#having an eye for these kinds of stuff and taking it up as a hobby. and growing into something resembling friendship with percy
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the girl next door 12
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
“How about it, Holly?” Steve’s voice brings you back from your trance.
You only realise then that you’ve zoned out. You look down at your plate, your burger half-eaten and the salad mostly gone. As your mom babbled on, you’d lost yourself staring out at the lawn. It didn’t really matter, she barely acknowledged you since you came out with dinner.
You glance between her and Steve, lost in the conversation already underway.
“I’d love that, it will be nice,” your mom answers, beaming across the table; the shade of the umbrella gathering in the lines of her face.
“How about you, kiddo? Grab you pajamas and join the party,” Steve looks at you.
“Huh?” You and your mom utter in unison.
“Both of us?” She asks in a brittle quaver.
“Yeah, sure, it’ll be a nice way to connect. Holly, I know you’re a mother first, it’s a package deal.”
“Mm, yeah, I just... I misinterpreted,” she puts her hand against her neck. “A sleepover, that’s fun.”
“I felt bad about last time. Don’t want anyone left out of movie night. I got popcorn, mph,” he turns to you again, “do you like cream soda? I got some cane stuff in the glass bottles--”
“That’s a lot of sugar,” your mother murmurs.
“It’s one night,” he shrugs, “it won’t hurt. Lots to go around.”
“I guess...” she forces a smile.
“Well, we can always hold off. I did promise ice cream,” he sits back and claps his thighs. “You all done?”
You stare at the table then look up in the silence. You don’t realise he’s talking to you. You nod. Your stomach won’t settle. It’s been off all day; you wonder if maybe the maple syrup was a bit too much yesterday.
“I’ll wrap it up for you, you can have it later if you want,” he stands and takes your plate, then your mother’s and his own. Where you nibbled through barely half, they had nothing left.
You sit back and cross your arms as Steve goes inside. Your mother sighs and glares past you. She’s annoyed even if you hadn’t made the decision yourself. You didn’t even accept the invitation.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “you just can’t help but get in the way.”
She leans forward. When she’s angry, her tremors worsen. She’s barely able to keep her head still.
“I didn’t...”
“Oh, be quiet. He only feels bad for you because he knows I can’t get rid of you,” she sneers. “He knows you have nothing go for you. No job, no friends, no hobbies.” She sits back and huffs, “I tried to raise you better. I really did. I don’t know what happened.”
You lower your head. Maybe you can come up with a lie. If you can find an excuse to leave, she won’t be able to hate you.
“I could say I’m not feeling well--”
“Just stay out of the way,” she snarls.
You sniff and turn away, hiding the gloss of tears in your eyes. Sometimes, you don’t do anything at all and she’s mad. You hear Steve coming back out and you wipe your nose, keeping your face down as you shrink.
You can be invisible. You’re good at that.
🏠
Not wanting to seem ungrateful, you accept a bowl of ice cream and finish it. Strawberry. It's delicious but you just can't enjoy it. You're uneasy, unsure.
You go to grab some pajamas, your mother issuing another warning before you return to Steve's. You wear a pair of polka dot bottoms and a jersey shirt. You'll just be watching tv, and hopefully, if you can settle down, sleeping.
Your mother sits on the couch. You can see the fatigue quivering in her lip and drooping in her eyelids. She never did as much before your new neighbour. You only ever stayed inside and wilted in the sunlight.
"Holly, you need anything?" Steve asks as he pushes up the ottoman, "how about you put your feet up. I just wanted to show her something."
"What's that?" Your mom asks.
"Oh, yeah, well, I know she likes art so I wanted to show her my studio. Or office, whatever you wanna call it."
"Mm, right. Upstairs, huh?" She grumbles.
"Right," he confirms, "we won't be too long. You can find a movie." He hands her the remote, "I had some extra pencils and stuff I found on the move. Figured she could take em off my hands."
"Sure, sure," she yawns and leans her head in her hands. You can't tell if she's witholding herself out of exhaustion or for Steve's benefit.
"Come on. We'll just pop up for minute," Steve nudges your arm.
You hug one arm across your stomach and push your shoulder up. You take his direction as he points you actoss the room. You go to the stairs and climb one by one.
Further down, he takes you into another room, just across from an open bedroom. You shuffle inside and can't help marvel at the interior. The walls are hung with still lifes in pencil, charcoal, and ink, and an easel stands by the window, a large drafting table at the center of the room.
"You do these?" You ask bluntly.
"Ha, yeah, I... when I saw your sketchbook, I admit, I got a bit excited. A fellow artist."
"You're an artist? You make money off of this?"
"Sure do," he smiles proudly. "Did some time in the army then had to get out, find some peace. Always found painting calms me."
"Oh."
"I wanted to say something sooner but I wanted to show you," he enters and brushes by you, hand dragging across your back. "Let me find those pencils."
You nod and pace cautiously around the table. There's an open sketchbook. A woman's naked back greets you, a piece of fabric draped around her hips as her refined profile is etched perfectly.
He's good. Better than you. You back away as he sorts through the shelf.
'Ah, here," he turns to you again, "pencils, sketchbook, oh and maybe you'll want these watercolours. I was sent two by accident."
"Oh, uh, thanks, but... you don't have to."
"You're talented. You'll make good use of them, I know it."
"Mm, I... try."
"There's this place I know. Great view. Maybe you can come one day. Good fodder," he offers. "Trees, water, and the sunset..."
"Maybe," you agree half-heartedly.
"Then maybe you can bring it to my next art show."
"Art show?" You mutter, eyes rounding.
"Sure. It'll be good for you. I know you take care of your mom and that's sweet but you gotta make your way. Eventually."
"I know," you slump and take the sketchbooks and flat tins from him. "Thank you. I..." you look at the brand names. You know they're expensive from the catalogues you look at but never buy from. "No one... these are so nice. I appreciate it."
"No problem, sweetie. Let me know if you need anything else. Hell, if you want a quiet place to work..." he stops behind you and looks around, "even just an escape..."
“That's okay,” you say as you go back into the hall.
You head back downstairs, the pencils clattering just a little in your hands. As you enter the living room, you hear a snort. Your mom's head lolls back against the couch as she snores. Steve walks into you from behind as he stops too late.
“Oop,” he frames your hips for just a moment as he presses again your back then parts. “Sleepyhead,” he chuckles and sidles past you, a waft of his cologne filling your lungs. He didn't smell so strongly before. “Well, guess it's your choice, sweetie,” he takes the remote and holds it out to you.
“Oh, uh, you choose,” you try to wave him off but he pushes the remote into your hand.
“You can put your stuff on the table,” he points to the sketchbook clutches against your chest, “better get cozy while I get the popcorn going.”
Before you can argue, he's gone. You turn to look at your mom. Why did she have to fall asleep? She could've said no to all of this, that she's too tired. Now it's you and Steve. Hopefully, the movie keeps the chatter to a minimum.
