.

"Yes," she worriedly rubbed your arm, shooting you, slowly making the feeling of the disgusting hand fade away. "Are you okay?"

"I am..." you nodded subtly, leaning into her touch. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I saw a woman being harassed. What was I supposed to do? Mind my business?" she said, obviously avoiding your question.

"You know this is not what I mean." you frowned, carefully letting go of her caress and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Natasha sighed, trying to think of a way to explain herself. 'Oh, I'm here because I miss you so much I can't even sleep anymore.'? No, it wouldn't do.

"I... followed you."

"Oh, great, so I'm being stalked twice today." you hissed, making Natasha look down with your harshness.

"No, Y/n.. I'm here for.. personal reasons. I saw you leaving work, and I noticed that guy following you. I decided to follow too, until he grabbed you and I knew I had to intervine." she explained quietly.

The fact she had said 'personal reasons' deeply hurt you, but you couldn't do anything, you had broken up after all. You nodded, and prepared yourself to walk tp the bus stop again.

"Wait," Natasha quickly stopped you, her eyebrows furrowed. "I won't let you go home like this."

This was something about the old Natasha you knew, the protective one. It was okay, you were tired, and a ride would be no harm. "Where's your getaway car?"

She smiled softly at your joke, and tilted her head. "Around the corner."

You two walked silently towards the vehicle, as she unlocked the doors with the keys and you entered the passenger seat. You threw your bag on the backseat before you could focus on the environment around you, and see the polaroid of you and Nat with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on the rearview mirror.

Natasha noticed your gaze as soon as she entered the driver seat, clearing her throat and starting the car's engine. "Couldn't bring myself to take those down."

You stayed silent, but your eyes could tell everything. I'm glad. Oh, I'm so glad.

Natasha remembered your address as if you hadn't broken up nine months ago, and when you reached your place, you too much disappointed for your own good.

"Thank you for the lift," you whispered, turning your body to be able to grab your bag from the backseat — in the exact same moment Natasha turned to unbuckle her seatbelt — your fronts touching, which made you two a little startled.

The problem was that you didn't pull away, neither of you. You slowly turned your head to meet Natasha's gaze, your face so close to hers you could feel her breath. Familiar. It was pure instinct, almost muscle memory, of the times she always kissed you goodbye when dropping you somewhere.

You didn't even notice your hand going up to hold the back of her neck, much less when she placed her hand on your thigh, and leaned in so your noses brushed. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment, almost savouring your closeness, your aura enveloping her once more. Then your lips barely, barely grazed, breath hitching, as she couldn't take it anymore.

The redhead pressed her lips against yours, giving them a long peck. It was surprising how much time you lasted without air. You didn't break the kiss, just darted the tip of your tongue out to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She gave in, trying to pull you closer but being stopped by the goddamn control panel. As soon as you felt her tongue touching yours you realized that this was going too far. You pulled back harshly, leaving you two panting for air and a disappointed Nat.

"Do you..." you shakily breathed. "... wanna come in?"

"Mhm." Natasha hummed, turning off the engine. "Can I?"

You didn't answer, just opened the door and slipped out the car. As you entered, you could practically feel Natasha's eyes burning the place. How you didn't take down any picture of yours. How her stuff was spreading across the pavement. It gave her a sense of... hope? Of course, since she was in the same situation.

"So.. are you seeing anyone?" you asked her while kicking off your heels and leaving them by the door.

"I think you know the answer for that." the redhead practically hissed, making your head snap towards her.

"But I want you to say it." you retreated. "I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn't forget me. I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me the reason of why you came to my town again and followed me when I left work. I want you to tell me the reason of why you kissed me just like we always did before."

"I didn't! I didn't forget you, Y/n!" Natasha snapped, looking away and tucking the loosen strands of hair of her braids behind her ears. "I didn't forget you and I never did. Alright? Happy now?"

"Is that so?" you laughed humorlessly, crossing your arms. "I thought you cared more about your superheroes buddies. Where are they now!?"

"I left them." Natasha replied, looking at you again with a mixture of anger and pain. "I left them and came back, to you, Y/n."

You froze at her words, swallowing your saliva. "... okay?"

"I came back here, because I wanted to at least a chance to explain myself. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I hurt you, and that you think that I did it on purpose. So please, just give me a chance."

"...go on."

Natasha sighed in relief, exhaling the air she was holding. "I'm sure you know my story. You were the first one to know everything about it, about me. And I'm also sure you know you're the first one to ever love me. No one else ever loved me like you did."

You leaned against the kitchen counter, listening carefully to her words, ready to give her time and patience, like you usually did.

"... I didn't know what I was doing, Y/n. Every other relationship I had, ended in less than a week. Love is a weapon and it's letal for me, for people like me. I was, I am startled by all of this, by this fuzzy warm feeling that you always gave me, that you still do, in my thoughts.. the Avengers were my first family, and when I panicked, I tried to hang on to them. In order not to hurt you, and myself." she didn't even realize the tear rolling down her cheek, and shook her head. "That's it. I'm sorry for everything, but Y/n, you will always have a piece— you'll always have my whole heart in your hands. I'll get off your hair n—"

You couldn't. Not anymore. You rushed towards her and grabbed her face, cutting her off with a deep kiss. She was taking aback, but her hands traveled to your waist, pulling you flush against her, your fronts pressing. Nothing changed. Natasha pushed you backwards against your room's door, her tongue entering your mouth and dancing with yours. You could feel yourself getting lost in her, damn it, once more. It was like she had this spell on you — you were trapped, and didn't complain.

"Y/n," the russian uttered, hands slipping inside your shirt and giving your waist a squeeze. "I've got to have you again, at least for one last time. Please, just this once—"

Tired of her rambling, you smirked and grabbed her by the jacket, pulling her into a kiss again and dragging her into the room, slamming the door shut. Natasha took this as a 'yes', and her hands, under you shirt, went to unclasp your bra, making it fall to the ground and a groan of relief escape your throat. Before she could remove the rest of the fabric of your body, you stopped her, pushing her down to the bed.

"I always wanted to do that," you started to slowly, so slow that it almost tortured her take off your clothes, stripteasing for her.

"Shit, Y/n." she quickly started to get rid off her jacket, snd everything else she was wearing. You were careful not to trip on the pile of clothes on the floor, and walked over to her again, straddling her leg on the edge of the bed.

Natasha's hand grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place and it didn't take two seconds before you started to grind on her. "Nat," you breathed, arms going to circle her neck.

"Who else touched you like this while I was away?" she growled in your ear, pressing your body against hers. "Answer me,"

"No one," you whined, giving her a subtle shake of your head. "No one, Natty. J-just myself,"

"My poor girl," Nat began to roam her hands up your sides, her lips pressing kisses on your jawline, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help,"

"You're here now..!" you gasped, your movements faster, as she began to move her thigh to stimulate you more.

"And I don't plan on going away," Natasha murmured, tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. Even in your high, you could make sense of her words, and the weight they beared.

"Nat!" you moaned, closing your eyes shut. "I need... please.. I—I need you, inside me."

Natasha almost lost her mind with that, grabbing your hips and pinning you down to the bed. She reached her arm out for the drawer that she hoped your strap still was, and luckily, she was right. "I'm gonna fuck you like never before, Y/n." she attached the silicone cock to her hips with urgency, holding your hips in place as she ran the tip of it across your folds, making you whine in need.

"Don't tease me," you gently gripped her arms on your hips and looked at her with dreamy eyes. She couldn't resist — but your walls were so tight she had to put a little effort to enter you.

"Holy fuck, baby." she moved her hand to brush your hair behind your ear, giving you a little time to get used to the length. "So fucking tight for me,"

"I—" you breathed, interrupted when Nat started to slowly move in and out you, her red hair falling into your face. You moaned, putting her hair up in a makeshift ponytail and with your free hand, holding her neck. "God, I missed you,"

Natasha pounded faster in you with those words, your moans only getting louder by the second. She grabbed one of your legs and placed it over her shoulder, allowing her to hit your g-spot repeatedly. You thumb went to your mouth, wetting it and starting to rub her clit — she couldn't say she expected that, her soft moans saying everything.

"Cum with me," you breathlessly requested, eyes fluttering close. Natasha didn't have to be asked twice. Her hips slammed into yours, the wet sounds of her thrusting echoing the room. "Natty!"

You back arched, head thrown backwards as your orgasm hit you. Natasha's legs shook, her weight falling onto you and your arms immediately wrapping around her, keeping her close.

"Don't make me go away,"

"I could never."

#Spotify #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel incorrect quotes #natasha romanoff soft smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanov #natasha marvel #natalia romanoff #lgbtqia #angst with a happy ending #angst #fluff #aftercare #can't stop thinking about her

[bigbadvoxbox]

ALR LEMME TWEAK MY VOX X SUB!READER SMUT RQ-

my lame ass excuse for a plot: Being bratty and annoying vox during working hours, like constantly pestering him for 0 reason and eventually he gets fed up with your shenanigans and snaps (insert whatever happens nex here)

SOUNDS HOT i'm up for it

gonna put it into bullet points to help me get it all goin cus longer stuff ain't my strong suit and i'm already workin on two longer fics

warnings: smut. spanking. reader is a goddamn brat. edging. punishment. unprotected sex (don't do this).

- "Voooox. I'm bored. Can we hang out?"

"No, I told you. I'm busy. So why don't you go keep yourself entertained while I work." Vox insisted, beginning to grow frustrated with your antics. You, however, were having none of it.

- Taking his phone out of his hand and tossing it aside, trying to get his attention, only for him to take a deep breath through clenched teeth as he veeery gently redirected you to go somewhere else, picking his phone back up. He was starting to lose his cool now.

- Sitting nearby, continuing to whine and complain about how bored you are, noticing his eye begin to twitch, before half his face is beginning to actually glitch with pure frustration.

- Eventually, he loses it, and gets up from his chair to grab you by the collar, pulling you to his desk and bending you over it.

"If you can't help but be so fucking bothersome, then I guess I'll just have to deal with you."

- His voice takes on the static effect when he's getting really riled up. And it's the sexiest fucking thing ever.

- It starts off with spanking, his sharp hands catching on your skin, making the flesh bloom a rosy shade of red. He soothingly rubs your ass after each spank, even though you both know his pity and care are fake. He's mocking you.

"Awh, poor girl. Did that hurt? Good."

- Before long, his fingers are inside you. He isn't too careful, since this is your punishment for bothering him while he works, for being such a goddamn little brat. but he isn't heartless. he knows you can't take him without some preparation.

- His fingers pick up the pace until you're just almost there, right on that edge of bliss, and then he stops.

- He lets you come down from the close edge, before replacing his fingers with his cock (and what a cock it is).

- He's got you bent over his desk, holding your head down against it as he fucks you so hard the desk's legs scrape across the floor a little.

- "Is this entertaining enough for you? Good enough for a little fucking whore like you?"

- It isn't until your hole feels raw and your body feels like it's on fire that he begins to settle down, letting you cum, and pulling out. He watches with a satisfied smirk at the mixture of yours and his cum that drips down your thigh.

- "Can I finish my work now? Yeah? Good girl."

Sorry I know it's a little short but I hope you like it!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox smut #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel smut

[hunnylagoon]

When I Was Your Girl

Stage Fright

Rockstar! Ellie Williams x pop star! Reader

‘Fame is a poison most would drink happily despite the warning of a slow and painful death’

Premise: You and fell in love as nobodies and fell out of love in the limelight. Now you are forced to deal with ghosts who haunt you like a melody.

Warnings: small mentions of drinking and drugs / wee bit of violence / Ellie is a dick

Fake albums mentioned: Solstice / Smokey Eyes

I've never been anything more than a joke.

I'm so childish they took it for maturity, and I'm so serious they took it for silly.

Even since I began my career, I was spotted at eighteen by a skeezy producer when I sold myself at a strip club to make ends meet, because dreaming never paid the bills. I wish that I had been found somewhere else, maybe one of the restaurants I sang at on karaoke nights or the park where I poured my soul into art through my uncle’s old acoustic guitar. 

"How are you feeling right now?" A tanned woman with slick back hair shoves a microphone into my face while an emotionless man holds the camera. "I mean, seven years in the industry and you've just received your first Grammy nominations."

"I'm feeling kind of freaked out, to be honest," I face the woman with a sheepish smile on my face, trying the best I can not to look at the large camera lurking beside me.

"Rightfully," Her teeth are so white that they almost blind me and I get distracted by myself as I try to figure out whether they are veneers or not. "Do you think you'll be bringing any hardware home tonight?"

She moves the microphone back to my face and I flinch out of instinct, we both laugh for the camera but I can tell she's annoyed "Honestly, I'm just happy to be here, as corny as it sounds it is such an honour to be around so many incredible artists."

"So humble," She smiles then turns to the camera to address the viewers "I think we all know she's gonna be sleeping tonight with a golden gramophone under her pillow," She forces a laugh, trying to capture the raw essence of this overly manufactured moment. The interviewer turns back to me "Now, I know this isn't your first rodeo, is there anyone here you aren't looking forward to seeing, you don't have to name any names."

Fuck I hate these bloodsuckers. She is so obviously trying to milk my broken engagement which was still very much fresh. I uphold my false smile though and shake my head "Nope, if anything I think I'm looking forward to some mingling,"

She looks irritated, covering it up only by a close-lipped smile. "Well, then I'll let you get on with that."

I give her a curt wave and continue my way down the red carpet, maneuvering through other celebrities, we all have common ground, we are blinded by the flashing lights. I try my best to avoid any more journalists but I see Abby Anderson speaking to one and sneak up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder.

She turns around and greets me with a huge smile "I was wondering when I was gonna see you," Abby smiles and slings an arm around my shoulders looking to the journalist while I glance at the camera "I'm telling you, this girl needs to clear some space out on her trophy shelf."

I grin at her, genuinely. Abby had always been kind to me, we first met when I was nineteen and the both of us signed up for Atlantic Records. "She's just being nice," I say.

"And she's just being humble!" Abby squeezes me, it's a simple gesture but it means the world to me, it's her way of saying 'I got you'.

I shake my head "Abby is gonna be the real winner tonight."

The man holding a microphone in front of us smiles "We'll see who's right, my bet is both of you," He turns his attention to me directly "So I understand that you took a bit of a break after releasing your album, Solstice, is this considered your comeback?"

"Nope," I smile despite wanting to snatch the microphone from his hand and beat the camera with it until it shatters "There isn't anything to come back from."

He tilts his head giving the over-animated 'Are you serious?' look for whoever is watching. Every journalist was like a vampire trying to bleed me dry. The journalist, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exudes both sophistication and confidence searches his mind for another question "Well your album honestly was such a work of art and there has been talk that you are working on another one, is there anyone here that inspired any of those songs?"

"Nope."

"I think we should ask Ellie the same question," He laughs at his joke like it was funny. 

"And I think we should be heading off now," Abby answers for me and guides me away from the barricade of reporters and journalists, away from the cameras prying into my soul.

As I walk along the red carpet, I don't bother to stop and pose for any more pictures, I pick up the long skirts of my dress and usher myself to weave between the other celebrities. I nearly turn my ankle and take a tumble, wow, sure glad that 30 photographers caught that moment.

I was drenched in a deep, enchanting shade of midnight blue, the gown captivated with its sleek silhouette. The magic shows in the intricate details that adorn the fabric, reminiscent of the cosmos itself. Delicate embroidery of constellations graces the entire dress, forming a celestial tapestry that seems to come alive under the harsh shine of lights. The celestial patterns are meticulously sewn into the fabric, resembling a night sky filled with stars and constellations, creating an ethereal and otherworldly charm. Paired with the constellation dress, I wear a diamond choker and matching teardrop earrings.

I had lost Abby at some point in my little runaway leaving me to get into the auditorium where the award ceremony is to take place. 

Nearly the very second I walk in I hear a man yell my name, he is seated in the second row and it takes an awkwardly long amount of time for him to jog over to me. "Hey, kid!" He grins, hugging me, I don't hug him in return, I just freeze. It was Graham Wilson, I could smell the liquor on his breath.

Graham Wilson was a man who used to write very successful rock songs in his twenties with his band (the majority now deceased), he was nearing his sixties and was the definition of a has-been. I remember when I was a kid and I would listen to him on my iPod; though in recent days he's become known for ridiculous stunts, DUIs and homophobic tweets, even better known for how he found out I was gay and announced that he was no longer homophobic because, in his words 'Those gays can sure write good music' and then thanked me in his tweet, even tagging my account.

His frame carries the weight of a bygone era, specifically his beer belly. His once-lustrous, shoulder-length hair has succumbed to streaks of gray, hanging limply around his face like faded echoes of a rebellious past. Despite the passage of time, a few remnants of the rockstar allure linger - a faint scar above his right eyebrow, a reminder of a wild night in an underground club, and the subtle tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his wrinkled suit jacket.

"Hey, Graham," I give him a tight-lipped smile out of courtesy, in no means do I wish to talk to him. 

"You better win best album tonight," He gives me a hard slap on the back. Every time I see him he acts like we're friends just because he was a judge on a singing reality show that I was on seven years prior.

"I'll try my best," I try to excuse myself but he speaks again.

"I said seven years ago when I saw you on that stage that you were gonna be a star so don't let me down," He points a finger at me and gives me a weird smirk. When he smirks I almost think he's having a stroke until he starts to laugh and reveals his rows of teeth that are beginning to rot from his not-so-subtle drug abuse.

"Okay," I give him a nod and a quick wave goodbye to sneak away and pretend that I didn't converse with him. It seems like I'm early to take my seat, people are still piling in and being ushered to their spots, and seat fillers are standing around sheepishly while they try to take discreet photos of celebrities.

My seat is on the end of row two, right on the aisle, I feel myself split into a grin. If you weren't aware, Who sits where is a major status symbol. And though awards show organizers may deny it, it's awfully convenient to be sitting in the front row or on the aisle if you're about to accept a ton of trophies.