#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#the girl next door#drabble#series#au#silverfox au#captain america#mcu#marvel
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I both love and hate that Billy won’t admit his true feelings to a girl he cares about. That’s just so canon. I can see him the second he starts having feelings, freaking out in his head and distancing himself. Poor Bills 😫 Maybe that’s why I love fanfic where he has a happy ending. He really deserves one
Idk if you were asking for little blurbs but, that’s what you GET! <3
Ughhhh same same. I think he’s just so…. Fearful perhaps? Really afraid and stubborn to just open up and share what he feels (also also also the fear of being abandoned is soooo strong when he’s with someone he cares about in my opinion).
So then yes he starts distancing himself because it’s easier for him to put up those walls before he gets hurt, but maybe you’re also a little stubborn. Or just oblivious. And despite the fact that he is really trying to get away from you, you just can’t let that happen. <3
I think he’d be pretty strict on you two being “Just friends.” No arguments, he’s too scared to fully talk about labels or that he’d like you enough to consider you to be his partner (he’s crazy about you).
And I think you’d also have to deal with this man staring at you just all the time. He loves eye contact already but he also just loves to memorize how you look?? Definitely has your little quirks down and when you ask him why he’s staring he’s always gonna say you have something on your face lmao.
I think he’s also like reserved about physical touch? Very scared of accidentally hurting you at first and it’s just so uncommon to him that he gets all nervous and his hands get all sweaty and clammy lol. But once he’s over that?? He’s touching you all the time, everywhere and it doesn’t matter who’s around lol.
And so yeah maybe he won’t admit that he’s absolutely whipped and crazy about you but I think you could certainly tell by his gestures? Soft nose kisses, tracing your lips and holding you close any time he can <3
He will definitely refer to you as his pretty girl (or pretty boy whichever you prefer). I think he’d definitely warm up to like baby or babe but calling his person pretty really warms his heart <3
Piggybacking off of that like… he would get so flustered and defensive if you compliment him. Would act like he cannot believe you did such a thing and pshhh, him? Pretty?? Absolutely cannot handle you saying such things about him. He knows he’s attractive but something about you saying it so gently, so sweetly and softly makes his knees weak.
Okay and I think at first too he just… is not the best gift giver. He has not had that practice before so it’s not necessarily sloppy but when he buys you things it would be within the hobby that you enjoy, but more of his style (for instance if you like reading he’s 100% getting you his favorite genre or book). Which is also, sweet but I do think he’s observant enough that after the first few times he truly understand what you like and what you don’t like.
I also think he’s down with restaurant dates and going to the movie theater and what not but I truly believe he loves to do things that are more sensual and deep? He’s definitely a late night, lying under the stars and having deep talks kind of guy. It takes a lot for him to open up but you best believe he has you memorized like the back of his hand.
AND I also think he is just such a gentleman?? Holding the door open for you, holding your hand as you step up a curb, giving you his jacket?? All of those omg.
I think he’d also ask your parents permission to date/marry you and all of that stuff (granted you have a good relationship with him). He just seems like he’d really want to have a good relationship with them too??
I’d also like to think that he just admits his feelings just randomly, maybe not even fully realizing he did it either?? Say you’re sat together on your couch early on a Saturday morning watching cartoons, definitely a little hungover, and he’s just like “You know I love you, right?”
And you’re just so taken aback and this is definitely not the scene that you imagined (neither did he) but it just works. Takes a lot for you to muster the words back because how emotional would that be?? Then he’d just squeeze your knee with a little smile and settle back into comfortable silence 🥺
Idk if any of this made sense but but he’s just my special little guy I luv him very dearly hehe
#is this formatted at all??? no#take it or leave it!!#was this done at 7 am when I rolled over cuz my fat cat jumped on me??#yes#does it make any sense???#probably not#but I’m very emotional about this man#and I have strong opinions#my squish <3#billy hargrove#billy Hargrove x reader#Blurbs#ask#Billy Hargrove blurb
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i know it was just a random newsletter thing but nico getting into making funky shirts is a very cute and fun prospect not going to lie
#hes what 14 15? right now hes wading through the trauma of the past few years but i like the idea of him#having an eye for these kinds of stuff and taking it up as a hobby. and growing into something resembling friendship with percy#rrverse#Nico di Angelo
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SYNASTRY: Venus in the houses (7th-12th) part 2
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Note: Honestly, I had a draft for the 2nd part, but probably I deleted by mistake, or tumblr did it (idk). Maybe, That's why I thought I already posted the 2nd part, but I was wrong.
Part 1 🩷
♡ Venus in the 7th house ♡
These couple usually views commitment as all or nothing, are you in or not? They have strong values about true love, and they will follow them. Love is viewed as a contract by their souls or hearts. If they break any aspect proposed, they know it's the end. They can be reflections of themselves either the good or the bad. When the contract is done, it's over. The Venusian sees the house person as a very stable being. They feel safe and prepared for them. These two may live together before the year of knowing each other romantically. The pair just feel ready when it's about commitment. The house natives perceive the Venusian as very "wife/husband" material for them. With this overlay, their personalities blend well and work together. It feels natural for both of you to be close and intimate together. For others is moving too fast, and for them is easy to become intimate with each other. The seventh house person fits well for the planet native. These two feel like it's a soulmate connection, very easy. You’re both drawn to please each other. It's a very strong connection for long-term relationships. It takes time for them to move on if they ever break up. If Venus has bad aspects, it can be a toxic relationship. The reason for this, it's that they prefer to stay together instead of being alone or start something new. Intimate gesture like hugs and someone hand guiding the other. Cooking dates and going out at night the most. "Here, I bought this?";morning texts: " how are you today? My day...." "Can I call you, I miss your voice"; " My mom ask if we can go to her party?" ; "we should go to that restaurant"; Formal clothes; "hey, look me, they don't know how worthy you are". They like to spend time with people they love. Balance. If Venus cooks today, the house will do it tomorrow. Wearing nice clothes and a good perfume to impress the other. Compliments and physical touches, especially kisses in the cheek. Cheesy things like love letters. Having "the song" or the place.
♡ Venus in the 8th house ♡
These two have a different kind of love. The Venusian feels like the house person bring something in them that they can explain. Sometimes, these people have taboos to share. Death has impact their lives. The house person may become obssess with the planet person. Sex isn't a way emerger together. Usually, they possess the same interest in taboo topics. In the beginning, Venus feels attracted to the house, but it's also scared of them. Their sexual energy is intense. The 8th house person wants to know the Venusian's secrets and fears. Both are possessive, but the house win the round. They detest when their partner don't respect them. Their relationship status will remain a secret for the public eye (in the beginning). They would share many things even traumas (if hardly aspected). The house native will protect the Planet from the world. Sex can be very intimate or aggressive (bsdm stuff). These people will not be the same they were when they met. For them, love is intense and transformational. The house feels that the Venus native is trustworthy, but they need to see their actions. Holding hands during intimate times. During sex they will talk and have intense stares. "I don't like that person, be aware of them", "Here, use this for yourself"; "if you need money, just let me know"; "don't lie to me, I know you are sad"; his/her hand on your thing while eyes are on the road; taking notes of your gestures. They have weird hobbies together and enjoy dark humor too. Moonlight sex and long sessions.