I was shaking with nerves, I got nominated three times and maybe there was hope that I would win at least one category.

When I saw Ellie I almost wanted to hide my face, she walked in with a new girl she slung her arm around, Jesse, Dina, and Cat in tow. I'm thankful to see that they're sitting front row of the opposite section of me and have yet to notice me.

I'm not sure if you have ever fallen in love, dated, gone on tour, moved in together, adopted a dog, written a couple of songs, got engaged, then broken up with someone and had the entire thing be documented publically but it's not the best feeling when you have to be in the same room as them again.

Everything with Ellie used to be so perfect.

The first thing I ever noticed about her were her eyes, her sad eyes. She looked like a puppy that had been kicked around for far too long; neglected and mistreated by whoever was cruel enough to show her such torment. Her eyebrows furrowed like each thought running through her head was a worry.

It's hard to look at her now, I know this girl inside out but we are strangers. 

I liked to pretend that the beautiful girl she was with was just there for show but I knew it was untrue when I saw her snake her hand around her waist just like she did to me. She runs through girls like they're cigarettes, she uses them until they burn out or she grows sick of them.

Two years ago at this very same award show, Ellie accepted Song of the Year for the song she wrote about me, 'Everlong'. She had even invited me on stage during her speech and announced to the world how in love she was with me.

If only I knew I could come to hate someone I used to love to death.

My hate was only solidified when Ellie and the Ashmen dropped their most recent album titled 'Smokey Eyes' just three months after our broken engagement. The entire album was about me and dear god it almost ruined my career.

Ellie had managed to paint me in a horrible light that made me seem like the scum of the earth. She wrote about me having substance issues and overall just sang happily about how much she despised me. Her song 'Me vs Your Friends' wrecked me. After speculation began over that song online, her fans decided that they loathed me just the same as Ellie did; this meant that I was doxxed, sent death threats, had my home broken into, and forced to move.

She wasn't the slightest bit sorry.

I spent the award ceremony dazed out, to be truthful, these types of events were boring. They dragged on for ages and you had to sit through the same generic speeches over and over again of people thanking their parents and producers, I hated both of those.

I watched as Amelia Swan walked on stage, she was a nepotism baby, the daughter of some big-shot director and beautiful all the same. In the glittering spotlight of the grand award show stage, a vision of elegance takes center stage as the next announcer for the evening. A beautiful woman, her porcelain skin seemingly kissed by moonlight, graces the audience with a timeless allure. Her dark, cascading hair frames her face in a sleek, sophisticated manner, accentuating the delicate features that radiate a captivating charm.

Draped in a resplendent pink gown, the fabric sits tight against her slim body. The gown is a masterpiece of design. Its silhouette accentuates her figure with tasteful precision, while the soft hue of pink complements her fair complexion.

"Hello!" She smiles and the crowd begins to cheer "I'm going to cut to the chase because I know all of you are as excited to find out the winner as I am."

Amelia begins to go through the nominees, my breath hitches in my throat when she says my name, though I play it cool the best I can and smile softly when the camera zooms in on me in the crowd.

Her eyes, framed by carefully styled lashes and a hint of rosy eyeshadow, exude warmth and confidence. Lips adorned with a subtle shade of pink curve into a welcoming smile, inviting the audience to share in the excitement of the announcement. 

"The winner of Album of the Year is..." I could've sworn I nearly passed out when Amelia said my name.

Nothing felt real, it was like I was living the dreams that I made up when I was a little girl staying up late in my uncles back yard, talking to the indigo sky and speaking to it with delusions of security and stardom.

I shake when I stand up from my chair. The person next to me hugs me and I don't even know who she is but I hug her in return.

Amelia gestures for me to join her on stage with a huge smile on her face. I make my way down the aisle and up the steps leading to the stage. Amelia handed the statue of the golden gramophone to me along with the microphone to give my speech.

At this moment, the stage is my kingdom "I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win but I'd like to thank my little sister, Marceline, and my late uncle, Richie, god rest his soul. Everything I've done leading me to this moment has been for them, every lyric, every night I'm up till dawn writing. Even though Richie can't be here in person, I carry a little piece of him with me everywhere I go, he's all around me, I see him in the songs I write, in the melody of an acoustic guitar, and in the faces of those gentle enough to show me kindness."

The audience applauds for me, even Ellie who stares me down bitterly. I had sung in front of thousands of people but it would never compare to this moment.

I wipe a tear away from my eye "I would also like to thank all of my fans, you guys are just the fucking best," I giggle through my crying "I feel like you've been sent down by Richie and Marceline I know you're watching me right now, please give my dog some love for me. Please know that I don't come from anything, I was born from dirt and dreams for something more than a ratty town in Canada."

I lived for the applause.

"I mean, I've always been good and never great so this means a lot to me-

Ameilia places a hand on my shoulder to stop me "There was a bit of a mix-up," She announces "I'm sorry, love, you didn't win," She says just to me, dark eyes full of remorse.

"What?" I almost think it's a sick joke.

Amelia holds the microphone to her face to be heard by the audience "I'm not joking," She shows the contents of a card to the crowd "The real winners for album of the year are Ellie and the Ashmen for their album Smokey Eyes." Gasps sound from the audience and I can only imagine what those watching from home are doing

The camera pans to where Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Cat sit, Ellie is laughing; not laughing, cackling, it only grows and now she's laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Suddenly I didn't feel like I was king of the world, it felt like the desolation of a hangover had hit me in the span of 90 seconds.

Dina gives Ellie a harsh elbow to her bicep, telling her to be respectful. The four of them rise from their chairs and make their way up to the stage, where I stand, paralyzed.

"Congratulations," I give Ellie a tight-lipped smile and hand the award off to her.

She smiled smugly at me and took it "Thanks, smokey eyes," Ellie held the statue up to display it. Smokey eyes was a nickname she had given me when we first met since I always had dark circles she said they looked like smoke from a forest fire. I told you that album was about me. What made me more mad is that it was such a stupid fucking nickname.

My mouth goes dry, it tastes like salt and failure.

I take many steps back, trying to hide myself at the back of the stage while I watch the Ashmen bathe in the glory I thought was mine.

"I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win," Ellie begins to mock me "But I'd like to thank my best friends, Dina, Jesse, and Cat, I couldn't have done it without you," She motions at her band members beside her "But I also couldn't have done it without my dad, thank you, Joel, you're out there in the cheap seats but I fucking love you," She waves out into the crowds somewhere before handing the microphone off to Dina.

"I am so beyond grateful-

"No!" Someone yells from the ground and all attention turns to him "This is not fair!" Graham shouts, walking up the stairs. Everyone in the room looks at one another trying to figure out what is going on. Graham snatches the microphone from Dina "I'm proud of you four but listen."

Everyone is silent completely, no one is sure what to do so we let Graham continue.

"I met everyone on this stage seven years ago," He throws one arm out for dramatics "Except for Amelia, I don't know you," Graham is more dishevelled than he was when I saw him earlier that night "Let me tell all of you that Ellie was in love with this girl since the day they met!" Graham points at me, now things are getting weird, well weirder. “I know because I was there and you all saw it on TV!”

It was no secret that Ellie and I were together since we met on Road to Stardom, a singing reality show where people compete for-well, stardom. Every step of our relationship had been very public, not by choice but by unfortunate circumstances. It is for this reason I was afraid of what Graham would spout next.

"Without her, Smokey Eyes wouldn't have ever been written, Ellie would've had no inspiration for it," He babbles "But more so my point is, Solstice deserved to win, Smokey Eyes is mediocre at best!"

People in the audience look genuinely concerned, I spot Abby in the third row. She has one hand covering her mouth from pure shock, her eyebrows are furrowed and she almost looks like she's going to throw up.

 "Solstice is the best album to listen to when you're high off salvia on your bathroom floor!" Graham points back at me.

I see Cat mutter something to Jesse along the lines of "He's not wrong."

"Smokey Eyes has three good songs and Solstice has thirteen!" Graham suddenly stops to turn and look at me, he grabs my wrist "Come up here and finish your speech," I shake my head no but he pulls me up anyway.

I freeze, petrified. My eyes are wide and my lips are pressed together in a thin line. I didn't know what to do. Why wasn't anyone doing anything?

Graham's head suddenly snaps from me to Ellie where he takes an intoxicated step closer to her "Give me that damn award, you don't deserve it, especially not after mocking the woman who inspired it!" He lunges for the statue, at first Ellie is stubborn and holds onto it tight.

After 30 seconds of Graham trying to pry the stature away, Ellie gives up and releases it, figuring it best not to fight with a drunk man; in doing so Graham's elbow flies back from sudden loss of resistance and hits me dead in my nose. I yelp out in pain bending over into a crouch and clutching my nose. Graham stumbles back and trips over me, though he is still holding on tight to the statue.

Jesse approaches him slowly. "Hey, man, It's me, I think we should all just settle down and talk this through," He tries to act cool but his eyes are full of worry "I agree, I think Solstice is a great album and it really deserved to win."

Graham clumsily rolled onto his stomach and then stumbled back onto his feet. He was staring Jesse down like this was the Wild West.

Dina rushed over to me to make sure I was okay "Let me see," She gingerly moved my hands away from my nose, it had been knocked crooked and blood was pouring down to my chest where it pooled at the neckline of my dark dress.

Graham chucked the golden gramophone at Cat who jumped back when he did so and took a swing at Jesse who didn't move an inch or even shudder from his drunken punch. It also didn't help Graham that he was a solid four inches shorter than Jesse. Just as Graham was hyping himself up to send another hit, two bulky men grabbed either of Graham's arms and dragged him off the stage and out of sight.

I went home that night with nothing more than a broken nose, and no award but I could rest knowing that night went down infamously in history. My blood dripped onto the stage of the Grammys.

That was the night I truly became famous.

Grade eight- Age thirteen 

Middle school is hard.

Even harder when you have two friends, one of them is a guy who is obsessed with Star Wars and is hardly at school because he's always having an allergic reaction, and the other friend is my English teacher. I ate lunch in her class while he graded schoolwork on days that Milo was too sick to show up for school.

I never understood why kids are so fucking mean. Like sometimes I'm having a good day and then I remember when I sang at the middle school talent show.

Some kid who was destined to have a blunt in his hand finished doing tricks on his skateboard rolled off stage and it was my turn.

In the dimly lit auditorium, adorned with colourful decorations for the annual school talent show, I took center stage with my guitar, a blend of excitement and nervousness etched across my face. The hushed whispers of the audience faded as I strummed the first chords, the notes carrying the beginning to the first of many performances in my life

"If you gave me only one wish,

I wouldn't want to feel this way.

They told me I'd have your memory

But all I want is you to stay

And I can't stop my mind from haunting me,

It's like a scar on a butterfly's wing,

I wanted you to know."

I had worked tirelessly to perfect the lyrics to my first ever song, begging my uncle who was far more practiced for his input. This was way back when I still lived in fuck ass nowhere Alberta, I had that country twang in my high voice though it carried a specific tenderness.

"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day these bones will heal

And they'll leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do.

This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain

This beautiful pain for you."

However, as I sang my little heart out, a different melody began to play in the background - the snickers and hushed comments of some classmates who couldn't appreciate the vulnerability I laid bare on the stage. Their laughter, like discordant notes in a once-harmonious piece, reverberated through the auditorium.

"If I sailed the world on stormy seas

Chasing sunlight that I can't see.

I was a dreamer here before,

Before I woke up and fell to the floor

And I'd climb to heaven if I could find you,

Even with a scar this butterfly flew.

I wanted you to know."

I spotted one group in particular, they hated me already and this would give them all the more reason to bully me.

"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day, these bones will heal

And they'll leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do

This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain, this beautiful pain."

Maybe the lyrics were the slightest bit corny but I was thirteen and these girls were being little cunts. I bit back the tears I so clearly wanted to release when I saw a teacher had to walk over to the group of girls to stop their laughing. It wasn't just that one group though, kids scattered all over were fighting back giggles and that made it hurt all the worse.

"And all I'll ever need

And all I'll ever be,

Within every part of me is this,

This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day these bones will heal

And leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything 'cause it was all I ever knew.

This beautiful pain,

This beautiful pain,

This beautiful pain,

For you."

As the last note hung in the air, the room was divided. Some applauded, recognizing the authenticity of my performance, while others continued their derisive comments. So the majority who liked my singing were teachers, but that didn't matter, at least my music got through to someone.

The rest of the day was even more difficult than my three-minute performance, at least that was over quickly but the comments from Kennedy and her friends left me leaving school in tears.

I didn't go home that day, I walked the extra ten minutes to get to my uncle's house. Lugging my guitar and newfound hate for music with me. The façade, adorned with a mismatched collection of potted plants and a welcoming, hand-painted sign that read ‘Home Sweet Home’ hinted at my uncle's efforts to infuse joy into his surroundings. The paint on the wooden shutters might have faded, but they held stories of many seasons gone by. The roof, patched with a variety of materials, showed the resourcefulness of my uncle in their attempt to shield the interior from the whims of weather. 

He tried to make the house look nice for me and my little sister. He was by no means rich in money but rich in what mattered, the love he had for me was overflowing.

It wasn't a particularly nice neighbourhood either, his house was small, with two bedrooms and a basement I wasn't allowed in. But every time I think of the chipped blue walls, I feel a warm sense of nostalgia run down my spine.

"Who's there?" I hear Uncle Richie call from the kitchen where he is cooking something.

"Just me," I yell back, dropping my guitar case on the ground and belly-flopping onto his old brown leather couch that had more tears in it than I could count; he had tried to stich some of them up with embroidery floss but ultimately gave up, deciding to let it be since he couldn't afford to replace it.

"Why aren't you at your mom's, Chickadee?"

"I don't wanna see Mom right now, she's gonna put me in an even worse mood," I call back grabbing the TV remote off of the water-damaged coffee table.

"What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Minutes later Richie walks into the living room to join me, he carries a bowl of Kraft Mac and cheese with two forks shoved in it, he taps the bottom of my socked feet, signalling for me to move them so he can fit on the couch with me. Uncle Richie has a buzz cut and beard stubble that I have never seen him without, he has never been seen without a flannel on, not as long as I've been alive. What I remember the clearest about him though was the scar beneath his right eye, when I was younger he would tell me that he got it from a pirate though I stopped believing that. "So are you going to tell me why you're sulking?"

I ignore him and he reaches for the remote to turn the TV off "Hey, I watching that," I mutter.

"Well I'm waiting for you to answer me, Chickadee," He tilts his head "Or you won't get any kraft dinner."

"I sang at the talent show today."

"And?"

"Everyone made fun of me."

He furrows his eyebrows "Why would they do that?"

"Why do you think?" I snark "Because I'm not good enough and I'm a bad singer and I have a shit guitar." I immediately regret my words. Uncle Richie was the one who gave me that guitar, it was all he could manage with his income, it was his back when he had dreams of his own but he fixed it up so I could pick up where he left off. The guitar itself had a cracking between the face and the side that was being held together with duct tape, not to mention the whole thing was basically reinforced with superglue and there were Sharpie drabbles on it of poems and potential songs Richie started that I will be sure to finish.

"This is the best guitar in the world," He reaches behind the couch where I left it slugs the case onto his lap and opens it to showcase the guitar "Because it's full of something money can’t buy, there is love built into this guitar and every time you play it you feel that love."

"I don't feel love when I play," I say, eyes brimming with tears.

"Then you're not playing right," He smiles, discarding the case on the floor "Did you play the song I helped you write?"

I nod "Kennedy said it was worse than shoving nails into her ears and that my guitar was decrepit and even more fugly than I am."

"Well Kennedy is a little cunt," He answers "Don't tell anyone I said that." His words make me giggle. I watch him intently as he begins to strum some chords on the guitar, the beginning of Beautiful Pain, he stops when I don't sing the lyrics, glancing at me until the words finally fall from my lips.

After the first two Stanzas, he hands the guitar off to me, nodding his head along to my gentle strums.

When I finish the song and strike the last chord, Richie claps a huge smile on his face "Do you feel the love yet?"

"I dunno."

"Then play again," He says "Don't think about those bitchy little girls," His tone is dead serious "You just gave all of those people a free performance, in ten years they are going to be paying hundreds just to get a bad seat at one of your shows and they will buried so far in the back of your mind that you won't even remember their names or all of those awful words they say to you, the only words that will matter are the ones you sing."

"So what do I do?"

"Play music because you love it, it doesn't matter if it takes you anywhere or if it makes you any money. That's why you should play, play for love not greed."

Wordlessly I begin the song over again, blocking out the rest of the world while I softly sing the lyrics. I strum each cord perfectly, my singing to match. I will forever think back to this moment, this is where I can pinpoint the exact second I fell in love with music.

I wrap up the song and Richie speaks up "Do you still want to watch TV?"

I shake my head "Can you help me write another song?" 

-

Sinjinisoverboard: I love love love the new single but does anyone else miss her debut era?????? I feel like she's sold out

     woodmonkey92: Reply to Sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ this is so true, I remember when she would sing in parks and she was actually happy just being herself

     theend_is_n3ar: Reply to woodmonkey92╰┈➤ bruh you don't remember that, she was a nobody when she sang in parks plus she literally got heckled and ridiculed by her classmates so bad that she gave up on singing in public and almost gave up on music as a whole

     user37768638493: Reply to sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ as much as I love her it really seems like she's fallen off the rails

conner_stoll_it: She's not even the same person anymore. I fell in love her original music and who she was when she wrote it, then she signed with a record label now she's an in-genuine copy of every pop star.

     Alina_b12: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ you fell in love with her old music?? 💀💀💀 she wasn't even past 100 subscribers when she released her debut album and after she released she literally gained 11 listeners on Spotify to get a total of 24 so don't lie and say that you heard it before hearing her mainstream music

     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ Her old music was so relatable, she got famous and it’s kind of hard to relate to someone who's net worth is more money then I can even fathom

     hazeinmorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤I think that's why it was so easy for everybody to side with Ellie during the breakup, Ellie kept true to who she is, her girlfriend however did not.