♡ Venus in the 9th house♡
These individuals perceive love as a new adventure and try to go with the flow. If they're mature, they prefer to maintain a very healthy relationship. Both prefer to travel and know about new places and cultures. Love is not as other say. They may prefer to do things their way. Venusian isn't instantly involve, but they see the house as interesting. For the house native, the planet is nice an attractive, but they will not force things. The house native could be older than the Venusian. The house person likes the planet manners and life vision the most. They see the commitment as an experience. Sometimes, marriage isn't obligatory requirement. They may enjoy walks, museum, and play board games. One could be from another country or have a different culture. Their relationship presents a new chapter in their lives and their families. Besides, they like to engage in intellectual debates, maybe they are into philosophy. If they broke up, they will try to be professional or move on. They can meet later in life after maturing. It's likely that you will work together or in the same environment. Having a child or more is possible, so use protection. "Look at here, we can travel here"; "aww, baby, you were right they declare that"; ["I really want to buy that book" / "baby, you have that book already"]; Saving for vacations; buying esch other souvenirs or antique objects as gifts; reading books and doing a small debates about it; *knowing each other during trips, universities, conferences, cultural events, and religious activities" Buying new editions of books. Love to try new foods or learn about new places together. They could meet while traveling or in college.
♡ Venus in the 10th house♡
Coworkers to lover vibes. They are comfy with being mature. Similarly to the previous combo, the house partner is the older one or has more experience. This partner also has more dominant energy. They could meet in different levels. The negative aspect is that they could be very nitpicking and too logical when it comes to love. The planet individual sees the house person as straightforward and mature. Partnership is very important is like a contract. If one of the part broke a part of the deal, it's done. They can work together or met during their carrer path (college, conference). They are straightforward and mature when approaching the other. If badly aspect, it could have a power imbalance (not good). Big egos over emotions, this is the start of arguments. They plan their dates. The planet person accepts that the house individual cares for their image and professional life. The Venusian isn't afraid of being a home stayed wife. Here the Venusian knows and appreciates the house efforts to balance their stability. Nonetheless, the house person must value the venusian support. Doing plans after they leave the work; caring for the other in profesional settings; making food or leaving notes in the stuff *you can do it* in their computer. Making each other feel valuable "Here, i make you favorite food"; let's celebrate your new position"; *making time to luch together*; naming the other whenever they can "I'm grateful for my wife meals and support"; giving gifts and showing their s/o in public. Even thought people think they aren't super romantic, they will try to match things. It could be rings, watches or wearing the same brand. Looking good.
♡ Venus in the 11th house♡
Love depicts a friend to lover storyline where both care for dreams and humanity. It's very possible that they met when they were helping other people. The Venusian fits the house' s ideal type. They seem more friendlier than other couples. You wouldn't think they were dating. They prefer to joke around, but they love each other. The Venusian share the dreams the house native have for life. It's also likely that they like each other in the future, even if they met since birth. They prefer to have experience with love before settling down. Its common to see them as "I thought they were friends". The Venusian see the house person as humanitarian and very interesting. Stay protected because big family can be a thing. The must clarify about what is a family for both. The house perceives the planet native as beautiful and too much to some people. Together, they will form a very unique pair and family. Regardless Venusian feel the planet as hopeful person. The eleventh house person sees a future with the venusian because they feel understood. Love for the house is independent, and the venusian can see this as as a relief. Making fun of the other in a non hurtful way. "I can't deal with you right now *kiss them*"; "Alexa play Celine one" *grabs the venusian; *hugs their s/o when they're cooking*; being romantic when they're alone; sending spicy texts "come home, I'm ready"; talking about the future; matching devices or wallpapers; a lot of trust, they share passwords. Having the same or similar friends. They like to help. Donating for other people as a hobby or helping to people who need. Dates in the nature. Cleaning beaches, rivers or places.
♡ Venus in the 12th house♡
Love is simple but blurry. They can't get confused in how they love. The house sees the Venusian see them as the real deal. The planet perceive the house native as too good for them. There are some blurry aspects that they don't understand. When this synastry happens, it can feel too blurry for outsiders. Sometimes, they feel as friends and others as partners. At times, they hide their feelings without realizing or because they don't want to hurt the other. The house may hide their crush for the planet (too well). The Venus feel like the house person hides things for them. The house native don't want to bother the venusian. The house wants to give all they have to the venusian without having a concrete reason (maybe they are friends, but they are their #1 friend). This connection feel very special even divinely guided. The house is very observant with the Venusian Different backgrounds, it's possible that the house person has faith or not. One (usually the venusian) is more intuitive. Venus comes to open the house's eyes to other knowledge. The house will do all they can, so the venusian is happy. They can be soulmates (even non platonic). On the negative side, they don't have good communication because they avoid confronting each other. Both have experience paranormal activity, but only one believes more. The Venus person will try to invite the house to their home (pure opening of their soul). The Venusian can be quite delulu, but the house see it as funny. They met when something is ending for the Venusian. Romantic times, home dates, asking the other about thing carefully, a special vibe around them. *Big smiles and shiny eyes*, "I buy you this; you tell me two months ago around 9pm" "aww thank you", "are you sleeping well?" - "yes" , *astrology or tarot talks* "can you give your birth time?" - "12:34 am" " it was bad?" "No, we match". Talk about paranormal activities like any other topic, special dates, random celebrations, secret spots, discreet dates, spirtual conection, they may understand the other, but can't explain it.
Take what resonates only. 💚
#venus#venus synastry#astrology#venus in the 7th house#astrologynotes#zodiac#astrology community#venus in the 12th house#venus in the 8th house#venus in the 11th house#Venus in the 9th house#venus in the 10th house#astrologia#aries#scorpio#libra#deepmochi#pisces
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headcanon request: how would the jjk guys react if someone's trying to flirt with them but they're already in a relationship with their s/o?
YES i love some light jealousy teehee
___
GOJO SATORU
has no chill if someone's flirting with him. or worse, he thinks someone's flirting with him, but they're just taking his order, or letting him know his shoe is untied.
he's literally "I'M MARRIED"
(for the untied shoe one, he definitely trips when he runs off)
he's so annoying abt it fr. always throwing "i have a wife" (even long before you're married) around even when unnecessary
and ppl do flirt with him, he's gojo, but sometimes... he's just a lot.
even if someone looks at him too long, he's wrapping his arm around you and loudly announcing "in front of my wife? you're lucky i'm holding her back!"
and you're just standing there bewildered with the box of cereal you were about to toss into the cart and wondering who the hell he's talking to- and when the hell did he propose??