     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to hazeinthemorningcraze╰┈➤*fiancé

     hazeinthemorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤ ew don't remind me

     maiya_onthec0ast: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ We should remember that no one listened to her when she released her debut music. She said in an interview that before she signed with Atlantic Records she had 24 listeners and 76 subscribers. We only know who she is because of her mainstream music, you aren't better than anyone for needlessly hating on her.

stargirlthesequel: God who else misses the southern twang she used to have in her voice?

      Vampire_empire2: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤LMAO acting like you know her is crazy

      Aline_b12: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤parasocial relationships are really becoming apparent rn

thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo: It's soooooo annoying when people hate on Solstice for being mainstream like all Ashmen discography isn't top on charters since they dropped their first album

     dancedancerev0lution: Reply to thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo╰┈➤I've been saying this! Ellie has been in the industry way longer, she's always had a big fan base, even when she was still a solo artist!

    elliespurplemonster: Reply to thismightbeskylaarwwhiteyo╰┈➤ Ellie Williams on 🔝

    call_urm0ther: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤ kys she treated her fiancé horribly

    elliespurplemonster: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤ how would you know that????? Were you there??????

    follow_kendra88: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was the one who was treated horribly in that relationship, have you even listened to Smokey Eyes?

    ellies_no2girl: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was so in love and just got used for fame 🥺💔

     call_urm0ther: Reply to ellies_no2girl╰┈➤fuck off with your cringe ass emojis

sorryyileft___:You guys are so weird for saying Ellie was used by her ex for fame, they literally were on the same show at the same age at the same time and got thrown into the limelight at the same time, Ellie and the Ashmen just got more popular.

   mybodyisacage: Reply to sorryyileft___╰┈➤Ellie had a bit of a YouTube presence before she was on Stardom, it wasn't a crazy number but it was a cult following and that's why she won Stardom, bc she had fans to begin with then gained even more after being on national television

    elliespurplemonster: Reply to mybodyisacage╰┈➤She didn't win bc of following she won bc she's a good artist

    mybodyisacage: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤I never said she wasn't

bodhi_van34: I thought the whole thing at the Grammy's was an act until I saw all those news articles about Graham Wilson getting arrested

  carlyswarly: Reply to bodhi_van34╰┈➤They did a drug test when he got arrested and found coke in his system

    may0mayyyo: Reply to carlyswarly╰┈➤A busboy who worked the event said that Graham was doing cocaine in the bathroom

   body_van34: Reply to may0mayyyo╰┈➤ LMAO WTF 

charlotte_5freakingdidit: EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ELLIE WILLIAMS BEING MEAN TO HER EX BUT GRAHAM WILSON LITERALLY ASSAULTED A POPSTAR ON STAGE AND TRIED TO THROW HANDS WITH JESSE LMAO IM DIFFUSING

juliaa__stirling: The way Ellie was laughing when Amelia said she messed up the cards was so rude and immature. Her fans are insane for defending her. All of that just because her ex fiancé gave a speech about working hard, imagine how she felt after being so honest with everyone just for her to not actually win and think about how she feels now reading all of these posts.

botoxangel: Celebrities have feelings too, Amelia made a mistake she's probably embarrassed but not as embarrassed as that poor woman is for putting her soul into a speech just for her ex and all of her fan girls to ridicule her for a mistake that wasn't even hers.

    karaleaah778: Reply to botoxangel╰┈➤exactly! And why are people blaming Amelia??? She was given the envelope by someone else, she genuinely thought her friend won.

carlosislost: Why is Graham even invited to these events?????????

katie_katelynsm1th: Reply to carlosislost╰┈➤Bc it's funny when he causes a scene

howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad: I know you guys think this Grammy situation is so funny but it's really not. Graham is clearly mentally ill, this is a cry for help.

   elleryc3llery: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad╰┈➤Dude it's hilarious

  3emmettttt: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeing sad╰┈➤The way you're worried about the has been and not the girl whose nose he broke

allysaaaa663638: LMAO THE WAY SHE ACTUALLY THOUGHT SHE WON THE AWARD AND SHE DESERVED IT SHDBDBEGHWWBSV

jessicadacoolest: Ellie is so real for laughing bc I would've done the same tbh

hennyrumwine: Dumb bitch deserved to be hit lollllllll

4444carmencarmen4444: I love the Ashmen's music but I hate Ellie sm, I just feel like she's a fuck girl and she gives me very rude vibes. Like laughing at her ex and then mocking her heartfelt speech is INSANE anyways stream Solstice

sittingwaiting_wishing: I honestly have hated Ellie since the breakup, she's changed so much since then. She used to be funny now she's just mean.

carissaandher_h0ttakes: I still think it's kind of crazy that Dina and Jesse followed through with Ellie on Smokey Eyes because they were really close to her when she was engaged to Ellie, can't imagine how many ties that album severed

    elliessmokeyeye: Reply to carissaandher_h0ttakes╰┈➤I think about this all the time! She was literally the god mother for Dina and Jesses kid

     carissaandher_h0ttakes: Reply to elliessmokeyeye╰┈➤it make me think that she might've done something to them to make them hate her the way Ellie does, Ellie did say that she didn't write all of the songs for Smokey Eyes 🤔🤔🤔

"Do you see how this backlash doesn't look good for anyone?" My agent, Caroline asks after showing me several Twitter posts that are under the trending tag.

"Well, it's not really my fault."

"Nonetheless, I think It's time for a rebrand." She sets her phone face down and looks at me from across her desk "Do you remember when you went on tour with the Ashmen when you were around twenty-one?"

My eyes go wide, I'm already shaking my head "Please-

"This is an awful event that you can turn into an amazing opportunity and capitalize on it," The backdrop behind Caroline is almost blinding, it's an annoyingly hot LA day and I want nothing more than to be back in Canada and swimming in lakes with my little sister.

"Caroline, mentally I can't handle a tour with Ellie."

"Mentally, you're gonna have to," She says, getting stern "Your fans either hate each other or they love both of you and feel like their parents have divorced."

I know that I will argue with Caroline for the next hour and threaten to fire her but eventually, she will win, so until then I am preoccupied with thoughts of everything but Ellie, soaking in the last moments I will have until she envelopes my brain and suffocates me from the inside out.

I am sure that with Ellie, I will die before winter comes and I am doubtful that I will ever bloom again.

#ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x you #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #tlou #ellie williams x reader #abby anderson #ellie williams au #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #joel and ellie #ellie tlou #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie williams x reader fluff #ellie williams angst #fluff #angst #rockstar gf #pop star #celebrities #celebrity au

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

The Date

Older Eddie Munson x Reader

Part one

Mini part two.

Your feelings for Eddie are deepening but he drops the news that he has a date.

Angsty, 18+ Minors shoo!!, jealous reader, longing.

Looks like this might be my new series ❤️

You cuddle into Eddie, softly stroking over his chest and he presses a brief kiss to your hair. Both of you spent after a morning of amazing sex.

Since realising how badly you had fallen in love with him, you were wrestling with the feelings and trying to fight them even though they were threatening to spill over.

"Can I see you later?" you ask hopefully, it's probably a long shot as he never stays but there's no harm in asking right?

"I have a date sweetheart" he replies and you feel something in your heart crack as you take in what he said.

"A date?" you murmur and he nods as he gets up and your mind begins to spiral. The date will most likely be perfect, a perfect woman for Eddie and how could they not fall for him? He was incredible.

So sexy, sarcastic but sweet and had the ability to make you feel safe and contented when you were with him.

"Who's the lucky girl?" you ask and know you can't say anything about this. You were with your ex and Eddie never said a word, didn't give a fuck. So how could you say anything about this?

"Oh, I met her at work sweetheart. Fixed up her car" he explains and you nod feeling sick to your stomach.

"Cool. That's great Eddie" he looks at you for a few seconds, his eyesbrows furrowing in worry.

"You okay?" you smile and hide the pain you're feeling, find your clothes and pull them on hastily. Somewhere deep down you were hoping you meant something to Eddie, that obviously wasn't true.

It's a crushing feeling and you struggle to paint a smile on your face when he gently tugs you back to him.

"Stay. You don't need to rush off" he frowns and you shake your head. It's not like you could stay and wait for him to come back from his date? What if he brought her home.

That leaves an even worse feeling in your stomach and you tug away from him. "Would look weird if I'm still here and you bring your date home Eddie" you murmur.

He looks at you with an unreadable expression, you avoid his pretty brown eyes and get set to leave.

"Sweetheart" he begins but you cut off whatever he's about to say with a smile that feels all fake.

"I should go, I'll see you soon Eddie" you leave before he can say anything else. Trudge home with your heart full of longing and an ache that won't go away.

❤️

You heard Eddie leave for his date a whole ago and do your best to take your mind of it. Feel silly as you get teary at just the thought.

Honestly this was ridiculous. You had to be stronger, protect your heart, you should have listened to Eddie in the first place when you said exactly what this was.

No strings attached. He always said that so you don't know why you thought it would be any different.

At some point you must fall asleep, wake to the sound of Eddie's motorbike and a soft knock at your door.

Sleepily you get up and answer it, Eddie takes one look at your comfy pj's and smirks at the design.

"Well that's just fucking cute" he says and you open your mouth then close it again. Shouldn't he be with his date? You ask him this and he shrugs.

"She was a sweetheart but boring as fuck, nearly fell asleep waiting for dessert. Don't think I'll be looking for a second date"

The ache in your chest disappears a smidge and you open the door wider so he steps inside.

Looks like your night was looking up after all.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #older eddie munson

[captain-mj]

I’m on my hands and knees BEGGING you for a stripper au 🙇🙇🙇🙇

Of course!! I've been dying to make one of these!!

Soap should not be here. He's a college professor for fuck's sake. He makes decent money but it's the principle of the things. Why would he go to a strip club when he could go to the bar and actually go home with someone?

But it was what his friends had invited him to do and he went along with it.

He tried not to overthink his clothing or the chances of him seeing any of his students there.

Soap ordered a scotch and tried to find somewhere to sit. It was a mixed club with men and women. It seemed... a little seedy despite the more expensive feeling of the place. Something about the entire thing felt off. He brushed off his feelings, blaming Catholic judgement for it.

Chuy had amassed a group of men and women around him to listen to his cryptid facts. He occasionally passed them money so they were making something but they were also choosing to stay next to him.

Gaz was staring at Chuy, trying to understand how he managed to do that.

Alejandro had disappeared... somewhere.

Soap took a sip of his drink, liking it at least. He doubted it was anything too fancy but it did the job just fine.

Pretty people went past him. Some flirted or tried to get him to take a lap dance, but he wasn't interested. They were nice, but not really his type. Nor did he want to blow a bunch of money just for the sake of it.

Soap found a place to sit where he could watch the stage, trying to see where everyone had disappeared to.

There was someone his type. Tall. Dressed in black. Broad shoulders and burly chest. Makeup all around his eyes. Pretty eyeliner.

The man, Ghost if his name tag meant anything, looked more like a bouncer than a stripper. But he was shirtless with just a mask and tight pants and he was eyeing Soap.

Big doe brown eyes staring into him, silently asking if he wanted his attention.

Soap was very happy there was an ATM nearby. With a confidence that was very much faked, he motioned for him to come over.

Ghost walked over. He didn't bat his eyelashes or immediately straddle him. He just stood between Soap's legs and looked down at him, almost like he inconvenienced him.

Soap put a twenty in Ghost's pocket and that look melted away, replaced with something much nicer.

"You look lonely."

Fucking Brits. Of course he was British. That didn't change that Soap's body had a visceral reaction to his voice.

"It's cause I am. Come to give me some company?"

Ghost laughed at him. It made Soap shrink back and his cheeks flushed. If anything though, it made him a little harder in his jeans. "You're cute. Name?"

Soap looked down his body, admiring the hard muscle and the slightly softer stomach. His hands fidgeted. "Soap."

"You can touch. And my name is Ghost."

Soap was immediately all over him. He'd like to use his mouth but that would be a little much in such a public area.

It would occur to him in exactly six hours that one of the biggest rules about strip clubs is you don't touch the dancer. And that Ghost had not let anyone else touch him that night. That would be in six hours though and right now, he was just marveling at the scarring along Ghost's body.

They were impossible to see with the club lighting, but he could feel them under his fingertips. The texture similar to a scar he had on his hand from dropping a knife.

He squeezed his eyes tight and gripped Ghost's sides. Ghost's hand grabbed his chin and made him look up. Dark eyes inches from his face.

"You alright, love?"

Soap shoved more money into Ghost's hands. "How much for a private dance?"

"I don't usually do those."

Soap must've looked distressed because Ghost, the saint, took pity on him. "Fine. How much do you have?"

"Three hundred dollars."

"I'll give you an hour."

Soap nodded and followed him excitedly. He didn't miss Ghost's amused glance.

The man grabbed the pole, slowly spinning around it as he watched Soap sit down. "You're adorable."

Soap blushed more and dropped his money at Ghost's feet. "Going to lose the mask?"

"You don't want me to. Trust me." Ghost jumped up and spun faster, suspending himself and expose his chest more.

"You ugly under there?"

"Quite the opposite."

"Worried I'll fall in love with you?"

"Absolutely." Ghost spun around slowly and arched his back. "Can't have you following me home, vying for me attention."

Soap felt himself getting hard. His body moved with such fluidity and grace that it was hard to not think of how it would feel to be underneath him. To have Ghost grabbing his hips. Would he prefer to be on top or bottom? He was more than happy either way. As long as those fucking abs were pressed against him, he could live with it.

Ghost crossed over to him and straddled him. He was so much bigger. So much fucking bigger. "Your hands go below my belt and I'll get you banned."

"Yes, sir."

"I like sir."

"Anything you want, sir." Soap smiled at him and put his hands on Ghost's waist. He ground down on him, the pressure against his body making him half crazy. His hips jerked up and Ghost paused, glaring.

"Don't move."

Soap took a deep breath and nodded. Ghost started to move again, letting Soap get a good look on him. It was so easy to imagine less clothing. God, he'd bankrupt himself to have Ghost riding him like this. His pants had slid down to see his v-line.

Soap slid his hands further up and touched his throat. Ghost purred and pressed in harder. "You're a pretty guy, you know that?"

Soap blushed more. "Thank you, sir."

Ghost stood up and trailed his hands between Soap's thighs, so tempting. Was he actually going to?? To touch?? him?? He was hoping for a lot here but his hands were getting so close.

Gaz knocked quickly. "Hey, Johnny, we gotta go. Right now. We're getting kicked out. Alejandro flirted a little too much with his favorite stripper."

Soap felt his heart sink. "Wai-"

Ghost stood up and fixed his pants. "Oh. You're Vargas's friend?"

Soap cringed. "Ah. Is that a bad thing?"

"Get out."

Soap moped the entire night, being extra mean to Alejandro for ruining that for him.

"I think I just missed the love of my life."

"He was a stripper. He just wanted your money." Chuy pointed out. He was currently washing the phone numbers off his arm. All of them were glaring at him.

Soap went to bed and maybe cried a little. Just a little. He refused to be that heartbroken over a guy he met for five minutes. His dick was heartbroken though.

Fucking Vargas.

He couldn't blame him too much. It was Rodolfo he had been flirting with. Those two had been chasing each other for ages and now Alejandro just blew as much money on him as he could until he ran out and Rodolfo kicked him out for it.

Soap crawled out of bed that day and went to work. He passed all of his colleagues, still thinking of those dark eyes and gorgeous body.

"Professor MacTavish." One of his colleagues greeted him as he passed.

Soap froze and turned around. Dark eyes. Gorgeous body. Ginger hair.

Professor Riley, someone Soap barely interacted with, stood there. Cardigan wrapped around him. He wore a medical mask thanks to self proclaimed "hideous" scarring.

"Hi..."

Ghost looked at him. "Yes, MacTavish?"

"I..."

Ghost tilted his head, looking confused. "Something wrong?"

Soap shook his head. "No..."

Ghost nodded and turned away to keep making his tea.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost

[such-expensive-mistakes]

halfa!Steph AU (part 1)

I'm still working on the Superpham AU but I couldn't stop thinking about this idea.

-----

Once upon a time, there was a girl who thought she could be a hero. And then she died. She died slowly and painfully and steeped in guilt over having accidentally set off a gang war that destroyed the city. It's a neat little story about hubris and knowing your place and why Batman is always right.

Except she didn't. Die, that is. She flatlined on the operating table and Leslie faked her death. And when that girl came back, she put on a costume again and became the third Batgirl. It's a heartwarming story about stubbornness and learning to rely on others and proving Batman wrong.

The truth, Stephanie thinks, is somewhere in between.

When she talks about having died, people treat as— not as a joke, the pain is still too raw for that, but as an exaggeration. Dramatic license.

Sometimes Steph thinks that's all it is.  But she feels like she died.  She dreams about it sometimes.  Not just Black Mask, although he does haunt far too many of her dreams, but something else.  Something in-between.

It's probably just the trauma.  That's what Leslie says, when Stephanie finally asks her.

Stephanie doesn't ask Leslie about her newfound strength, or about how sharp her senses have become.  

You can't go through something like Stephanie did and come out unchanged.  That's what Babs says, and she would know.  Steph doesn't think they're thinking about the same kind of changes, though.

-----

Stephanie lands on a rooftop and looks down at the white van parked below.  It's not a particularly notable vehicle, except for the occupants.  

"What are they doing?" Steph asks.

"I don't know."  Babs sounds frustrated, and no wonder.  There aren't many people who can keep Oracle out of their systems, and Steph wouldn't have judged these guys to be among their ranks.  "I'll keep trying to get through their firewalls, but I'm flying blind here.  Keep an eye on them, but be careful."

"You know me," Steph says.  "Careful is my middle name."

Babs doesn't even bother to muster up a sarcastic response to that, which is how Steph knows she's preoccupied.