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
for the most part he doesn't really notice when someone's flirting with him. i think it would take some very obvious hints.
so say someone is really trying to get him to catch on, pulling all the stops- fluttering eyelashes, unnecessary touching, one too many comments about his eyes, and finally, slipping a piece of paper into his hand with their phone number.
megumi can accidentally be a little cold.
he scowls at the phone number before crumpling the paper and dropping it.
"i don't want that," he's completely expressionless when he speaks, and honestly, the flirt-er is lucky he said anything at all rather than straight up walking away. "i have a girlfriend"
and then he walks away.
and when he meets up with you again he's a little more affectionate than usual, holding you a little longer, pulling you closer when you settle on the couch or bed or wherever, kissing you a few extra times for good measure.
don't get him wrong, it's not out of guilt or anything. he just wants you to know that he thinks of you when you're apart, and that he appreciates and loves you to death. nothing could ever change that.
ITADORI YUUJI
i don't often add him to my brainrot posts but i SHOULD and i had the most brilliant thought for him specifically
if he's getting hit on, he'll shut it down casually enough, and just blatantly tell them they're not his type.
and then he'll just start listing everything about you. and lover boy is BABBLING ok, no one could shut him up
he's describing your hair your eyes your nose your hands your style- and once he gets thru the physical stuff, it gets random
he's talking about your hobbies, your weird interests or collections, how sometimes you're a bad driver but you try your best lmfao he gets on such a tangent i don't think he'd even realize his tactic for defusing the flirting is just confusing the other person to the point of no longer wanting to give him their number
and once he's done with his dreamy little speech, he just goes "like my partner!!" all excited and bubbly
he's always rushing off to meet up with you then, having got himself so eager to be around you some more
OKKOTSU YUUTA
he's polite, but firm. he can also be a little quick to say he's taken, but it's only because he wants to let people down easy!
he's very kind when urning down phone numbers or flirty advances, always giving a gentle smile and saying no thank you, or actually i have a girlfriend. and he never apologizes when he says the second one, but that doesn't mean he's cruel! he's just thoughtful and respectful of you!
yuuta's a total gentleman.
but. god forbid. if he gets one of those nasty ppl that pull the "your girlfriend doesn't have to know" bullshit. oh boy. he does not handle that well.
toxic!yuuta jumps out a little!!
for as polite as he can be, he can get nasty when provoked just right, and someone disrespecting you? his beloved?
first it's a lecture- how dare you suggest such a thing? do you often try to break up people's perfect love lives?
then it's standing up for your honor- do you know how wonderful and lovely my partner is? you couldn't even understand the lengths that their radiance extends to. this part usually gets a little messy. he can get carried away when talking about you.
and lastly, he gets personal. deeply. personal. if they're having a not-so-great hair day, or if their attempts at slipping him their number were particularly weak, he's pouncing on that. he sniffs out weakness like a goddamn Chivalrous Boyfriend Bloodhound and sinking his claws in. i think yuuta could be really mean if he wanted to.
but that's kinda hot tho
INUMAKI TOGE
definitely the funniest of all of them. bcuz if he's getting hit on, he kinda just... stands there.
._.
CAUSE HE LITERALLY CANT SAY ANYTHING ???
sure, he could play it off like he doesn't understand what they're saying, or even type a little note in his phone saying he has a partner... but...
toge definitely prefers to stand there, completely blank faced, and stretch out the discomfort as long as possible.
sometimes people just scowl and walk away, finding it rude
one time tho someone actually started tearing up and completely ran away
(you came back just as it happened, an ice cream cone in each hand and a confused look on your face. but there's no way your sweet, mute boyfriend made a person cry, right?)
#satoru brainrot#megumi brainrot#yuuta brainrot#toge brainrot#megumi x reader#satoru x reader#yuuta x reader#toge x reader#gojo satoru x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#okkotsu yuuta x reader#inumaki toge x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk headcanons#gojo satoru headcanons#fushiguro megumi headcanons#inumaki toge headcanons#okkotsu yuuta headcanons#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji headcanons#yuuji brainrot
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Heheha!!! Could I request about being Lilia Vanrouge's personal "stress ball"? (Aka relieve of stress via sex)
And he just LOVES degrading you and doing stuff to make you cry and beg?
Imagine if he like, makes you go on his cock while he's lying down, and he just orders you to pleasure him because he's too lazy too (what a lie) and he will randomly snap his hips at random times up just to see your reaction. Then it would go to full-blown fucking after a while, but y'know, you get it
Fingering you while you're blindfolded and you have to guess which finger he's using. Get it wrong, and you don't get to cum! But he lies, and makes you beg to cum. Fucks you into tomorrow, ehe!
Etc, etc...
Then imagine that after the war, he realises that he actually likes you! Confession? Fluff? And more smut? Lol my brain is now empty, pls expand.
AHHHHHHHHHH I READ THIS A COUPLE TIMES OVER BECAUSE IT'S SO GOOD??? moister than an oyster over here eheheheheh I wrote something pretty similar about this concept of Lilia taking home a human sex toy, it is very short and not in-depth but you can take a read of it -> HERE hehehe
This might be a little dark, so warning you... 18+ below with some dark themes, a bit of non-con sprinkled in there. Rough fucking, Lilia a little mean :[ but he turns out pretty soft hearted after it all <3 mildly rushed, hopefully you still enjoy <3
But I LOVE to imagine the fact that it starts out as just a fling- a way for him to let out his anger and frustrations through pleasurable means. To see you cry out as he continues to thrust into you- the chains on your hands making your wrists become sore. You kind of liked this, though, being tied up and used as the Generals release. Something about it was enticing to you, despite the toll it sometimes takes upon your body.
He lets you free of course, but he loves the way you tighten around him and how much more warm you feel when you're chained up. There's times when he comes back utterly exhausted from the days endeavors, sitting down with his head tilted back and his hands covering his eyes, legs spreading. His gaze flickers down to your needy body, before he unzips his pants pulling out his cock. Soft at first, before he tells you to entertain him enough to get him hard.
If you weren't able to properly arouse him- you'd be punished for it either later or in that moment. Depends how "tired" he is.
"You understand I've had a long day, don't you, my little bat? You can't even get me hard all by yourself. I guess I have to do all of the work, don't I?" He grabs a fist full of your hair, pushing your head into the pillow before roughly grabbing you by the hips and pulling your ass to meet his pelvis. He grinds into you before tearing your pants, your feeble whines falling upon deaf ears as he pumps his cock a time or two before entering your hole painfully slow. Now you're whining for a different reason- Lilia chuckling at such neediness. All at once he suddenly snaps his hips against your ass, leaving marks upon the back of your neck almost drawing blood. Your punishment, he says.
Over time, you felt as if Lilia was getting "bored" of you. He was coming home later than usual and didn't call upon your services as often. But this was far from the truth. He started to find himself...interested in you. Once he walked in on you indulging in your hobby, simply existing. You were so beautiful in that moment in his eyes- the way you were focusing on your task, now allowing the outside world to interfere with your happiness in that moment. Being so used to seeing hatred and bloodshed, Lilia almost forgot what it was like to be happy. He began to realize that you were indeed more than just a toy to be used at his disposal, and with this slight change of heart, he began to treat you differently.
Coming closer to the end of the war, instead of keeping you up all night to have his way with you, it would be spent asking you questions and talking about what life would be like after the war. Your hopes and dreams, your hobbies, your future plans. He began to bring you heartier food and random trinkets he felt would suite your interests, even bringing you a peony at some point, not without a deep blush and quickly disappearing into thin air almost as if to avoid your reaction. He was becoming gentler, and you weren't sure how to feel about it. Was it a trap? Was he getting your hopes up to take you by surprise? After all, you spent so long thinking you had not much worth besides being used for his sick and twisted pleasure.
Once the war was officially declared as over, you were his first visit. The first on his mind in which he wanted to share this moment, running swiftly to the cottage in which you took shelter in. You were standing in front of the garden with a smile on your face as he came back to you.
During that period in which he began to treat you differently, you had also become much more light hearted and comfortable around the fae. Perhaps a mistake you often wondered about, yet you continued on with reckless abandon nonetheless. "Lilia! It's finally over! I'm so proud-" You were cut off as he ran to you and immediately smashed his lips against yours. He had never kissed you so gently yet so passionately at the same time- his hands snaking around your body and pulling you close, almost like...a hug. Your heart dropped for a moment- thinking perhaps this was the time in which he decided to ravage you. When the war was over and worries were off his mind- he could have his way with you once again. How twisted.
"...Shall I go get my chains?" He was startled at this, pulling away and looking you in the eyes with a hint of sadness and guilt. He shook his head, pressing his forehead against yours with his hands trembling as he cupped your cheeks, peering into your eyes.
"No more chains," He muttered, "I thought I made it clear that you are not worth your body to me anymore. I apologize if I did not make that clear, my little bat." The nickname he had chosen for you sounded much softer, much more kind, and in the most loving tone, unlike the degradation you were subjected to. You bit your bottom lip as if to hide a giddy smile, Lilia taking notice of this and pressing a kiss against your forehead. The war was over, and Lilia had finally confessed his feelings for you.
The first time you two have sex, he asked permission.
"Can we...I..." He was stuttering over his words. Lilia was so used to taking what he wanted from you that it felt almost weird and awkward to ask for permission- but he promised to do it right.
"I would like to make love with you."
This time, he was gentle. Taking his time with you. He gently lay your back against the bed and propped your legs over his shoulders, bending over to pepper kisses around your face and love marks on your chest. He asked you if you were alright, and was certain to prep you before entering. Your fingers interlocked with each other, his thrusts were short and intimate yet reached the deepest parts of you. This time, it was for your pleasure- not just his own for the taking. With every thrust and every whispered "I love you's" came with praise you were unfamiliar with. This wasn't the same general who simply used you to fill to the brim and bark orders at, this was someone who wanted you to feel the love with every stroke of his hips and dulcet words that left his once fiery mouth.
it's truly a wonder how much people can change.
( @mellowwillowy I think you'd enjoy this one, pookie)
#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#lilia#lilia vanrouge#Lilia x reader#Lilia vanrouge x reader#Lilia smut#Lilia x reader smut#twisted wonderland smut#twst smut#Twst headcannons#twisted wonderland headcannons#twisted wonderland x reader smut
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Cold!reader accidentally letting a laugh slip after someone tells a joke (preferably Spencer) and the team is just a little shocked
CHECKMATE [ONESHOT]
/ˈtʃɛkˌmeɪt/
morgan and spencer just cannot agree on whether or not chess is actually a fun game to play, dragging you and emily into their debate in hopes of gaining a majority vote.
WARNINGS: fem!reader, playful arguing, chess slander
spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 1.1k || series masterlist!!
a/n: do people actually like chess? personally i think it’s really fun but my brother seems to disagree
main masterlist!!
“You play chess in your spare time Reid, at least my hobbies are interesting,” Morgan rolls his eyes with a laugh, leaning against the back of his chair with a confident smirk on his face.
“Chess is interesting,” Spencer furrows his eyebrows slightly at Morgan’s comment, frowning like it was a direct insult to him and not just the game.
It was nine o’clock in the morning, and Spencer and Morgan were having a debate about goddamn chess. What did you do to deserve such torture first thing on a Monday?
Letting Spencer sit opposite you probably, but sometimes he’d basically do your work for you so you suppose it still had its benefits sometimes.
Sometimes being the key word.
Today was not one of those times.
“Interesting to eighty-year-old scholars maybe,” Morgan scoffs at the mere idea that chess could be a fun and intellectual game at the same time.
You didn’t mind chess per se, you wouldn’t choose it as a way to satiate your boredom, but if someone - that someone being Spencer Reid because he was the only one in the office who actually played chess regularly - asked to play a match with you, you wouldn’t turn it down.
“Actually, the average age for competitive chess players is thirty one in the United States,”
Morgan presses his middle finger against his nose bridge like he’s pushing up an imaginary pair of glasses, pointing the index finger of his other hand upwards. “Actually-”
Spencer serves him with a hard push against his shoulder. “Shut up-”
The movement causes Emily to give a little snicker from her own desk, and Morgan takes it as a sign of his victory, clasping his hands together and bringing them to rest behind his head as he crosses his left ankle over his right knee.
“Alright, chess consensus, ‘fun’ or boring?” Morgan throws his arm out to you and Emily as a gesture for your responses.
“Not for me,” Emily’s answer, whilst definitely leaning in Morgan’s favour, is objective enough so that it doesn’t unintentionally insult Spencer’s entire lineage by suggesting that chess can’t be fun.
“Alright, Ice Queen, final vote’s up to you, you can make or break the final verdict here,” Morgan tilts his head dramatically in your direction with his hands outstretched.
You look up from your desk with an exasperated sigh, looking at him through your eyebrows in a clear indication that you don’t want to be involved in the conversation.
“Awe come on don’t look like that, this is very important stuff here,” Its like every word that leaves Morgan’s mouth is just to poke fun at Spencer’s love for playing chess, and as you glance in his direction you can see his eyes on you.
He wanted the answer too. Great.
With an exaggerated groan you lean back in your chair and shrug your shoulders. “It’s fun depending on who you play it with,”
“Oh come on, what kind of half-assed answer is that?” Morgan shakes his head, crossing his arms. “You gotta pick a side here,”
“I’m entirely right,” You mirror Morgan as you cross your arms over your chest. “If you have a shit opponent then obviously it’s going to be boring,” You enunciate your answer as if it applies directly to Morgan himself.