These guys have been running all over Gotham for the past few weeks.  They're dressed in immaculate white suits and carrying unfamiliar weapons, and they seem to be taking some kind of readings on unfamiliar instruments.  None of that is a crime, but it's suspicious, and Oracle's inability to find out any more about them is even more suspicious.

And that means they're officially Steph's problem.

The men are doing the same thing they've been doing the last few times Steph has watched them.  It's not particularly exciting.  

"Batgirl," Oracle says.

"Please tell me there's a robbery or something that needs my attention," Steph replies.  "These guys are so boring."

"Sorry.  Do you think you can get one of their gadgets for me?  I want a better look."

"Can do, boss."  

Stephanie carefully climbs down to street level, staying out of sight.  She's gotten a lot sneakier since her not-death.  She tells herself it's all of her training and practice, finally paying off, but regardless of the cause, the guys in white have no chance of spotting her.  

They're standing near the front of the van, arguing about something.

"The apparition was spotted here last night," one says.

"That doesn't mean it's going to return!" another responds. 

Sounds like they're looking for something in particular.  Which Steph and Babs had already guessed, but it's nice to have confirmation.

Steph slips toward the back of the van, which is wide open.  Not smart, especially in Gotham, but she's got a feeling these guys aren't from Gotham.  

The inside of their van reminds her of a sci-fi movie; everything is blindingly white and chrome, with glowing green accents.  And lots and lots of those weapons.  Whoever they are, they clearly have a nice sized budget.

Steph grabs one of the guns and a handheld instrument like the one the guys outside are waving around, but as soon as she does, all the instruments the guys in front of the van are holding start going wild.  

"There it is!" one of them yells.  They all start shooting at her, which is how Steph learns that they're using some kind of fancy laser guns.  Because regular guns just aren't space age enough for these guys.

That's Steph's cue to get out.  She grapples back to the rooftop, just barely avoiding getting hit by the laser guns.

It’s easy enough to lose them from the rooftops.  At Oracle’s direction, she makes her way back to Firewall.  She tugs her mask off and hands the stolen tech over to Babs.

“The’re looking for something,” she says.  “An apparition.”

Babs hums in acknowledgment.  “Hopefully these will have some answers.”  She switches on the— scanner?  Steph’s pretty sure that’s its function, anyway.  It starts beeping wildly.

Steph jumps back, startled.  The beeping stops.

“Well,” Babs says.  “I think we have an idea what they were looking for.”

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp fic #stephanie brown #halfa steph au

[deadpool15]

Sugarbaby vibes ✨️

I walked out of the fitting room wearing the shit Chanel set. Let's be honest I looked to fucking die for, but once I saw the price it looked mid. Of course I wanted it and speaking of price it's Chanel what did I expect. If anything I suggested, let's go thrifting, as you can tell I didn't grow up with money. I'm still trying to get used to living this life now, it's crazy hoe just last week I was struggling to afford a pack of fucking Ramen at the convenience store and now I live in a penthouse. Your girl did, in fact, come up in life. You all better be proud. All thanks to the one and only Bada Lee.

Bada is about 28, and I'm 22, so there is a slight age gap if you care about any of that. Shit I didn't. I just needed someone to pay my bills. How we met it quite an interesting story if you think about it, I mean, I didn't sign up for a sugar mama like on the weird ass movies or stories you see on Wattpad. I was, in fact, working as a waiter in this high-end restaurant with might I add a shitty pay. Why are we serving all this expensive ass shit and in only getting made a few bucks in an hour? It's giving slavery, and not mentions my boss who, like most men, convince himself within the 3 minutes of hiring me that I was destined to be his furtre wife and the mother of his children as he call it. If you wanted to know what crazy looks like, we'll Mr. Kim is a prime example.

But we are getting of topic. See, I don't wanna tell you about my overly obsessive ass boss. I wanna tell you about the women who turned my life around. Serving tables is absolute shit, especially when no matter how rich one is, they never tip. "Hey Blue, bossman says he needs you at table six." I turned around to my partner in crime, Leslie. I'm happy to see her until I realized what she said, "I'm on break, though, like all these people around here . Can't he bother someone else." She gave me a sad smile and shrugged, "no, you know he likes to watch you suffer, because he expects after a while you will give in and let him take you out on a date." I stare at her with disgust.

"Yea, never mind your you're right. I'll take my chances with the wolves again. I'm just get going. If he asks again, make sure to tell him I chose getting screamed and yelled at my rich elderly woman over acknowledging his existence. " I hurried and jog off before she could say anything, grabbing my notepad and pen out of my pocket I had towards table six. With the biggest fake smile on. The love I have for these customers is crazy.

I stand there saying my usual line in the most chipper voice one can muster, whiteout even looking at the person sitting down in front of me. "Hello, ladies and gentlemen. I'm blue and very happy to serve you tonight. So what can I get, you folks?" I hear someone speak before muttering something about how I'm pretty, then I finally gather the courage to look up and see a group of women. All dressed to perfection, clothes tailored just to fit their figure. Those majority of them look around my age or slightly older. After a moment of being caught in a daze while overanlyzing them, I turn to her the tallest one of the bun speak up. "I would like to have a water to drink and just some shrimp pasta."

I make eye contact with her and my God. This is the most beautiful creature I've ever seen in my life. It almost feels like i should have to pay a fee to look upon her face. My stare moves down to her lips and not e how nice and pump they are. I would kill to suck on those lips, to feel what they tasted like even. I realize I've just been staring at her while the rest of the women have spoken uo about their order already. "Oo, I'm s-so sorry." I state being an absolute nervous wreck while looking down at my notepad. I hope she didn't notice that. "It's fine, sweetheart," I heard the girl that was referred to ad Lusher somewhere in the conversation state to me. I hurry up and excuse myself to go get their orders. She keeps staring at me, bitting the inner part of her check. Eventually, they leave after a while, leaving a $200 tip for me. I almost couldn't believe it. This I'd the first time someone has ever given me that much money as a tip.

After a while, the girl continues to come to our little restaurant. Same table, same confidence aura and everything. She makes it seem as if she is trying to just get something to eat. We continue to see each other even after work. She would pop in on my breaks, and around the time, I would clock out. She was intimidating. I'll get her that. I spoke with class, and her vibe just let you know she had money. And it seemed she had her eyes on a certain girl. Me. Though, after beating around the bush, Bada told me exactly what she wanted. "I want to take care of you. You'll never have to worry about a single thing when you're with me. Or lift a finger. Give you the life you deserve, baby. I mean, you are a cute little waitress, but you can be so much more. Why waste your time when you have me. Just say the words, and I'll take care of you."

Some might've immediately said yes, and to be honest, I would've to. Until Bada told me there were rules. Which did kinda throw me off a bit. I mean, I thought I had the whole idea down until well, I realized I didn't. It wasn't just about the money it was the pleasure. How much would she give me, and fuck did she give me a lot. Well lived by only a few rules, but Bada took them very seriously.

Rule 1: Don't question anything

Rule 2: Don't talk back

Rule 3: Don't touch yourself

You should've seen the look on my face when I heard the third rule, I mean, at the bright age of 22, who the hell doesn't masturbate. Literally made no sense to me until she tried to explain it further. "I give you pleasure. I'm the only one who should be touching you. I'm general baby. You belong entirely to me. That's how this works. Therefore, you shouldn't be doing anything without my permission cupcake." After finally going over the terms, I agreed in the end. At the end of the day, I was a broke college student who desperately needed the money, and Bada just so happens to be the sexy older one willing to give it to me. In a sense, I was happy with my current predicament. My life was going well. Now, back to what I was saying earlier.

I stared at myself in the mirror. Sometimes, I forget that I can look this good. "Yea, ayye, get it, girl." In the process of hyping myself up, I finally hear a voice speak up from behind me, scaring the absolute shit out of me. "I'm glad you like it, baby. It does look good on you, I told you I have an eye for beautiful things. I mean, just look at my baby girl." She says while holding on to my waist, kissing my neck slowly. I smile for a while until I realize what she is doing. "Baby, we are in public, a fitting room at that. We aren't doing that here," I say, trying to be firm while avoiding her glaze in the mirror.

"What did I tell you about saying no to me, huh? Do you make the rules?" She forcefully grabbed my chin when she caught on to the act. She grabs my breast while still making eye contact with me in the mirror. "That's right, just stand right here, ok? Gonna be my good girl, right?" I stare at the door, thinking about the people outside that will hear us. While I'm thinking about them, Bada moved the hand that was holding me under my top, slowly circling my right nipple. "Gonna be good, right?" She asks again,she never has enough patience to ask again. It seems she is being nice today. I nod my head at her question this time.

"Word babygirl, I need to hear you. Let them hear you. Just stop all that thinking for me." I whimper at her words. Finally, forgetting about the staff in the store. She moves her hand down my body, teasing me with her pace. "P-please, I'll be g-good. Gonna be so good for you." She smirks, looking down at my face before moving her hand towards my soaked pussy. "Always so f-fucking good for me, aren't you? My precious little baby. Just needs to be filled, like always." I look into her eyes in the mirror about to answer her before she insert a finger into me, all while still playing with my breasts. She knows my body like the back of her hand. Doesn't even have to try to find the spot.

"Yea, right there, come on. I can't hear you, baby girl." I know exactly the game she is playing at, but I can only stand there moaning like a bitch in heat being held on my weak jelly-like legs as she adds two more fingers. While she grinds her hips into me, fuck those bloody dancers and there hips. "Y-yes y-yes... shit o fuck right there". She just smiles at my reactions. Assuming to her if anything. "Were gonna buy this little outfit, then I'm gonna by 28 fucking more just to fuck the shit out of you in them. And you gonna let me, aren't you?. Gonna take it like a good girl who just needs her holes filled, right?" I shake my head, screaming yes over and over again while nodding profusely. Seems that's the only word my brain can come up with as she starts to suck down on my neck leaving marks while circling my clit with her thumbs. And she still continues to thrust those same three fingers in and out of me ob command.

"Fucked you dumb, aww that's adorable baby. But we just started, " She says while smirking, and I stare at her in a mix of fear and pleasure. "Now open those legs wider for me, baby girl."

#swf2 #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader #bada lee #bada lee x reader

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - Part 2

To make this work (I'm sorry) the reader has a very large family, and they will have names (I genuinely cannot be asked to try and figure that out and make it entirely... non OC)

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: swearing, lockwood and children so beware your hearts, lockwood gets hugged and can't deal with it, the family members are mean, reader doesn't eat much, lockwood is still a bit of an arse and so is the reader (but hers is more justified), proofread maybe once

series master list

So far, it had absolutely been a shitshow.

Lockwood had remained silent for the next hour and a half of the train journey, and with not much else to do but plan every tiny detail of their fake relationship Y/n thought she might be going mad.

Luckily they already knew a lot about each other, so they could get away with not going over basic details about the other's life, but Y/n hadn't talked much about her family to anyone other than George in rants after phone calls with them, so if they thought that she was talking shit about them behind their backs (which she was, but they didn't need to know that) then they would descend like vultures.

She was disrupted from her thoughts when Lockwood stood up from the table seats they'd managed to get, his leg kicking at hers as he manoeuvred into the aisle, not sparing a second glance at Y/n. She frowned, about to call after him and ask where he was going, but when he disappeared out the doors and into the next carriage she decided that she didn't really care, and at least he wasn't brooding in her field of vision.

Y/n had barely been on her own for a minute when a family of five came into the carriage (they must have got on at the station they had recently stopped at), and with her being the only one sat on a table on her own and all the others taken, they made for her. She swallowed, for once wishing Lockwood was here to make her look less selfish, and sat up a little straighter in her seat.

"Excuse me, but would you mind moving? We've got three kids and need somewhere for us all to sit, and since there's only one of you..." The man trailed off, looking at Y/n pointedly, and while initially she had wanted to hold her ground she could feel herself shrinking under his gaze.

Where the fuck is Lockwood?!

He could talk his way out of this, she was sure. It was one of the few things she begrudgingly accepted was brilliant about him. It's not like Y/n didn't need the table; Lockwood's huge bag was sat on it and taking up most of the space, and her own backpack was on the seat next to her, but suddenly her breath was coming too quickly and her throat was closing up, and the man in front of her looked a little too similar to that one uncle-

"Is everything alright?" Lockwood's voice broke through the silence, and Y/n was annoyed to find herself reaching for him.

"Yeah, we just need this table, but this girl isn't moving."

"Sorry, my girlfriend's pretty tired at the moment, what with agents being in high demand right now. How about if we share? I think she needs a nap, poor thing, and we've got rather a lot of luggage between the two of us. I'll move over her side, shall I? Then you can take the other- yes, hello, little one." One of the couples' children had been tugging on Lockwood's hand, and Y/n could see the man's posture relax the more Lockwood talked, watching as her fake-boyfriend picked up the small child with ease and planted him on the train seat. The other two followed quickly, glad to not be on their feet any longer, and Lockwood came to sit next to Y/n, pulling his bag closer to them on the table and shoving her backpack onto the floor between everyone's legs. "See, you three all fit there perfectly don't you! You're only small," Lockwood was saying to the children, not yet noticing Y/n's shaky state. Their parents seemed to be content with the arrangement, taking their own seats across the aisle where they could watch their kids, and through the slight haze covering her eyes Y/n could see them visibly relax.

Once everybody was settled, Lockwood shuffled around in his seat trying to get comfortable, and when his elbow accidentally jabbed into Y/n's side he frowned at her.

"You alright?" he whispered, not wanting to draw the attention of their new companions. She took a moment to reply, not quite registering that Lockwood had actually said anything.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"Right... just- you didn't say anything when I elbowed you just then and I'm worried you might be having a stroke."

"I'm not having a stroke, you idiot," she said, glare appearing on her face. She had some much better names for him, but with three children under the age of ten in front of her, she figured she should stick to the more family-friendly ones. Lockwood smiled, bright and wide and far too blinding.

"That's better." Apparently he had forgotten about the mishap on the platform earlier, and his previous ignorance of her presence, because after that he launched into a whole spiel of what their plan would be.

"Actually," she interrupted, not caring that he looked annoyed, "I've had a lot of time to figure this out. I just need you to confirm or come up with something better on a few things and we should be fine."

"Alright then, what's your grand plan?"

"Well we already know most of the basic stuff about each other, what with living together for nearly three years, so that solves that problem. One thing I did think of was family, since neither of us have actually..." she trailed off, unsure where the two of them stood on that subject given what had happened earlier. Lockwood was only nodding, his brow furrowed.

"Come to think of it, you've never really mentioned your family much," he said.

Y/n shrugged. "I just don't... you know... I just don't..." she flailed her hands around in front of her for a few moments, trying to come up with the right words.

"I don't know," Lockwood replied coolly, "Should I?"

"I just thought I'd tell you about who's gonna be there today, which is my mum and dad, my four brothers, my sister, my Aunt Linda, and her daughter Stephanie. Oh, and my grandparents on my mother's side, but they'll probably be in bed by the time we get there."

"That's... a lot of people."

"Yeah. There'll be more for the party tomorrow, and then the day after will be the same group from today again, and we're leaving that day anyway."

"Okay... what about names?"

"My mum is called Emma, my dad is Ben, my brothers are Sam, John, William, and Tom from oldest to youngest, and then my sister is called Olivia. My Grandma is Jean and my Gramps is Richard."

"Right." Lockwood paused for a moment, reciting the names under his breath. "Anything else I should know?"

"Aunt Linda and Steph are gonna be the worst, since they always try and make life miserable for me. They're ridiculously rich and like making fun of my job- oh, yeah, barely anybody supports my life choices or my job as an agent, so just prepare for that. Uh, where was I? Oh yeah, Steph and Linda will try and find out anything that could be used against us, so I really hope you can act because otherwise they'll figure this whole thing out in seconds."

"Wait-"

"And my brother Will is the most supportive, 'cause he knows that there are options for work after my Talent fades and I'm not going to be out on the streets-"

"Y/n-"

"-and he, John and Sam all play rugby so try not to piss them off because they're twice your size and will snap you like a twig-"

"Y/n!"

"What?!"

"You need to slow down! Go back to the part about your family not supporting your job?"

"Oh, there's not much to it, really." She felt awkward now, his gaze far too sharp for her liking. If he knew the full extent of how much she didn't like her family, he would waste no time in using it to make fun of her and take the upper hand while he could, and she would be left to sink further into herself until she disappeared. "They just don't think I'll have many options, so they want me to think about my next steps."

"Okay..." Lockwood trailed off, getting distracted by something the children were talking about and being asked his opinion on starfish. He looked as though he was about to start conversing with her again, but the train pulled into the platform they needed, and Lockwood was all business getting the luggage out safely.

~~~

"Are you alright?"

Y/n jumped a little in the back of the taxi, not expecting Lockwood's voice so close to her ear. "Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You're very bouncy. If you're fine then could you not? You're jolting me."

Why had she thought he was trying to be nice? She should have known better by now that he wouldn't ever be that way with her, but it still stung.

Truthfully, she was on the verge of tears.

She wouldn't ever tell Lockwood that, of course, because how could he understand? He seemed to walk into any situation effortlessly, with endless optimism and charm that made life easy for him. Y/n was stuck panicking about seeing her family again, because if she couldn't even stand up to some random strangers on the train, how was she ever going to stand up to her family? No, she would just have to do her best to hide everything from Lockwood, to reduce the amount of blackmail material he would have against her.

~~~

The taxi pulled up outside the large cottage-style house, and Lockwood let out a low whistle.

"L/n, you never said your family was this fancy."

"They aren't. It was my Grandma's house, then she got dodgy knees and never moved out, and we moved in after selling up our old place to look after her and Gramps. We're about as fancy as your family, Lockwood, in that we too have multiple mortgages on this building to keep it."

"Anthony."

"What?" Y/n frowned, not sure what he was talking about.

"If we're going to pretend that we're dating, you probably shouldn't be calling me by my last name."

"Oh." She hadn't thought about that. The only reason she even knew his first name was because it was in large print on the sign outside the house, since it was generally accepted that he went by Lockwood and that was that.

"Or you could use some sort of nickname. I've got a few for you if you'd like to hear them." The grin on his face made Y/n think that she really didn't want to hear them, but he opened his mouth again anyway. "How about Sugarplum?" Y/n got out the car, slamming the door shut on him a little more harshly than she needed to. "Snookums? I think you look like a Snookums." The taxi driver was giving the two of them strange looks as he unloaded their bags, but Y/n ignored Lockwo- Anthony (she would have to get used to that) and handed over the money for the drive. "What about Sun Beam? Actually, you're too grumpy for that one. Oh, I know! My personal favourite," he paused for some sort of dramatic effect, being left behind on the driveway as Y/n stomped towards the front door. "Schmoopie."

Y/n stopped suddenly, turning to look back at her fake boyfriend with an incredulous look on her face. "Schmoopie?" He looked far too proud of himself as he picked up his bag and caught up with her, and she resisted the urge to hit him.

"Don't you like it, Schmoopie?"

"Call me that again and I'll be chucking your Source in the furnaces within the week." Lockwood (Anthony - she really needed to start calling him Anthony or she'd be saying 'Lockwood' to her family) Can't you just use my name? Or, you know, a more generic pet name?"

"Fine. You're very boring, I hope you know that."

"Sure. Just swear to me you'll never call me 'Schmoopie' again." She said the word with disgust, scrunching her nose up and fighting the urge to gag.

"Whatever you want, darling." That wasn't much better, but at least it was normal. Y/n raised her hand to knock, but before she could the door was being flung open, revealing a woman in a very festive jumper.

"You're here! She's here!"

~~~

Lockwood stood back slightly as the woman wrapped her arms around Y/n, squeezing so tightly he feared for his colleague's spine.

He braced himself for a similar treatment when she pulled back and spotted him, and the next thing he knew he was close to being suffocated as she brought him into a hug. Lockwood held his breath, his eyes wide and arms stuck out to the side as he tried to figure out what the hell he was meant to be doing. He hadn't been hugged like this since, well, since Jess. It took him a few seconds to work out that he needed to reciprocate the hug, but once he had, god. Why was he choking up? He could feel Y/n's eyes on him, so he shut his own and basked in the feeling of actually being held.

"You must be the boyfriend!" the woman said, pulling back and holding him by the forearms.

"Mum! Please don't terrify him!"

So this was Emma L/n, Y/n's mother.

"Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs L/n." He flashed one of his winning smiles, and he could see her visibly relaxing.

"Oh Emma, please!" She looked back over her shoulder at Y/n, mouthing (incredibly non-subtly) 'He's handsome!'

"Mum!" Y/n hissed, starting to turn red.

"What's your name then young man!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he replied, and took particular pleasure in seeing Y/n squirm in the background.

"Well, you'd better come in. Do you need help with the bags?"

"Oh, no, I've got them," he assured her, shouldering his large bag and reaching for the suitcase handle that Y/n was currently holding onto. She didn't relent for a moment, and they had a silent argument for control of the suitcase until eventually with a small tug he won, stumbling ever so slightly from the effort.

"Everything alright?" Emma asked, frowning at the two of them.

"Yes, perfectly fine!" Lockwood called back, shooting a glare at Y/n. She reciprocated, clenching her jaw at his smug smile that came afterwards. He moved inside the house, Y/n following shortly behind and closing the door to keep the warmth in.

"Where should we put our bags?" Y/n asked her mother.

~~~

They had a problem.

A very large problem.

"Well I'm not sharing with you," Lockwood said, moving further into the room that Y/n's mother had shown them to.

"Good," she said, eyeing the double bed. "Just don't complain when your back gives in from sleeping on the floor for so long."

"What? No, I'm taking the bed."

"It's my family home, what gives you more reason to have the bed than me?"

"I'm your boss, and I pay your wages. If you want to keep being paid then I'm having the bed."

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head. "Arsehole," she muttered, going over to the windows and closing the curtains against the now-dark sky outside. The bed was definitely large enough for two people to share, but when those two people hated each others' guts and weren't actually dating, the bed was far too small.

"What was that?"

"Arsehole," she repeated loudly, making sure to look him dead in the eyes when she did so, then immediately turning and heading into the en-suite bathroom.

"What is your issue with me?" he said, following after her.

"You're taking the bed! It's my fucking house!"

"Let's not forget that without me, you would be in a lot more of a tricky situation! I think I deserve the bed for my efforts; it's not easy pretending to love you, you know!"

"Oh, like it's so easy to love you?! You are so horrible to me, all the time, and now I have to pretend to actually want to be with you?! I'd have been in a difficult situation anyway, the only difference is that in this one, I have a fake boyfriend. I could deal with the humiliation of not having anyone with me, but this?" she laughed bitterly. "This is near to being beyond me, Lockwood." Fuck, why was she tearing up? She closed the bathroom door firmly in Lockwood's face, ignoring the shocked expression on his face in the second before he disappeared from her view.

She pushed the lock, waiting for the click before turning and facing the sink, bracing her hands on the edge and heaving a few deep breaths. She hadn't realised how hard it would be to pretend that she was completely fine around her family while they picked and prodded and commented and made snide remarks, and having Lockwood around was only making it worse.

She couldn't even begin to imagine all the things he would use as ammunition in the future. He'd have a field day on this holiday, taking all of her family's words and turning them against her, becoming even worse than he had been before.

A knock sounded on the door, light and unsure, and Lockwood's voice followed afterwards. "...Y/n? I- I'm-" he sighed, and she could imagine him clenching his jaw and looking up at the ceiling as he tried to fight against the nice words he was clearly trying to say. "I have a shit sleep schedule anyway, and you go to sleep a lot faster than I do so it's better for me to sit in a chair when I can't get to sleep and you can lie down, so... yeah." Y/n was surprised at how kind he was, and was starting to wonder if he was having some sort of stroke. But then he started talking again and she knew that he was completely fine.