“I am not a ‘shit opponent’,” Morgan rolls his eyes in feigned indignation. “I just get bored half-way through,”
“Because you’re shit and don’t actually know how to play,”
“Not true-”
Spencer’s nodding calls Morgan’s defences insignificant.
“Hey-” Morgan pushes his hand against Spencer’s shoulder. “Don’t agree with her, I’m not bad at chess I just don’t like chess,”
“People who aren’t good at certain activities have a three times higher chance of disliking said activity,” Spencer doesn’t back down from his stance, shrugging lightly with a nonchalant expression.
“Okay, you’re teaming up on me now I’m calling favouritism,” Morgan waves his hands with a shake of his head. “Prentiss back me up here, she is so only siding with Reid because they’re secretly in love with each other,”
“Oh 100%,”
You scoff at Emily’s answer, rolling your eyes. “You’re just defensive because we’re right,”
“Chess is a very intellectual game, maybe you’re just not smart enough to understand it,” Spencer shrugs again as he shoots Morgan down, and a small snicker leaves your mouth at the combination of Spencer’s burn and the look on Morgan’s face as he computes it.
You cover up the tail end of it with a cough, hiding your mouth behind your hand, but it’s not enough to actually cover it up, and Morgan���s face moves from shock to horror as he blinks in your direction. “Am I tripping balls right now or did I just hear a laugh from the robot herself?”
“What? Am I not allowed to laugh now?” You scoff at Morgan’s apparent shock of you being able to experience positive emotions, immediately falling back into your naturally icy demeanour.
“There you are, you got possessed by a spirit of joy there for a second,”
“Shut your mouth,” You throw a crumpled up piece of paper across the desks to hit him square between his eyes and your three coworkers all burst out into laughing fits of their own.
Spencer’s laughter was much quieter than Morgan and Emily’s but it seemed to dominate your ear canals nonetheless, quashing your frustration for Morgan’s attitude under the waves of his voice and again leaving you, as Morgan had so nicely put it, ‘possessed by a spirit of joy’.
He was in a similar state, a small sense of pride flowing through his veins not only because you’d taken his side in his little debate, but also at the fact that he’d managed to make you laugh.
Him. Spencer Reid had actually managed to make the most emotionally guarded person in the whole office actually laugh.
Score one for Spencer.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#mgg#asks 🫶
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Tongue twister—Eddie Munson x f!reader
summary: a dare gets taken a little too far.
word count: 3.3k
A/N: yep, here I am in the Eddie Munson pit as well. anyway:
WARNINGS: alcohol, mentions of drugs, some heavy making out, wandering hands, tension, mutual pining.
gif: @eivorswolfsmal
There’s a nervousness about you when you think about tonight. It’s no special occasion, yet your stomach churns at the thought and your pulse increases.
You love hanging out with Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie.
Eddie.
Even the name makes you nervous.
Somehow, miraculously, you hadn’t given away the fact that you had the biggest crush on him. Either that, or everyone figured it out and they were kind enough to not mention it.
Which would’ve been horrendous news, really.
In the end, you agreed to hang out with the group, willing to eliminate any potential suspicions even before they arise.
Even though you knew everyone and their families for four years, you still weren’t certain how you got to the point where Eddie became omnipresent in your daily thoughts. Granted, he is a very lovely personality to have around, but it had gotten to quite a ridiculous degree. You always found yourself smiling at his silliest jokes, using literally any excuse to establish the littlest physical contact with him or simply looking at him from afar and admiring the spark in his eyes when he spoke about his hobbies and his love for music.
Yep. Safe to say you were smitten.
But you decided to carry that secret with you to the grave. It would’ve been a mess, and, given how close everyone in the group was with each other, it would’ve felt like you were dating them all at the same time.
“Hey. You good?”
Ah, the very reason of your inner torment, right by your side with those soft, puppy dog eyes that made you weak in the knees.
“Yeah,” you nod nervously.
“If not… let me know. I got some stuff that can help out.”
He winks at you and you frown in an attempt to disregard the feeling that gesture wakes in you.
“What kind of stuff are we talking here?” you ask, half curious and half amused.
But Eddie shushes you, bringing his index to his lips. The image makes you gulp this time, and you realize that it’s almost impossible for you to stop staring at his lips.
“Keep it down,” he warns you sweetly, leaning in towards you. “No reason to advertise to everyone here.”
“That makes me feel so special.”
He smiles, and you swear for a fleeting moment you catch him staring at your lips in return.
“That’s cause you are.”
The way he says it whilst looking up at you from your shoulder makes you ache with a burning and forbidden desire. While the rest of the group is fumbling around, getting their drinks and finally sitting on the floor of Steve’s living room, you and Eddie exchange a stare that, if you didn’t know any better, you might easily say is filled with nerve-wrecking tension.
“So… I take it you’re not gonna tell me about that stuff?”
Eddie smiles brightly, looking around before inching even closer to you—if that’s even possible.
“Depends on what you’re looking for,” he says. “If you wanna calm down, I recommend some pot. If you wanna have fun… well. I got a whole other range of stuff for that.”
“Oh, so the real deal?”
“The real deal. I’m talkin’… coke, ecstasy… real stuff.”
“We said stuff too many times.”
“So we have.”
You giggle as you notice Eddie’s face so up close to yours, but then the smile fades, and so does his. You find yourself staring at him once again, this time nearly begging him to make a move, whatever that may be. For another fleeting moment, you feel like there’s no one else around and that time itself freezes, allowing the two of you to simply exist in that one moment.
“We’re all set up, by the way,” Steve announces.
You separate from Eddie and clear your throat, looking around and noticing the group already on the floor in a circle, drinks in the middle.
“Set up for what, exactly?” Eddie asks.
“Game night. Wasn’t it obvious from the invite?”
“All you said was ‘let’s hang out’, so—“
“It’s game night, let’s leave it at that.”
You chuckle, noticing Robin’s glare your way as she sits on your right.
“What?” you ask bemusedly.
“Nothing.”
She purses her lips and takes a sip of her beer, adding nothing else and leaving you more confused than before.
“That’s your Sherlock Holmes glare,” you say.
Robin frowns at you. “My Sherlock Holmes glare?”
“Yeah, you know, when you want to figure something out you give a person that stare. If you wanna know something, you can just ask.”
“I got nothing.”
“Okay, then why—“
“I don’t know, you just seem… nervous and happy at the same time. And also very cozy next to Eddie.”
Your heart jumps in your throat as you swallow around it, trying to play things off as cool as possible.
“I’m cozy around all of you,” you laugh it off. “It’s nothing special.”
“I’d say comfortable, but cozy is a whole other thing. You seem different around him. In a good way though!”
You giggle nervously, grabbing a beer and taking a few sips before replying anything back at her. You fight with all you’ve got to not look at Eddie being immersed in a conversation with Steve.
“Look, all I’m saying is, you seem happy,” Robin concludes with a reassuring smile. “Given recent events, whatever’s causing that… it’s good. And it looks great on you, too.”
In the end, you don’t say anything in return. You find it futile. If Robin suspects something, you let her. She definitely has a knack for understanding emotional things a little bit better than the others.
After a while, you realize that game night had already begun with something called truth or dare. For several reasons, you suspect Steve is the brain behind that, but you let it slide because—well, you can’t argue that it isn’t fun.
The rules are simple: you spin a bottle, get asked truth or dare, and either you spill the beans or do something rather regrettable. You’ve seen plenty from the latter, and that’s precisely why, should the odds be against you tonight, you will undoubtedly go with the truth.
But not with the naked truth.
“Nance. Truth or dare?” Steve asks.
“Dare.”
“Ohh, look who’s being Miss Bold tonight!” Eddie comments.
Nancy giggles.
“Hit some of Jonathan’s weed.”
There are fugitive glares being exchanged, some noises of encouragement as well as surprise, but Nancy simply rolls her eyes, smiling all the while. Jonathan obeys, handing her the earthy-smelling cigarette, and Nancy completes her dare under the group’s congratulatory claps. Seconds later, she spins the bottle, which lands on you.
“Truth,” you immediately say.
Some roll their eyes and make funny faces at you.
“Guys, it’s her choice,” Nancy reminds them, then turns back to you. “Let’s see… oh, I got it! Okay. What’s one thing you would do if you knew there were no consequences?”
“Remember, full honesty,” Jonathan tells you.
“Let it all out. This is a safe space,” Steve adds.
You hesitate, gulping. You don’t look to your left where you know for a fact Eddie is staring at you. You cannot bring yourself to do that, not when you have to answer such a question. A seemingly innocent question, but with a lot more weight than the rest of the group can imagine.
“I guess… I would confess some things to someone without the fear of screwing things up or… any other consequences.”
“Ooh, what things?” Jonathan asks.
“And to whom?” Eddie jumps in.
This time you do look at him, eyes wide and fearful. You feel your heart going at the speed of light and you could faint on the spot if it wasn’t for the beer in your hand. You chug some more, then find courage to continue.
“No follow up questions,” you say.
Clearly some wanted to ask some more, but refrained themselves from doing so. You continue the game, enjoying it alongside your friends and sharing their laughter.
That is, until the bottle lands on Eddie and Steve.
“Don’t bother asking, Harrington, give me a good dare.”
“Alright, have it your way. I dare you… to kiss the most attractive person here. And notice that I charitably said person because… let’s be real here.”
He points to his own hair, to which the girls stifle chuckles.
“You really let the nickname ‘The Hair’ Harrington get to you,” Robin says.
“It is nice hair though,” Jonathan comments casually.
“Prettiest person, huh?” Eddie asks.
“Yep. Whoever you think is the most attractive here.”
You’re definitely not in the mood to see Eddie lock lips with anyone, but you can’t exactly comment out loud against it, so you suck it up. You purse your lips in anticipation, your brows furrowed in confusion as the group’s eyes land on you.
Within the following two seconds, you notice why.
Eddie’s face is in such close proximity to yours, you might faint. You hold your breath, eyes wide staring into his.
That’s one of the best things about Eddie: his eyes. His whole persona might be exuberant and lively, but his eyes are soft and soothing.
“Can I?” he checks with you.
Oh God, being so considerate and respectful too? You might explode soon.
“What—uh—are you sure?” you ask, utterly dumbfounded.
“It’s just a kiss, right?”
Wrong.
No, it’s not just a kiss. It’s the kiss.
It’s the kiss you’ve been dreaming about for who knows how long, and, by the looks of it, it’s about to happen in a less than ideal situation.
“It’s just a kiss, c’mon!” Steve encourages you.
You doubt you’ve ever had Eddie so close to you and it’s making you dizzy. All you can smell are remnants of Jonathan’s joint and Eddie’s store-bought cologne. The aftertaste of beer in your mouth is making you feel oddly self-conscious, but you doubt he would notice. Or would he? He drank beer too, he wouldn’t notice. What if he does and he hates it on a girl’s breath?
Oohh boy, you’re spiraling. This can’t be good.
“Let’s get this over with then,” you smile, hoping to disguise your nerves.
Eddie smirks—smirks!—and your heart threatens to jump out of your chest completely. The buildup is filled with wild sensations you haven’t felt before individually, let alone all at once. Your whole body is heated up, and nothing happened yet.
But then, Eddie cups your cheek and pulls your face closer to his, and you swear you go into cardiac arrest.
His lips are impossibly soft, just as you had imagined; they press gently against yours at first, forming a tender, caring kiss. You feel somewhat eased—for a split second.
Everyone’s cheers are blocked out when the kiss deepens. Any sound, any image, they all fade. All you can feel is Eddie’s presence around you, on you, and the desire to have so much more is sparked in an instant.
Both his hands hold your cheeks as your mouth opens to allow him more access, and Eddie gladly uses the moment to his advantage. He kisses you hungrily now, almost eating you alive with just his lips. It takes every ounce of self-control you have to not moan in his mouth because good lord, this is heavenly.
“Alright, we got it, dare completed!”
Steve’s voice reaches your ears and you break things off, though it does not come with ease. Surprisingly enough, once that first touch was initiated, you both realize how comfortable and warm it feels to be with each other.
Lips swollen and pupils dilated, you stare at Eddie with shock, not quite sure what to say. You hear vague complaints in the background regarding the “rating of the dare” and that the game should continue, but your blood boils in your veins and your mind is about to explode at the thought that Eddie chose to kiss you. Out of everyone in that room, Eddie chose you.
To Eddie, you are the most attractive person in that room. You wrestle to come to terms with this knowledge.
“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Nancy tries to smooth things over.
“Not so bad? They were swallowing each other,” Steve makes a face.
“Don’t be jealous cause you didn’t get picked,” Robin scolds him.
You catch her eyes, seemingly encouraging you. The kiss clearly confirmed Robin’s theories, and now it might as well just be out in the open.
Eddie calls out your name, but you excuse yourself and stand up, rushing to the first room you can find.
You don’t know whose bedroom it is, but you don’t care. You shut the door behind you and close your eyes, trying to breathe. You seldom allow yourself to think of a potential kiss with Eddie or wonder how good of a kisser he might be, but that kiss just made it so much worse.
Now you have confirmation that he is, in fact, a great kisser. And just how the hell are you supposed to live with this knowledge and carry on with your life as usual?
But Eddie chose to kiss you. He thinks you are the most attractive person there.
It must mean something, right?
There’s a knock on the door, startling you. Your body is pressed up against the door and you can feel the knock getting insistent. Then, you hear Eddie’s calm voice calling you out.
“Are you okay? Can I come in?”
“Sorry that I basically ran away.”