"If you could not take for fucking ever in the bathroom though that would be great, because I really need a piss."

~~~

"Ah, there you both are! You took your time putting your bags away!" Linda's gaze drifted to Y/n as she said that, eyes sharpening and making the back of Y/n's neck prickle.

"Oh, that's my fault, sorry," Lockwood started, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in. Y/n stiffened, not used to being so close to him, and tried to force a smile onto her face. "I got carried away asking questions about the photos around the room, and I think I might have driven her slightly mad." He was smiling so widely and cheerfully that Y/n could practically feel everybody relaxing and warming up to him. It was frustrating, really, how they had known him for roughly ten seconds and already seemed to like him more than her. Her brothers were eyeing him up, trying to figure out whether they needed to take him outside or just give him a good talking to. Her sister Olivia was also eyeing Lockwood up, but in a very different way to their brothers that was making Y/n somewhat uncomfortable. It wasn't that they didn't get on and that was what was wrong, but they were sisters, and therefore they naturally disagreed on some things.

Apparently Lockwood's level of attractiveness was one of them.

"Oh, not to worry," her mother said, already loving having Lockwood here. "I made tea, if you'd like some? There's cake too, and far too much of it, so take as much as you want!"

"Tea would be lovely, Emma, thank you," Lockwood said, moving his arm away from Y/n's shoulders. She nearly jumped out of her skin in shock when she felt his hand land on her lower back instead, pushing her forward towards the empty loveseat that sat closest to the roaring fire. "Try not to look quite so horrified at this whole thing, darling," he whispered right into her ear, emphasising the pet name. "And maybe relax a little too, yeah?" He sat down on the chair, leaving very little room for Y/n to sit down herself without pressing up against him. She gave up trying to keep space between them when she ended up perching on the edge and gained strange looks from everyone else. Lockwood pulled her back towards him, grabbing her waist with both hands and tugging until she was right up against his chest, their thighs pressed together. He didn't let go, keeping his arms around her and nestling his head in the crook of her neck. She hadn't loosened up since walking in to the living room, and she was entirely sure that her spine was as stiff as one of the wooden floorboards under her feet. Her mother handed over two mugs of tea, placing them on the small side table next to their chair, then went to cut two slices of cake, starting with Lockwood's. He accepted his plate gratefully, smiling brightly up at her.

"How big of a slice, Y/n/n?"

"Uh... maybe-"

"Don't give her too big of a slice, she doesn't need that much," Stephanie interrupted, her tone sickly sweet. Y/n froze, and behind her she could feel Lockwood glancing between the two girls, trying to figure out what was happening. Her mother cut a decent sized slice, ignoring her niece's comment and handing the plate to Y/n.

"Did you make this, Emma?" Lock-Anthony (she might just give up trying to correct herself in a minute) asked.

"Oh, yeah, but you know, it's not my best."

"Well I think it's delicious, you'll have to share the recipe with me so I can have more of it back in London!"

"I'd be happy to! Do you bake then?"

"Oh, no, I'm awful. I'd burn the house down I'm sure. But our friend George is a magician in the kitchen."

"Remind me what you do for work again?" her father asked.

"Actually, maybe you could just... tell us. Since we know nothing about you!" Linda laughed. "We don't even know your name!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he said, yet another of his classic Lockwood smiles taking over his face. Y/n was starting to feel sick from the way Stephanie and Linda were watching them, and she put her fork down on her plate. "Y/n hasn't mentioned me much then?"

"No," Linda simpered. "I have to say, I was very surprised when I heard my sister say that Y/n had a boyfriend. I'm even more surprised that you actually exist!"

"I can't really blame her for not saying anything, I suppose. We're very busy a lot of the time and when we are free I'm often dragging her out on dates and the like, so if you haven't heard from her then that's entirely my fault." God, how was he such a good liar? Everybody believed him right away, but if she tried to get away with something like that they'd be asking so many questions she would give up and tell the truth.

"And... what is it you do for work?" her father asked again, desperate for the answer.

"I'm an agent."

"Fittes or Rotwell?"

"Uh... no, I-"

"Bunchurch then? Or maybe Grimble?"

"Actually," Lockwood glanced at Y/n, and she nodded slightly, bracing herself for her family's reaction. "I run my own agency. George, who I mentioned earlier, is our researcher, Lucy is our Listener, Holly our secretary, and then of course there's Y/n. Best Touch in England." He squeezed her slightly, and when she looked back at him he was smiling up at her so adoringly that she wondered how she ever hated him.

Then he jabbed her side, making her wobble and nearly spill the tea that she'd just picked up, and she remembered that he was a dick.

"Your... own... agency?"

"Yes." Lockwood didn't seem perturbed, which was lucky, because Y/n was feeling increasingly more unsettled with every second that passed. "We're based in London in my family home, but we take clients from all around England."

"Right... so that makes you Y/n's... boss?"

"I know it's not... the usual, but there is nothing that says we cannot be in a relationship. Believe me, I've checked. I don't think there is anything that could have been done to stop me from falling for your daughter, sir, despite her own best efforts, and I like to think that I keep my role as her boss completely separate from my role as her boyfriend."

Y/n stared at him in mild shock, not quite believing how sincere he sounded, and Lockwood was refusing to look at her.

Uneasy glances were exchanged by nearly all of Y/n's gathered family members, the only exceptions being Will, who had always supported Y/n, and Olivia, who was too busy checking Lockwood out. Y/n put her plate of cake down, having spent the last few minutes picking at it and barely eating any, and ignored the look that Lockwood gave her. She wasn't feeling hungry at all now that she was surrounded by everyone, and Stephanie was watching every move she made with terrifying intensity. No doubt there would be some fresh insults this year, and Y/n couldn't wait to be back home again.

Home.

Since when had she considered Lockwood's house her home?

"You alright?" Lockwood whispered in her ear. He kept asking her that, and it was freaking her out a little.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She stood up, gently detaching herself from Lockwood's grip and putting her mug of tea on the side table, half drunk. "Just need the loo, be back in a bit." She tried smiling at everyone, but the water gathering in her eyes made it difficult to pretend that she was actually fine, and she left the room finding it hard to breathe. Y/n headed up the stairs and into the bathroom attached to the room that she and Lockwood were staying in, and for the second time that day braced herself on the sink as she tried to regain control of her body. "Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." She splashed some cold water on her face, holding it against her skin in the hopes that it would shock her back into being alright again, then turned off the tap and sat on the floor, her back to the sink and her legs stretched out in front.

Only two more days to go, and then she could go back to her normal life.

Two more days of this, and she was free, and could eat as much cake as she wanted, because George and Lucy would be stuffing their faces too.

She just had to fake it until then.

part 3

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop (I just realised I hadn't added you I'm so sorry 😭 although I don't know if you wanted to be added actually idkkk) @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

please let me know if I've missed you off the series tag list, and I'll put you right on! <3

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas

[messylustt]

Hey! Could you maybe write a little something where the reader takes care of Ethan because he begins to come down with a really bad cold? Poor love is all sniffly and sneezy, so the reader just wants to smother him with affection during this time <3

this is so cute

✫ ;: .. TISSUES / ethan landry

kissing; this is pure fluff; established relationship

You knock on Chad and Ethan’s dorm. You had been worried all day, Ethan's text having been vague in his reasoning for not making it to class.

Chad opens the door, smiling upon seeing you. "Y/n!"

You smile, though it soon drops as you speak. "Is Ethan here?"

Chad's brows furrow. "Oh, he didn't text you?"

Now its your turn to furrow your brows. "About what?"

Then Chad breaks into a small chuckle, shaking his head. "God."

"What?" You ask, growing more worried.

Chad steps aside. "He's just in his room."

You narrow your eyes on Chad and his strange behaviour. You pass him, quickly making your way to Ethan's bedroom door. You knock. In response you hear Ethan mumble something before speaking louder. "Chad, please fuck off."

You glance back at Chad. "Did you do something?"

Chad raised his hands, proving his innocence. "He's just being a wimp. I don't know why he's so embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?" You again question.

Chad gestures to the door, telling you to just go in, before he wanders somewhere else in the dorm. You grab the handle, twisting and pushing.

"Seriously, Chad—" Ethan pauses, seeing you standing in the doorway. He stares at you, his cheeks pinkening, but as you take in his appearance you notice just how red they were before. You then notice the tissues scattered in a pile on the floor.

Your face softens as you realise. Ethan's sick. You rush over, shutting the door, as you toss your bag to the side. You place the back of your hand against Ethan's forehead. "Shit, your extremely hot."

"No you are." He joked, trying to make the creases on your forehead smooth out, before a cough followed.

"Oh, Ethan." You softly chuckle, taking a seat on the bed, your hand moving to touch his red hot cheeks. He sniffled, turning away.

Now you realise why Chad had said embarrassed. "Ethan, why are you so embarrassed? You should have texted me. I would have come over."

"Because thats what I didn't want to happen." He mutters.

"You have nothing to be embarassed about." You say, taking out your bottle of water from your bag. "Everyone gets sick."

"Yeah, but i look..." He sneezes, having quickly grabbed a tissue from the nearly empty box on his bedside table.

You hand him your bottle of water after he had taken the tissue away. "Plus I don't want you to get sick." He says, eyes slightly widening as if just realising this, as he tries to move farther away from you.

"Ethan." You stop him, placing your hand over his. "I don't care how you look when your sick. In fact your red nose is kinda cute, actually." You smile before turning more solemn. "But I don't want you to be sick. So, next time text me, and let me help you. No room for emarrassment. Alright?" You say sternly.

Ethan hesitates as he again turns his head away. You sigh. "I'll kiss you." You threaten to which he whips his head back.

"That's not a great threat." He says, his eyes dropping to your lips.

"I thought you didn't wanna get me sick?" You question, grabbing the end of the woolen blanket, placing it better over his body.

"Well, if I get a kiss I think it'd be worth it." He smiles, a cute tilt to his head.

You fake feeling offended as you go to stand up. Ethan quickly grabs your hand keeping you next to him. "I won't kiss you. I won't." He says quickly, looking desperate for you not to leave.

A smile edges your lips. "Good." You say, before leaning slightly closer. "Because you can get one when your better if you let me help you, and if you tell me next time."

Ethan slowly nods. "Alright."

Your smile widens, squeezing his hand before you stand. "Where are you going?" Ethan quicky asks, his hand quickly having glued to yours.

"Just to get a hot cloth. I'll be back." You say, getting out of his hold and walking towards the connected bathroom.

You soon walk back with a heated cloth to see that Ethan has placed all the tissues that had previously scattered the floor into a small plastic bag.

"You didn't have to do that." You say, laying him back down as you press the hot compress on his forehead.

His nose scrunches up. "Yes I did. It's disgusting."

"It's normal." You correct. "And remember I really don't care."

Ethan slowly nods, as a large smile forms on his face. He stares at you as you press the cloth against his forehead, brows creased in concentration. He didn't know what he did to deserve you. You'd always been there when he needed or even just when he wanted. You'd always helped in, with whatever. And now he couldnt look away from your pretty face as you took care of him.

When it got late and you had planned to leave, Ethan grabbed your wrist. "Can you...can you stay?" His question was followed by a cough.

You nod. "Of course."

Soon Ethan managed to drift off with your hand tightely held in his own.

. . .

When Ethan awoke he saw you slumped in a chair, knocked out, your hand still holding on to his. He quickly sat up, noticing his lack of a headache, but also the fact that you had slept there the entire night.

His brows furrowed in annoyance at himself for not letting you sleep somewhere more comfortable. In his sick state he hadn't noticed that you sat in a seat when he was drifting to sleep.

He looked down at your interwined hand, a smile forming, as he rubbed his thumb over your soft skin. You were too good to him. He was thankful that his nose had cleared along with his head, because now he could kiss you. And as he pressed his lips to the back of your hand, he felt you stir.

You slowly blinked awake, stretching, but pausing when you felt Ethan's grip followed by a soft kiss to your wrist. You looked at him to see he'd sat up, colour back to his cheeks and his nose no longer red.

You smiled realising he wasn't sick anymore. You meet his gaze, and saw every emotion swirling within, making your breath hitch. Ethan grinned before pulling you towards him by your hand making you gasp. You land against his body, as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"Ethan." You chuckle, as he quickly kisses you neck and jaw before hovering over your lips. "I get a kiss don't I?"

You purse your lips, hiding your amused smile. "I said one. You've already had...i don't know…four."

Ethan's smile grows larger. "Oh, I thought when you said kiss. You meant plural." In his own response, he kisses your lips, slightly knocking your head back, as he carefully sucks on your bottom lip.

Your hand leads to his hair, as he slips his hands to grab your thighs, spreading them over his lap. You place your hand on his chest, breaking the kiss. Ethan frowns, following your lips. "Hey, I've been sick."

"Exactly. It might not be completely out of your system."

He tries to lean in again, but you manage to get off his lap, holding your hands out with a smile on your face. "We can't be late." You say regarding uni. Ethan groans.

"But we get to continue after?" He asks, standing and walking up to you.

"Maybe." You mutter, teasing him, before you grab your bag, patting down your hair, as you walk out of his room.

"Maybe?!" He's in disbelief.

"Get dressed." You call back with chuckle. Both your faces have an immovable smile present. And it lasts for the rest of the day.

I have like no fluff on my blog, so I made this somewhat tooth-rotting

kisses, holly

#the ethan effect #ethan landry #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #jack champion #jack champion x reader #scream #scream 6 #jack champion x y/n #ethan landry fluff #jack champion fluff #scream fluff #scream 6 fluff

[aaaaafro]

Soft Japanese Pillows, Two more, please? IVE Rei x ? x M! Reader (+18)

And we're back with a special guest. Pt 1 here

tw: more pillows, more softer + Rei's blonde now and we bout to die

The bells above the door chime as you enter the familiar outlet. You won't lie after the showcase of products last time and even though you've bought enough pillows to make your sleep a hundred times better. Your mind couldn't help but look back at the experience. It always feels like you need more of those pillows and today you've concluded that two isn't just gonna cut for you.

"Welcome, are you ready to have the best sleep?" It's their catchphrase that you didn't pay attention the last time from a somewhat unfamiliar voice and face.

It's not that you're disappointed or anything (or it's not like you're expecting another Japanese staff to assist you, right?). If it is something, you're actually awestruck at her visuals. The simplistic approach of her make-up just accentuates her natural beauty even more.

"My name is Kazuha, you can call me Zuha. What can I help you with?" She smiles once more as you just stood there lost of words.

"Oh sir!" Now a familiar call from somewhere woke you up from your trance.

You and Zuha look over and see the adorable Japanese pillows–woman! Japanese woman approaching the two of you. Her smile didn't leave her face even after she's finally right in front of you.

"You're back, did something happen with the pillows?" Rei asks.

Respectfully your eyes wander towards her lower regions for some reason and that fraction of a pause didn't go unnoticed by the two ladies. A fake cough from Zuha wakes you up from your daydream as you did your best to focus on the matter.

"Uh... yeah... I mean no! There's nothing wrong with them. I'm a-actually here f-for..." Your words got caught up in your throat.

"Me?" Rei jokingly finishes as you two awkwardly laugh at each other.

"Uhm, I'm here to p-purchase m-more, if it's okay?" You clarified as Zuha and Rei's eyes light up upon hearing of a potential sale.

You could've guessed that ever since what happened to you and Rei that there shouldn't really be anything awkward between the two of you and to prove that Rei quickly jumps onto you, clinging tightly as she presses her soft body against your arm.

"Let's go then, sir~?" Again with a little cute fade at the end, as her smile flashes and it gives you flashbacks of your first time here.

You couldn't help but notice though the other lady in the room. As you and Rei look back at Zuha who's standing there in awe at the relationship you two have. Rei waves at her before saying; "Watch the store for me."

Clearly seeing the annoyance at Zuha's face that these two don't really get alongside each other. A light tug at your arm signals you to walk but you keep glancing back to see Kazuha's face who seems disappointed. You could say the sale incentives might be something that comes to play with this, but that's clearly not all of it.

"I'm so happy that you're back..." Rei comments as she continues to lead you to the back office of the store.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back with the products. Oh gosh! I know you'll love them and I'm so excited to show them to you." Hearing the enthusiasm in her voice really does make you excited as well and remember your first time here. while you're sitting down on the very neat white couch.

Not even a minute in. Rei comes back with a couple of pillows in hand. You're stunned to see the variety of styles and the visible differences between the products. Not just the sizes but the sheer materials of it are visibly different.

"So, these new ones just came in..." Rei starts presenting them.

Handing you one to try and feel the undeniable comfort in your hand. As you're feeling the product's quality, your mind then starts thinking of something else and it really doesn't help when that something else is right in front of you.

"So? How's it sir?" Rei scoots forward excitedly and you can't help but focus on the way her meaty legs jiggles with her movements.

"U-uhhm... They l-look g-great..."

"Oh... H-how about the materials sir?"

"T-they uh... yeah, feels great."

Those half-assed answers weren't really enough for Rei, as she traces your line of sight and realizes where your focus is on. Knowing what's distracting you from getting the full experience she quickly thought of a solution.

"Do they really feel great sir?" Rei suddenly closes in your personal space even more to the point where her body is pressing against your shoulder.

"T-they d-do..." You might've swallowed a whole gallon of saliva, as you try to form the right words for a response.

"Oh really, I was just about to say..."

"These are made of one hundred percent authentic Japanese materials." Now you're torn between the pillows or her thighs pressed against your arm but either way you're taking something home and it'd be nice if you can take both home.

"T-they a-are?" Your voice might've just cracked mid sentence due to your nerves but that's not the point.

With that Rei moves her lips closer to your ear before whispering; "Yes sir, and the biggest feature of these is that they are water resistant."

There goes Rei with her patent adorable fading voice as her hot breath brushes against your ear. You sit there, heart pounding as her hand lands on your shoulder before slowly sliding down to your chest as she continues; "Do you want another demo sir?"

With no words forming in your head you just decided to nod and this was enough for Rei, as she jumps on top of you. Her healthy legs trapping yours on the spot as she reaches for the pillow in your hand before chucking it like it was nothing.

"We'll begin the demo now sir." Her sultry voice trickles your ears.

Her hands skillfully find yours, her delicate fingers intertwining with yours as she slowly guides them to her hips. You shudder at first contact as if touching something so rare, well it is.

"W-wow." Might as well insert the Owen Wilson meme as you're too amaze to say anything else.

A proud smile comes across Rei's face seeing your eyes almost popping out. Just as then, you realized. She's still wearing a hoodie that's really obscuring the real feel of her body.

Rei can clearly see the frustration settling in on you and as a good customer service, she decides to oblige and provide you a better feel.

She removes her stuffy hoodie instantly and presents you with her slim hip and her voluptuous chest. Your drool almost slipping out and with a huge slurp that causes Rei to let out such an adorable chuckle that contrasts such a lustful body.

With her top hugging her figure so much almost as if they were about to pop, you couldn't help but just stare and obviously this isn't what Rei wanted her product to be experienced as.

Now with a firm goal of proving her product's exquisite quality, she takes your motionless hands and guides it up to her chest. Palming both healthy clothed pillows giving it a good squeeze, as Rei had to bite her lip to suppress her moan.

"C-can you feel it, sir?" Your hunger for her has now reached an all time high. As her soft spoken voice enters your eardrums.

"F-fuck." You mumbled.

Rei's hands captured your head before plunging you straight onto her chest. Her soft cushion catches you just fine as she then lowers her mouth closer to your ear as she whispers; "Later sir."

You can clearly see in your peripheral that she's smirking proving that she intends to do what you're proposing. just as then regret start to settle in as you've slowly realize how you're still in between her soft goodies and even then Rei starts pressing her mounds together trapping you even more.

And so you did what every sane person would do in this situation, you start kissing the in between of her orbs. Tasting the packed goodness of her skin was really something else. You can clearly tell she's been working hard as the hint of slight saltiness was fighting her sweet cherry flavored skin.

"Mhhmm, y-yes sir~ keep going." Well, if she asks so... who are you to not oblige?

Being a lil' too frisky you decide to go all ham on her, lifting her top off. The sheer ridiculous bounce that her mounds made the moment they were freed was something you've engraved into your mind forever.

Rei's pink cute hardened nubs are just calling you out and without a second to spare you quickly took one in your mouth. Her gasps send you shockwaves of happiness as she pulls your head deeper hoping to get more out of the sensation.

The sweet, savoury flavor of Rei's body resting on your taste buds is enough to make you come close to the edge of being rabid and just taking her to town but seeing how much Rei is enjoying this steady pace that you've created, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

"Haaa~ fuck, that's some fucking good stuff." You said right after regretfully detached yourself from her orbs having to catch your breath for a bit.

"Are you done sampling the products sir?" Rei's tone isn't that sweet, more so inviting if you'd say so yourself.

"B-but there's more products to sample." She added before removing your hands from her mounds and placing them on hee thighs.

S O F T, those are the only letters that you can think of at the moment. Like there's other words more fit than that... you dig down deep in your personal thesaurus, mushy? squashy? or supple? All of it fits but simplistically SOFT.

"Holy fuc-." Rei's finger halts you from finishing such a filthy reaction before she once more reaches for your hands and guides it towards her core.

Two layers of clothing did nothing to hide her arousal as the wet spot right in the middle is too evident. She smiled as your thumb glides up and down tracing her hot line.

"W-wow." Another Owen Wilson meme worthy reaction as you continued to press against her ever so wet snatch.

"Sir~." Rei's soft whimper cuts you off from the trance as she starts to stand up letting your legs free.

Your heart breaks into tiny pieces as the feeling of her soft body is now nowhere to be found. Like taking a treat from a puppy, your hands reached out trying to pull Rei back. She chuckled at the sight as she grabbed your hand and gave it a good squeeze. Enough to reassure you that she's coming back.

Rei suddenly reaches for the hem of her shorts. Wiggling her cute butt she does her best to slither off of the fabric. Gladly it was stretchable and she did it so easily. Now in her surprisingly cute underwear which is such a confusing sight but yet you're not one to look away. She smiled seeing your eyes are fixated on her lower half.

To make it even better she begins to wiggle it, you almost drool at the sigh as her soft thighs jiggling aggressively as she continues to undress herself while wiggling. A devilish grin on her face alerts you of something and a signal with her finger standing you up from the couch.

You could've sworn the world slowed down as you approached closer and closer to Rei and her bare skin. Your eyes never left the plump woman as you finally closed the distance between the two of you.

Towering over Rei was something that shouldn't surprise you but yet you can't help but adore the height difference as she slightly has to look up to meet eyes with you. You captured her by the hips pulling her closer. The two of you lock eyes before surrendering to your hunger.

Fireworks start to set off from your heart as you finally get a taste of Rei's lips (though you'd prefer the other lips more). The savoury goodness of her lips really does wonders as she wraps her arms around your neck before jumping onto you and you're quick to catch her by her meaty thighs.

"You taste so fucking good!" You comment midway through the make out session.

Rei's lips curls up as she then introduces another participant in the form of her tongue. The two of you engage in a battle for dominance but yet can easily tell how it's tipping over your side of the scale.

Being in so much ecstasy your legs start to crumble and as the obvious choice at the moment, you quickly carry Rei towards the white couch. Carefully placing the precious Japanese on the soft cushion as you got lost at how her meaty legs squishes against the surface–oh, just how you'd wished it was your face.

"You said these pillows are water resistant?" Rei adorably nods as you slowly remove your pants.

"Let's test that out shall we?" You finally discard the last useless garment off of your body as you line your face with Rei's wet entrance.

Seeing Rei holding back her excitement as she spreads her legs wider giving you a better look at her moist lips.You two made eye contact as you inch closer to her goods a slight nod from her encouraged you enough to dive in.

Placing a long lick along the slit of her core making sure to scoop as much as you can of her liquid gold. This action elicits a high pitched moan from the Japanese woman as her toes curls up. You can clearly see her resolve leaving her body as her hands suddenly lands on the back of your head pulling you deeper onto her core.

Your tongue reach as far as you could while doing your best to drink up her dripping springs. Her moans drown the whole room as her hand tussles with your hair trying to get some form of relief from all of the pleasure she's having.

"S-sir! Nnnhhnngg~! H-how is it?" Hearing that question made you commend how dedicated Rei is at her job.

Imagine getting eaten out yet you're worried about what that customer thinks about the service. As much as you'd love to give her millions of compliments you decide to just double the amount of pleasure as you jam two fingers inside of her tight walls. Rei's back arches as her nails digs deep into your skull, yet pain didn't even register in your mind as you're too focus on giving Rei your efforts.

"F–fuck! Sir! Ah–shiiitt..." Rei squealed as her legs kicks out before a gush of her liquid comes pouring out. Without detaching your mouth on her sacred lips you drink up as much as you can whilst Rei rides out her orgasm.

"See sir? How it just lets out all of the water?" You chuckled hearing Rei's attempt to make a sale as you finally let the girl rest for a bit seeing how the climax knocked the wind out of her.

Standing up as your legs start to cramp, Rei's eyes get fixated on your rock hard rod, but she can't blame you though, after all even just from the moment she straddled you, your member was already engorged.

"S-sir." Rei called as you're trying to stretch out the muscles of your leg and the moment you turned around, you almost passed out seeing Rei's on her knees while her torso was prompted on the backrest.

"What the f–."

"Fuck? Yes sir, that's the idea." Rei finished your sentence like she'd rehearsed it a couple of times.

Like your bed after a long day of work, you got pulled in as if she has a leash on you. Your hand traced her plump behind before giving it a good squeeze. Rei looks back as she gave you that mischievous smile of her before pushing her ass back to make contact with your member.

The sheer heat that radiates from her core and the remnants of her juice that it has, almost sent you to the edge but you're not one to disappoint her. "Go on sir. Fuck me." She whispered before looking away and bracing herself on the backrest of the couch.

Well, she asked for it and you'd be stupid not to give her what she wants. You quickly line your member on her entrance but before anything else, the back office's door slams open, stopping you right in your track.

You and Rei look back only to see Kazuha with an obvious angry expression. She nonchalantly approaches you and Rei before sitting down right next to her colleagues who's still naked and spread out on her knees.

"Uh... Zuha." Rei calls.

"No, no. go ahead." She replies as she just looks on.

You stood there dumbfounded as Rei just shrugs and proceed to penetrate herself with your rod. This took you by surprise but as you tried to pull out of Rei and she just suddenly pushes herself back to penetrate herself once more. You groaned feeling her tight walls clasping your member.

As awkward as the situation is, you can't help but to start giving Rei the business and despite her workmate being right beside the two of you doing the nasty, she just sat there and watched over, intrigued at the way your rod completely disappears and partially reappear from Rei.

"Mhhmmm, fuck sir! You're so big!" Rei moans.

This is all too much for you already, and yet Kazuha suddenly stood up and starts removing her pants.

Introducing you to another great Japanese product.

"Fuck!" You twitched insure Rei as she jolts slightly feeling your rod react at the sight of her colleague.

Rei looks back to see Kazuha snaking her hands around your torso, this prompts Rei to double the pace as she starts throwing her ass towards you to deepen the connection each entry.

"Does she feel good?" Kazuha whispers into your ears as you continue to pound away at Rei's cakes.

"Mhhmm, I knew you weren't just here for the pillows..."

"Look at those thighs bounce..." As if you couldn't. You can't even look at Kazuha as you're too fixated on Rei's body responding each thrusts you did.

"How about we double down on some deal?" You really can't think straight to process what Zuha proposed but you somewhat understand it by the way she took your hand which was clutching Rei's hips and guides it towards her thigh.

Never! NEVER! In a million years you'd think that buying pillows can be this heavenly and you haven't even gone home yet to try and sleep on them. "How does that deal sound sir?"

Kazuha's lips suddenly captures your earlobes as you try to put your thoughts into words; "Fuck."

A light chuckle from the two Japanese pillo–ladies! Japanese ladies echoes. You're a mess trying to juggle the feel of Rei's love walls and Kazuha's clothed bolsters.

Now Zuha adds more to the equation when she suddenly slides her safety shorts aside and self penetrated herself with your fingers. And that's when the apex was within your sights feeling Rei's walls clenching as Zuha continues to play with your earlobes and fingers.

And to add cherry on the top Zuha whispers; "Cum inside her. Fill her up sir, she'll love it." Before recapturing your earlobe.

A few more thrusts as your member and your finger feels the two ladies reaching their limits as well. The three of you groans in a synchronous fashion, climaxing at the same time. Your waves of white love injecting inside Rei as she mixes it with her own fluids, meanwhile Zuha bites at your shoulder trying to ride off of her orgasm.

Finally collapsing on the body fluid riddled couch the three of you cuddled along as you got sandwhiched by both gorgeous ecstasy filled ladies, doing your best to catch each of your breaths.

"So, how were they sir?" Rei asks as her breathing comes back to normal

"Right... sir?" Kazuha followed.

"I..." You contemplated for a bit before saying fuck it, there's no such thing as too many Japanese pillows.

"I'll take two of each, please?" The two ladies smiled from ear to ear hearing your response before placing a kiss on each of your cheeks.

#ive #ive smut #rei #ive rei #naoi rei #rei smut #male reader #ive x reader #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim smut #le sserafim #le sserafim kazuha #nakamura kazuha #kazuha smut #kazuha

[peace-for-levi]

Welcome Back

lol hiiiii, sorta haven't written in *checks watch* eight months so i am RUSTY.

cw: feelings of grief, graphic descriptions of dissociation, reader feeling disconnected and needing to be grounded. post-expedition hurt-comfort is my fav genre, lol.

word count: 1447.

taglist: @levmada @jayteacups @happybird16 @theferricfox @sckerman @wortverlust @lostinwildflowers @pockcock @nelapanela94 @notgoodforlife @unadulteratedtreecrusade @starstruckkittensweets

Arms up. Arms down.

Grief anchors and weighs you down like a ball and chain. It's heavy, cumbersome and you are left to just bear the brunt of it. It has a way of removing you from the world, leaving you unable (even unwilling) to reconnect. The most recent expedition and the deaths that came with it weigh down on your shoulders. You lean over, back hunched. Neck tense.

Distantly, you recognise what it is you are feeling (or lack of.) Distantly, you recognise the expedition has probably sent you into this state.

Your vision is 'stretched', or distorted, and everything has a dull fuzz to it. You're sure if you reached to grab the book on your bedside locker, it would slip through your fingers and melt away.

And that you'd wake up from this.

You form a fist and relax it, stretching your fingers. Lines on your fingers; oh, five fingers, all with fingernails. Five sets of knuckles. These are your hands? Surely, right?

You form a fist and this time you squeeze, and you almost feel your nails sink in. Just slightly but it's enough for you to shudder. In realization? In pain?

It's not unusual for your mind to be stuck out in the plains beyond the Walls. The boom and echo of flares rattles in your ears, the screams of your comrades leaves your head spinning. The idea of being back in your bedroom is just something you haven't registered yet, too busy stuck somewhere between a nightmare and reality.

A fake, shadowy middle of unreality.

It's nauseating, harrowing. If not for your feet pressed to the floor and your calves backed to the edge of the bed frame, you'd have a hard time trusting gravity in keeping you down.

There's a voice in the foreground, but you're not quite there yet. Their speech is fragmented.

You cling to reason; to routine and actions. You try to cling to dialogue and even though you understand the words, they don't get processed. You try to attune to the conversation, however one-way it is.

"Your shoulders tense up when you get like this. Relax."

Shoulders… ah, your shoulders? So you roll them. You don't really know what else to do. Tense? Why are you tense and what–

…

What are you…?

Where…?

Levi senses he's losing you further here, so he gives you an order. A command; you can latch onto that. It'll give your brain something to do, long enough to take you away from the plains.

"Legs out. I'll undo your buckles," he says as he kneels between your legs.

Leg up, straighten, leg down.

Same idea again for your left.

The frigid air against your – now – bare skin makes you shiver. Your clothes are being taken off, piece by piece.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Do you know…?" is a question that he noticed that also makes you come back to your senses. He has asked a question that requires a logical answer; you need to go searching for clues.

You know it's your bedroom – what else could it possibly be? – but it just looks so… wrong. In a moment of faint realization, you feel the night's gentle breeze prick the skin on your legs. You turn to the bedside locker and see a bowl of lumpy, congealed soup with a bread roll that looks like it's on the verge of going bad. You must have forgotten to eat it. There's an oil lamp next to the soup, as well as an old book. Reading is a bit too hard at the moment; you can hardly put together the title of the book.

Now you look in front of you. Of course the black hair and grey eyes belong to your lover, but he didn't look so real right now. If you reached out to touch him, would you feel the black tresses spill between your fingers? The war-torn hands clasp your own?

You sink your fingertips into his scalp. He lets it happen, lets you cling to him. He doesn't even flinch, he knows you need grounding. He brings a hand up and rests it on yours, as if to say…

Feel me.

I am alive. You are alive. We are both here, and you will not wake up from this.

(Your brain just needs a lot of convincing.)

He squeezes his hand over yours. "You're getting ready for a bath, I'm helping you," he states. More information to cling to. "Whatever you're feeling, let it be there."

He is slowly walking you to your ensuite. The ground beneath your feet felt soft, even for oak planks. You fumble as you walk, second-guessing your surroundings, but Levi's got you.

He's always there.

The boundaries of the room appear elusive and murky, as you reach out for the skirting on the sides of the bathroom door. Levi was smart and had the bath ready to go, warm water prepped. With a cupped palm, he gently guides you into the bath.

"Step in."

A command to follow.

Leg up, over, and sit.

You soak into the heated water and sit down. You vaguely feel the suds cling to you. The aware part of you hopes they'll wash away the muddy feeling.

Levi begins to fill up a bucket of the sudsy water. He takes a look at your toned back, marred with grime, dirt and caked blood, and stops. He thumbs over some of the rougher sores and tears; some of these scars have been there for years. Shades of purples and blacks and reds, dotting the surface; all serving as a horrific reminder that, so far, you have made it back home every time.

You watch the dirt drip down and swirl in the water, floating there.

Silence permeates between the two of you, and normally, it is a comfortable silence. But Levi wanted to check in.

"How are you doing now, [F/n]?"

Blink. You stare back at him with pupils blown, looking at everything and nothing. "Fine."

"Do you know who I am?" He asks, carefully, scrubbing your shoulders.

Black hair, grey eyes. "Levi…" you murmur.

He nods. Should he press further? He's not sure.

Dissociation is a fickle defense mechanism with a hair-trigger temperament. It can be the deaths of the comrades in your most recent expedition; it could also be triggered by the smell or sound that reminds you of something unpleasant. It sometimes comes when it wants and Levi learned the best way to deal with it was to not deal with it. To let it happen, and sit beside you as it does.

"Don't fight it. Let it be there."

But you don't want it to be there. You stretch out your palm and reach for the towel, but you just hold it. Maybe for comfort, maybe to feel a texture. You register the caked blood by your cuticles and you keep it in your mind's eye for a second, but your vision starts to splinter again.

"But it feels awful…" you find yourself saying. "I hate not recognising my surroundings, I hate not–"

He cuts in. "I know, sweetheart. I know." He takes hold of your hand and squeezes. "I know." He assures.

Because he does.

He's sat with you through every episode of this.

He guides you out of the bath when you're done, and dresses you in your nightgown. He sweeps your hair up and out of your face, before cupping your cheeks. You practically fall into his hands. He pats your cheek in response.

"You back with me yet?"

You shake your head, but your answers are coming out quicker now. He steers you with one hand on the small of your back and peels back the comforter.

As the room gets shrouded in darkness, you're pulled to his chest. A smell of cedar and black tea, the thrum of his pulse and the rise and fall of his chest. Small circles being etched into your hips by his thumb.

"We're going to try to rest now." He tells you.

A command of sorts, something to stick to.

Get in bed, lie down, and breathe.

"Yes, okay," you mumble as you twiddle your thumbs. "Okay."

He pulls you impossibly closer, nose in the crook of your neck and suddenly... you're in the clear.

"I'm [F/n]. I'm in my room. I'm with Levi…" you whisper to yourself, with confidence.

"Welcome back," your lover sleepily replies.

{friendly reminder acceptance doesn't work for everyone but it is a healthy start for some!}

#cece; speaks #levi x reader #husbando tag<3 #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi ackerman angst #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #aot #snk #aot levi #snk levi #levi x you #tw.dissociation #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

[bluemoondust]

In regards to your faking death post- what if their darling immediately grieved instead of feeling relief? Like- what if they faked their death and then just watched their darling completely break down and shut down without them and genuinely grieve their death?

tw: death (fake death), mention of suicide, mention of God

I feel like Dazai's a little more sympathetic in this scenario. He watches as you sob over 'his corpse' and has a rush of bliss run through his body. Like, true and genuine happiness. He's so giddy too. Oh? You miss him? You wish for him to come back to you? Dazai watches for a bit before walking over to you, bringing you in his arms. The man acts like you didn't just see him die as he coos at you, wiping away your tears.

Don't get me wrong, he was a little taken aback by your tears at first, but all the small signs you've shown makes sense. He had expected some tears, but a full breakdown? Hm. Well, that doesn't matter now. He carefully reads your expression as he wipes your face. Yeah, you're being genuine...and that makes him even happier.

It would actually be worse if he made the death look like a suicide— that's like, a little more salt on your wounds. Making you believe you weren't enough to keep him in this world. It's fine though, Dazai is here to stay and he'll never let you go.

Fyodor on the other hand... I don't know why but my gut tells me he'd like to watch for a while. He wants to see if you'd spout of compromises to God (or whoever you believe in) in order to bring him back to you. What else will you say that you wouldn't say to his face? He listens very carefully to ever word, sentence, plea you utter under tear soaked sobs. He smiles at the lovely sight. You look so heavenly with those tears streaming down your face.

He'll walk up to you like he had just come back from somewhere. Fyodor is so nonchalant as he greets you. "Good evening, my sweet. What's with the tears? Gone?" He chuckles, petting your head like what you just said was silly. "You must have missed me too much. You've planted ideas into your head, dear. You should know that I'll never truly be gone."

#☆moondust.answers☆ #yandere bsd #yandere dazai #yandere fyodor

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Study Date (poly! Veronica Sawyer x reader x Jason Dean)

Description: you have a study date with your partners Veronica and JD

A/N: I rewatched Heathers again and got this idea for a fic, and although I'm pretty convinced this is super crappy I figured I might as well put out some sort of content

Warnings: smoking, dark humor

"Ugh, this is so boring," you complained as you watched Veronica review over her notes in preparation for an upcoming test.

"It's math, it's not supposed to be exciting," she responded before flipping to another page.

JD chuckled, observing the two of you before pulling a cigarette from his coat and going to light it.

"Jason, you can't smoke in here!" You scolded as you snatched the cigarette from his mouth.

He frowned before picking up another one. "Why not?"

"Because this is my house, and if my parents find out they're going to be pissed. Now give me your lighter so you won't be tempted." You held your hand out, gesturing towards the lighter he was holding.

He let out a small laugh, assuming you were joking before he realized you weren't. "Aw, come on, you can't be serious."

"I very much am, unless you want to explain to my parents why their house smells like cigarette smoke. Now hand it over."

Veronica held back a laugh as she watched JD reluctantly give you his beloved lighter.

"Thank you, very much," you said as you tucked it into your backpack.

"Well, now I'm bored," JD commented.

"Maybe if you pulled out your textbook and studied for tomorrow's test you wouldn't be," Veronica suggested as she held up her book.

"I don't need to study, I'm sure I'll do fine," he said as he tapped his fingers on the table. "Man, I could really use a smoke right about now."

"See? He's taking the same test we are, why doesn't he have to study?" You asked as Veronica took your copy of the textbook out of your bag.

"Because he's a delinquent who gets himself in trouble on purpose, that's why," she said while handing it to you. "Here's your book, now study."

"This is lame," you mumbled as you sunk down low in your seat.

"Tell me about it. If I had known things were going to be this boring I would have found somebody to piss me off so I'd have an excuse to fake a suicide. At least that would excite me," he joked.

You laughed loudly before seeing the look of judgment on your girlfriend's face. "Ahem, I mean, that's not funny JD, shame on you," you fake lectured while he snorted at your antics.

Veronica playfully rolled her eyes before tapping on the textbook in front of you. "Study."

You crossed your arms over you chest and huffed. "But I don't wanna. Can't I just study later?"

"Study later- the test is tomorrow! How much time do you think you're going to have between now and then to study if you wait?"

You shrugged your shoulders, your boyfriend letting out an amused chuckle as you did so.

"I mean, she's not wrong," he pointed out.

"Oh, shut up JD, you have no room to talk," Veronica huffed, JD holding his hands up in surrender as she did so.

"Why is this so important to you?" You ask as you watch her furiously scribble in the margins of her textbook. "You've never been that much of a stickler when it comes to grades before, so why start now?"

"Because-" she sighed, setting down her pencil, "-when we graduate high school I'm probably going to move somewhere else to go to college, and I don't want you guys to get left behind. That's all."

You and JD shared a look. You'd never thought of it that way before. I mean, sure, Sherwood wasn't the worst place in the world, but it certainly wasn't the best either. The thought of you and JD getting stuck there, barely scraping to get by while Veronica was off seeing the world sent a shiver down your spine.

"Alright, fair enough." If it really meant that much Veronica that you study, then that's what you'd do.

Her face softened into a grateful smile, watching as you opened up your textbook to the notes page. She reached her hand across the table and set it down on yours, giving it a soft squeeze.

"Thanks, honey. I really appreciate it."

"Just know, I'm only doing this for you, okay? There's literally no one else in the world that could convince me to do math homework for them."

Veronica let out a small chuckle before turning her gaze to JD, who had stolen back his lighter and was casually smoking a cigarette.

"Jason!" You exclaimed, reaching over to snatch it from his mouth while Veronica laughed.

~

{Divider by: @celcero}

Main masterlist | Heathers masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @gilmore-angel @alexxavicry

#heathers #heathers imagines #heathers imagine #heathers x reader #heathers fic #heathers fluff #veronica sawyer #veronica sawyer imagines #veronica sawyer imagine #veronica sawyer x reader #veronica sawyer fic #veronica sawyer fluff #jason dean #jason dean imagines #jason dean imagine #jason dean x reader #jason dean fic #jason dean fluff #veronica sawyer x reader x jason dean #jason dean x reader x veronica sawyer #veronica x reader x jd #jd x reader x veronica

[pixellangel]

"Don't you feel stupid answering these questions when you don't even know who you are?"

STORYTELLER SYNTHESIS SCENE 1 - A GIRL NAMED V

overview - masterpost - taglist

____

Storyteller Synthesis is an indie cyberpunk RPG that I’m currently writing and designing. This is the first scene of the game, where we're introduced to our first party member - a girl named V. Please enjoy!

____

Onyxveil is a troubled city. The streets are covered in litter, the skies are gray with smog, and the only sources of light are flashing neon advertisements on walls. Within this bleak cityscape stands an equally troubled young girl, one with hot pink hair and an unfocused gaze. Just a few years ago, she experienced a horrific eve-

"Can you shut up and give the Player control already? Nobody wants your stupid expository speech."

...Ahem. As I was saying, just a few years ag-

"Why can't you ever listen? The Player isn't interested and neither am I. Get it over with."

Ugh. Fine. I came up with this whole summary, but if you're so ungrateful I GUESS I can throw it in as flavor text somewhere...

"Perfect, I'll make sure not to read it. Now get rid of this black screen so the Player can see."

Excuse me? I know what I'm doing.

"Sure. Just get rid of it."

Ugh. Fine.

[Now, in tile RPG format, we see the aforementioned girl from behind. She's at the edge of a rooftop, looking out into the smog-covered cityscape. The camera shifts downwards to show another person, one with a long, pale blue ponytail. The girl turns around and walks towards them. She keeps her distance, but begins speaking. Her character portrait shows a girl with purple, rectangular irises. Her hair is spiky and she wears some sort of strange cropped techwear hoodie. She looks dissatisfied.]

"So, "Sylvie." Long time no see."

> I could say the same to you.

...

"How long has it been now? Three years? Four?"

> Three.

Not sure.

"And how was your little warrior's expedition? Successful?"

Very.

> You could say that.

Not exactly.

"Good, good. Now, Don't you feel stupid answering these questions when you don't even know who you are?"

Wh- hey! I already told you not to go off script!

> I'm not sure.

Oh. Sorry, you don't need to answer that. Let me just fix this... small bug.

[The Narrator goes silent for a moment and the girl stiffens.]

There! Much better.

[The girl's character portrait is different when she speaks again. Her eyes are wide open with no shine. She has a wide, fake smile. Her hair spikes stand up a little less.]

"So sorry, SYLVIE! I don't know what came over me there. I'm glad your expedition went well! Woul d y ouu be wil lin g to h e-"

[She snaps out of it, shakes her head, and glares up at the sky.]

"UGH!! Stop doing that!!! I would literally NEVER talk like that. You of all people should know. Ughhh... anyway, Player, I'm not gonna keep up the "Sylvie" act. You aren't her and we both know it."

If you go off script again, I'll have to keep acting for you. Get back to the story or else.

"Shush. Player, follow me."

[The Narrator protests as the player follows the her down from the rooftop. The two come to an arcade, which the girl enters without hesitation.]

Ahem. Sylvie. You don't need to go in there. If you would just give me a minute, I can get her to come back out...

Sorry, this is going to take some time. Please be patient.

[The player enters the arcade anyway while the Narrator is distracted.]

"Hey. Glad you could make it."

[The arcade is empty, save for the two of them. Most of the machines look like they're out of order. A few of the arcade cabinets are still working, though.]

"If you're waiting for him to talk, you should know he can't hear us in here."

> "He"?

"The Narrator. He's messing stuff up in Onyxveil, and probably in other cities too. If i had to guess, I'd say his other targets would be The Sunbasked Stratum and Karma Point. They'd be good settings for a story, so..."

> Why can't he hear us in here?

What is he trying to do?

Who are you?

"I dunno. My guess is that he never intended for anything to happen in this arcade, so it's barely more than set dressing. I've never heard him speak a word while I’m in here, though. It’s pretty nice."

Why can't he hear us in here?

> What is he trying to do?

Who are you?

"He's writing some stupid story. I don't know... it's hard to explain, and we probably don't have much time. All you really need to know is that he's meddling with reality for his own selfish reasons and not taking anyone else into account."

[Her face contorts in anger.]

Why can't he hear us in here?

What is he trying to do?

> Who are you?

"My name's V. There's nothing else you need to know about me."

> Who am I?

"You’re the one playing the video game. Obviously."

> That's not what I meant.

"Oh, you must want to know who's body you're in. It's another person from Onyxveil. Their name is Sylvie. They went out on some training journey a few years ago. I... haven't seen them since."

> ...

"It doesn't matter. I need your help, Player. I don't want to be trapped in this stupid reality where I'm a character in a story I never asked to be a part of."

> What do you want me to do about that?

"I want you to help me kill the Narrator."

[V looks determined, but angry. This Narrator person has very clearly wronged her in some way, and based on her face, it looks like it was extremely personal.]

> How are we meant to do that?

"I don't know all the details just yet. However, I think the most effective method would be for us to assemble a party of several people. More people means more firepower, and he already wants us to gather more allies to fight the robots that keep appearing in the city. It'll be easy to fly under the radar as long as we don't discuss it in front of him."

[She speaks quickly and confidently. It seems she's been thinking over her plan for a long time.]

> Do you know who we need?

#pixell.rpg #pixell.art #storyteller synthesis #WHEW this post had a shit ton of work go into it #it was a journey #but AAAAA SCENE 1 FINALLY UPPPP #EXPLODES #uhmm uh.m. i hate to beg but im working really hard on this game and if you reblogged this i would love you forever <3 #godddd i would so totally blaze this if i could. but alas #anyway #gamedev #indie gamedev #indie game #writing #original writing #oc #oc art #oc illustration #cyberpunk aesthetic #solo dev #rpg maker #rpg maker game #illustration #art #digital artist #okay thats probably too many tags

[eris-snow]

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝

Tags: bakugou x fem!reader, they don't get together at the end, angst, undercover

"Hero/n, Dynamight, your job is to infiltrate tonight's gathering as newlyweds find evidence of his crimes, and apprehend him swiftly." Oh, no.

The door to the limousine opens.

You take one step in, see a flash of blond hair, crimson red eyes and a surprised scowl before you backtrack 5 steps away.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Bakugou scoffs, folding his arms. "Fucking nice to see you too, Shortie."

"Get in, Hero/n. Lives are at stake." Aizawa says glaring at you from the shotgun seat.

Grudgingly, you took your seat beside the blond, dipping your head gracefully as you slammed the door shut. "I thought you were in America this weekend." You mumble, fidgeting with your dress's helm. "For that Top 10 Hero gala thing."

"That's what everyone else thinks." He mutters, facing the window on his side. "Thought you'd be able to distinguish real from fake news, Y/n. Quit fucking around."

Your hands clench into fists as the car starts to move. "Couldn't help but hope." You reply through gritted teeth.

Bakugou and you had broken up nearly 3 years ago, and you'd never expected to see him like this. No, not when you were on an undercover mission to potentially die.

Being trapped with Bakugou in a single car is going to kill you much faster.

"Eraser, why is he here?" You hiss, glaring at the underground hero. "I thought you were gonna pick someone who was part of the agency. Not the flashiest, most wanted hero on this goddamn planet!"

Bakugou glares at you with those piercing eyes. "Look if I knew I'd be working with you for this assignment, I'd never have taken the job either, okay?"

Bakugou hasn't seen you in years. Yes, he knew that you were somewhere on the planet, kicking ass, but with his life-long goal of claiming the title of the Number 1 Hero, your hidden disappearance and the area you'd chosen to specialise in, it was almost too easy to let himself get buried in work to distract himself from you.

But here you are.

After being over several miles away from you, the both of you were now only inches apart.

"Shut up, both of you." Eraserhead snapped. "I assumed you've read the file, but I'll reiterate it for you as a reminder. The murderer, Kage Tanuki has escaped America's security and fled to Japan to flee his death sentence. His quirk, as you might be familiar with is called Truth. It allows anyone he comes into skin contact with to believe anything he tells them to. Your job is to infiltrate tonight's gathering as newlyweds-"

"Oh my fucking god,"

"-find evidence of his crimes, and apprehend him swiftly." Aizawa notices you staring at Bakugou unblinkingly and reads your mind.

"Hatsume has designed Bakugou a gadget that prevents anyone from recognising him as the Number 2 Hero, but it's tailored to only his body. That's why we still had you wear contacts and go in with a disguise."

Eye contacts. No wonder your eyes look weird. You still look great, beautiful like a rose, but he misses the old you under those layers of makeup.

A rose still has thorns, though.

Aizawa's strong stare from the rear-view mirror has the both of you sitting up straighter. "Hero/n, you are undeniably the best in the underground heroes' department. Dynamight, you have talent and skills that allow you to adapt quickly. I expect this mission to be conducted with nothing but utmost professionalism. Understood?"

There's a beat of silence before you utter words back to your teacher, "You still haven't told me why he's gone and replaced Monoma."

Bakugou does a double take, finally whipping his head to face you.

"I replaced Copying Bastard?"

You rolled your eyes, looking up to meet his. "Yeah. He was supposed to be my partner this evening if he hadn't gotten himself nearly killed in his last assignment."

Eraser sighs. "The both of you have had a prior relationship. Agency's said that they wanted it to look more natural. Not to mention Monoma's untimely injuries had us scrambling to find a suitable replacement. Thanks to Bakugou's swift response, we managed to change the documents in time before the fiasco got noticed."

"THAT'S PRECISELY WHY YOU SHOULD HAVE SOMEONE ELSE TAKE THE DAMN JOB," Bakugou booms, slumping down in his seat with a groan.

Aizawa raises a quizzical eyebrow, before his eyes narrow. "What did I say about professionalism?"

"Fine," You spit out, as the car pulls over into a beautiful mansion. "We'll do the damn job. But I want compensation for the lack of communication on my end."

Aizawa smiles cryptically, "Don't worry, I'm sure the agency will plan many compensations once they know how badly they fucked this up."

--

It's almost comical how awkward Bakugou feels about you. His arm is looped around your waist intimately, firmly pressed against your body as a sign of protection even though he knows you don't need it. Your body is relaxed, eyes soft and sparkling prettily at him with a warm smile he hasn't seen in years.

It's only when he touches your back that he can feel the rigid tension you keep hidden as you beam at the doorman, who identifies you two with a nod of his head. "Ah, yes! The newlyweds, correct?"

You don't even flinch.

Fucking shapeshifter.

The party inside is loud and jarring, making Bakugou curse internally because he doesn't like the noise. He never did fancy parties. He lets you do the talking, the socialising, the mingling. It's almost too easy to fall back into this routine of your broken relationship.

The arm around your waist.

The glare he shoots people when they start to get too overbearing.

God, he wants you back.

"I might need to head to the toilet soon," You sigh, smiling up at him as you place a delicate hand on his bicep. Bakugou knows you too well to know what that actually means.

We should slip away soon.

"Of course, love," He responded, affirming your decision. That sleazy murderer had barely given you two a glance. It would be easier anyway to raid his house for evidence-

"Ah, the Bakugous," A voice interrupts his thoughts, and immediately he feels you straighten up to greet whoever strikes up a conversation with you. "Tanuki!" You greet, "Thank you so much for inviting us here."

Bingo.

"It's wonderful to see the both of you here tonight." He has the nerve to grin, a borderline deranged smile of a serial killer in disguise. Tanuki trains his beady eyes on the blond, "Your wife is absolutely stunning, I must say. You've picked a good one."

If that line hadn't ruffled your feathers, it sure got Bakugou to hate this guy even more. "Yeah? Well, this one's mine." He replies reflexively, tightening his arm around you. "Mind showing us the way to the washrooms? I'd like to freshen up in time for your closing speech."

He feels a surprised grip from your arm as he hides his smug smile. Yeah, fuck you and your pretty dress and makeup, he read the damn file. Just cause he doesn't do undercover missions doesn't mean he can't act.

He's the best at everything.

Tanuki nods his head, mindlessly waving his glass in a vague direction. "Of course. Just go up the stairs and open the 3rd door on your left. Don't be long now!"

You thank him again (while Bakugou does not) as the both of you walk in the direction he pointed you to. "Laying it on thick, huh," You say under your breath as you walk up the stairs together. "Thanks for getting us out of there."

Instantly, heat floods his cheeks as he replays what he had said earlier. Oh, God. The minute you reach the second floor and ensure nobody was there, you finally unlatch yourself from Bakugou's arm, eyes averted and cheeks pinked.

Oh, right. This is just pretend.

Bakugou swallows thickly, averting his eyes. He already misses the fact that you aren't by his side. "Let's find his office."

You find his workroom with ease thanks to the blueprint that was provided by your agency. Unfortunately for you though, it's locked by a card reader. "Let me have a go, I'll blast it open," Bakugou grunts, but one raised eyebrow from you has him backtracking his steps. "What?" He gruffs.

"Your quirk could set something on fire." You explained. "Just imagine what would happen if you end up blowing this entire place up. There're people downstairs too."

"Well then what do you suppose?" he bites back.

You roll your eyes, the soft, accommodating skin you wore downstairs already shredded and discarded. "By using this," you reach into a secret pocket in your dress, pulling out a slim keycard with a sly grin.

Bakugou almost gaps at you. "You shrewd pickpocketer,"

"Sticky fingers," You hum, swiping it across the keypad and swinging the door open with ease.

You're both greeted with the sight of files scattered across the mahogany table, warm, luxurious curtains, and a bookshelf stuffed full of documents. "Jackpot," Bakugou whispers. Stepping into the room, you take one of the files and scan it with widened eyes. "He's forging these files to make his victims' deaths look like an accident."

Bakugou's eyes narrow as he peers over your shoulder. You point at the dates and other parts of a paragraph. "He's making sure nobody knows that there's a connection between him and these esteemed people, that's why there hasn't been enough evidence of him so far!"

"Well, then we have what we need, then!" Bakugou says, gathering the files on the table and holding them close to his chest. "Let's get the hell out of here before anyone finds us-"

As quick as the wind, you lunge at Bakugou and pull him down to hide under the table. Scowling, Bakugou's confusion starts to dissipate in anger, "Oi, what are you-"

"Shh!"

Your hearing must be better than his, because it's only now that he can hear footsteps clambering towards the room.

"Shit," A voice says, slicing through the silence.

Tanuki.

"Someone's been in my office."

The both of you glance at each other, reaching the same realisation at the same time. He looks at you, and you look at him.

And then, you grin.

Bakugou knows what that smirk means.

It's go time.

Shooting to his feet, he held his hands in front of his face with an unhinged grin plastered over his face. "Surprise, Tanuki."

The fight doesn't take long, even though his Quirk was one that was annoying to get around. Then again, the both of you are in sync, the fighting almost looking as if you were dancing around your opponent without even uttering a word. You apprehended him in under 10 minutes.

"We've arrested the murderer." You say, voice strong and authoritative. "We're coming to the meeting spot."

And just like that, it's all over.

Part of him wishes that you could have just kept on going, playing along with the charade and believe that he still has you. But he doesn't.

This is real life and when he goes home that day, he remembers to catalogue every fucking memory in his mind because that was probably going to be the last time he would get to hold you like that.

What he doesn't know is that you too are thinking about everything too, kicking yourself over and over at the feelings that had resurfaced for him. The sensation of just having him hold you tight and feel protected is a feeling you'd buried under layers of suppression.

Sure, Monoma has pretended to be your boyfriend multiple times before, but it's never felt like this. No, when Bakugou did it, there was a spark of warmth that blossomed inside your heart, as if everything was authentic.

If only the night had gone longer, if only you could have talked to him properly.

If only you could just keep...

Playing pretend.

#mha #mha fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugō #bakugo x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katuski x reader #my hero academia #bakugou angst #angst #undercover #undercover missions

[onthepyre]

Steve's life is going to fall apart, he thinks.

Dustin's away at summer camp, Nancy's left for college two weeks early. He has a late shift at six, a house to return to that's emptier than usual, and a funeral to attend at eleven sharp tomorrow morning. His mother is writing a eulogy and his father is cold and pale in a box in some back room of the funeral home. He can't get the image out of his head.

At half past five, he shakes himself out of the stupor he's been sitting in. It's been at least twenty minutes since he's last moved, but really, who knows — all he's aware of is his aching back and the sharp pain in his neck from the hunched position he'd assumed at the kitchen table. Steve's car keys have left an imprint on his hand. He'd forgotten he was holding them. The Family Video vest is in his car, tossed haphazardly over the dash, and he shrugs it on over his gray polo before he pulls out of the driveway. Robin's house isn't far, something he's glad for. Less time he has to spend alone. Maybe she won't notice how tired he looks in the quickly dimming light.

She does. It's Robin, after all. Steve can't hide much from her.

"Hey, Stevie," she says as she slides into the passenger seat. Her voice is gentle, the way she might speak to an injured cat. "How are you doing?"

"It’s pretty bad," he tells her, and it feels like he's confessing to a crime. "I didn't get out of bed until, like, two hours ago and I still want to go back to sleep."

"Yeah?" she asks. He can tell she isn't sure what else to say.

"Yeah."

"I'm really sorry. I know that's pretty much the least helpful, most generic thing I could say, but I mean it. I can’t imagine how… how hard it must be."

There's a long pause. Steve starts thinking they're just going to drive in silence for the rest of the time, which is weird, especially for Robin. It makes him want to cry, sort of — that she, of all people, can't find anything to say to him. Inadvertently, he grips the wheel tighter.

"We'll close early," she says finally, timid in a way she usually isn't. "Keith can suck my dick, I don't care. He'll get over it. And we'll go get ice cream, if you want, and then I'll come stay over. If that's alright."

"Yeah," Steve answers, and God, there are tears in his eyes. "That would be great." He's careful not to let his voice catch.

"I'm thinking 8:00 — we'll start shutting down at 7:30 and be out by a quarter past. Then we've got almost an hour until Dairy Queen closes, unless you want to go somewhere else?" Out of the corner of his eye, Steve can see Robin twisting one of the rings on her left hand. Like a gut-punch, he knows it's the shitty tin band, the one he'd gotten out of a quarter machine at the arcade and fake-proposed to her with. She hadn't taken it off since that day.

Steve pulls into the parking lot, and turns to her once he's parked the car. She's still fiddling with the ring, so he reaches over to take her hand.

"Rob, listen," he says. "I'm not gonna fall apart. I'll be okay." He can tell that they both know it isn't true.

"You don't have to be," she tells him, and through slightly blurry vision, Steve can tell she's tearing up, too. "You can fall apart, it's all right. We'll put you back together. I'll be here the whole time."

Steve isn't sure why it's a problem, but he needs to make sure Robin doesn't see him cry. He gets out of the car and turns away. He can hear her, four feet away, doing the same.

———

The shift, short as it is, passes slowly and in relative quiet. Robin feels too far away, but the little bit of stability they've found since getting out of the car is fragile, winding between them like a spiderweb. If Steve reaches out, he'll break it.

They follow her schedule exactly, locking the door behind them at 8:15 — two hours before they're supposed to. Steve isn't one to get worked up about things like this, but he's even less worried than he usually would be. Nobody ever comes in on Thursday nights. The only people that will know are him and Robin.

"So, Dairy Queen?" she asks as she opens the door. "Or do you want to go somewhere else?"

"Dairy Queen is fine," he tells her. Nothing will really make him feel better, he thinks, but ice cream can't hurt.

The drive isn't long, but it feels like it. Steve can hardly stand whatever version of Robin this is, the one that's treating him like he's about to crumble at any second. She's right, but that's part of the reason it's getting to him so much. If the silence was unfounded, it wouldn't hurt so bad.

She insists on paying, and Steve almost can't stomach the sweetness of the Oreos. Robin gets M&Ms so he can pick at hers, too.

"So, how's band been going?" Steve asks, just to break the quiet.

Robin tilts her head a little. There's pity in her eyes.

"Pretty good," she says slowly. "The directors always get super uptight around concert season, so that's starting to kick in. We just got our last piece. It's this stupid hard classical thing — Stravinsky, I think — fuckin' Russians. It would be awesome, though, if we could play it right."

This is the Robin he knows. Fuckin' Russians, he thinks. It makes him smile.

"That's great. What's it about?"

"Oh, I have no idea," Robin says with a grin. "It’s from the Firebird, and it has something to do with hell, and it's impossible to play."

"I'll have to come to the concert." Steve holds her eye for a second, but when it goes on too long and her smile shifts to an expression of sympathy, he turns his gaze down into his blizzard.

"Steve…" she starts, but she leaves it there, reaching across the table.

"Can we go?" He squeezes her hand and she does the same.

"Yeah, of course. Come on, we can go straight to sleep if you want."

They do — or they try to. As soon as they're home and settled, Robin in a pair of shorts she'd left there and one of Steve's old shirts, Steve much the same, they spread out blankets on the floor of his room and try to sleep. Robin's presence is a comfort, but not enough for Steve to get the coffin out of his head.

"Can you talk?" Steve asks, rolling over in his bed to face her in the dark. "About anything you want, I don't care. Just say something. Ramble."

She reaches up to put a hand on the bed, and he places his on top.

"I love you," Robin begins. "The other day, I learned that a quarter of the world's population has tuberculosis. Well, not has, like they're sick with it, but they have the bacteria in them. That's insane. Tuberculosis is up there with rabies for me, you know? There's a new outbreak of it that's resistant to the treatments, and I know it's not likely we'd get it here in Hawkins, but man, it would suck so much. Especially if it was one of those drug resistant strains. We'd end up sad little waifs like in the Victorian era and we'd die a slow death and there would be nothing they could do."

"I love you," Steve responds. "Can you come up here, Rob?"

"Yeah, for sure."

Robin stands up and climbs into bed next to him. He can make out the shape of her, squinting at him. Neither moves for a moment.

"How are you holding up?" she asks.

Only then, in the darkness, does Steve let himself fall apart.

It comes on slowly, but he knows it's coming as soon as she asks. He can't speak around the lump in his throat, so he just sits there fighting tears until she reaches out and pulls him into her chest. He breaks then. He sobs in Robin's arms for a while as she rubs his back and whispers reassurances to him. He feels like a little kid.

"Sorry," he gets out as it starts to die down.

"Shh." She buries her face in his hair. "Don't. It's alright. I'm not going anywhere, Stevie. This is what I'm here for."

Steve is hit with another wave of tears, this time a mixture of grief and gratitude. Robin, true to her word, stays. She holds him tighter still as he clutches her like she's the only thing keeping him tethered.

"I love you," she says under her breath. "I love you. It's alright. I'm here. I love you. I've got you. I love you."

She keeps going like that endlessly, quietly, into the top of Steve's head. Only when the sobs have slowed to sniffles does Robin stop, and even then, she keeps running her hands across his back, occasionally punctuated by a kiss pressed to his hair. There, cradled like a toddler against her chest, Steve starts to put himself back together. They fall asleep like that, intertwined, at home.

#stranger things #st #stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #fanfiction #june's writing