“Nothing to worry about. Can we at least talk about it?”
You falter, though you crave to see him. Wild, you think. You literally saw him a few seconds ago, and now you actually miss him like you haven’t seen him in days.
You stand back and open the door, allowing Eddie in. His face radiates an apologetic expression, and you hate to think you could be the cause of that.
“I didn’t run away because of you,” you say. “It’s not because of you.”
“Was it the kiss? Was it not—?”
“No, no! No, the kiss was… it was…”
Your tongue glazes over your bottom lip, the little action catching Eddie’s attention. He doesn’t do anything to hide the fact that he is blatantly staring at your lips, and it makes you gulp again.
“I really liked it,” you finally say.
“Good. Good. Cause I thought—you know, maybe you hated it—“
“Hated it? Are you serious?”
Hands in his back pockets, Eddie shrugs and stares at you, almost begging for an explanation of some sort.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do. It was one hell of a kiss, and… otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed you back like that because I’ve been thinking about it for so long and—“
Eddie raises his brows, approaching you with a little more confidence than before.
“You thought about us kissing?” he asks rather coyly.
And it’s quite the image for sore eyes.
“Yeah,” you admit rather embarrassed, but also eased.
“And?”
You chuckle. “You got nothing to worry about. You’re a great kisser, Eddie Munson.”
He makes a fist, excitedly jumping in the air for a while, and you giggle some more.
“I wouldn’t worry about it either if I were you,” he reassures you.
“Oh. Thanks!”
“And uh… you’re not the only one who’s thought about that.”
That wipes your smile off your face pretty fast, replacing it with shock.
“Really?” you ask.
He nods so cutely you almost tremble. Instead, you clear your throat and try to come to terms with that knowledge as well.
God, anything else and you’re gonna get a migraine.
“I thought about… plenty of things, actually,” Eddie continues.
“Like what?”
He comes closer to you, licking his lips as he stares at yours.
“This is a conversation after two, three beers,” he teases.
“Or… this is a conversation we can have after one beer, in an empty bedroom.”
You both raise your eyebrows, unsure as to where your soaring confidence rose from, but embracing it nonetheless.
“I thought about kissing you a lot,” Eddie makes it a speech. “Everywhere, all over your body. All of the sounds you’d make…”
“Oh.”
Yeah, you weren’t prepared to hear that. It made you blush in all kinds of shades of red and set your body on fire.
“In all my scenarios, you sound damn good,” he finishes, one hand barely touching the hem of your shirt, as if testing the water.
“That’s—just as well.”
“And why is that?”
“Cause you sound damn good in my scenarios too.”
He can’t take it anymore; the more he stares at you, talking about making out and touching and sounds… he nearly gets hard in an instant.
This time around, he doesn’t hesitate in pulling you in. He’s making known the fact that he does, indeed, want you, and you crumble on the spot. You feel your back hitting the door as Eddie pushes his body into yours, nearly grinding into you.
And you don’t hold back your desire either. You moan in his mouth, and it drives him insane with lust. It’s maddening, really, and, just like that, he’s hard as fuck.
He did dream about this moment for far too long. It’s well-earned and well-deserved. It’s more than he could’ve thought of, making him drunk on your presence alone.
His hands roam on your waist, accidentally pulling up your shirt, but when your hand pulls his over your now bare back, Eddie groans. He groans relentlessly, almost unable to stop. You’re both like randy teenagers, but neither of you cares.
“We should—go back—at some point,” you struggle to get out as Eddie’s lips are nibbling on your neck.
“Agreed.”
You feel him smile against your pulse and, oh God, you feel your heart race in between your legs. It’s downright debilitating, and yet you cannot stop for the life of you.
“Hey guys, is everything alright in there?”
Robin’s concerned voice from outside the door catches you both off guard, and Eddie barely manages to lift his head from the crook of your neck.
“All good, just talking!” he shouts. “Be right outside!”
You back away, straightening your shirt. “Bit too loud, Munson.”
“What was I supposed to do, whisper?”
You throw him an unimpressed gaze, and Eddie quickly pecks your lips, taking your hands into his.
“I guess we should go back out there, huh?” he checks.
“Yeah. Probably not the best idea to take things further in Steve’s house.”
“Probably not. Also because I’m pretty sure this is his parents’ bedroom.”
You look around, slightly disturbed.
“Let’s get out of here,” you say.
But Eddie doesn’t follow you yet.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” he seemingly excuses himself.
You frown. “What’s wrong?”
Eddie clears his throat, a suggestive look being thrown at you. Then you get it.
“Oh! Right. Sorry.”
It’s not really an apology when you think about the fact that you managed to get him so worked up in such a short amount of time. If anything, it feels flattering.
“Hey, what was that thing you said before, confessing stuff without consequences? Since we’re… waiting.”
You stifle a chuckle, unwilling to make him feel any more uncomfortable.
“I thought it was pretty obvious by now,” you smile shyly.
“Well, yeah, but I think I’d like to hear it.”
Your nerves are becoming tougher to handle, especially when you lock eyes and see that devilish sparkle in Eddie’s that gets you going in a second.
“Okay, here it is. I really like you a lot, Eddie Munson. I think you’re amazing.”
He smiles wickedly, reaching for your wrist as he pulls you closer to him. You can’t help but fall into his lap. You cup his cheeks, kissing him selfishly, thus earning a loud groan from his side, right into your cavities.
His hands travel up your back, eager to feel and knead and mold in between his fingers, but he pulls away.
“You can’t do this to me, sweetheart,” he fake-complains.
“I mean… I can, but we should go back out there.”
“If you keep doing this, I might reconsider and ask you to lock that door cause I won’t give a crap anymore about what those guys think.”
You bite on your lower lip, awfully tempted by the visual. He’s so goddamn adorable and lustful at the same time, you could eat him up.
Maybe some other time.
“I wanna do things the right way, you know?” he says. “This, you and me. So if you’d want to go out for a bite or something…”
“I’d really like that.”
Eddie smiles so wide, it could light up the whole room.
“But no making out like this,” he protests. “It’s too much to handle.”
“Yeah, I can see it has quite the effect on you.”
He chuckles, unable to take his eyes away from you. You really are the most attractive person he’d ever seen. Warm and loving and funny… all good reasons why he’s been in love with you for years.
But that’s something to share with you another time.
next
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson smut#joseph quinn#joseph quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn fic
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adrenaline junkie
r loves to do dangerous things, relishing in the thrill, the rush of ecstasy that rushes through her. until her overprotective teammates find out about some of her hobbies. and then others find out. it doesn't go great.
disclaimer- as has been established, i do not have BDE, so i haven't ever ridden a motorcycle. or done like most of the things r does in this.
At first, it was only small things that the girls noticed. How you would climb up on stuff and jump off, prompting intense scoldings from your captains and the coaches. If this was any indication as to how they'd act if they learned about your... more intense hobbies, you were pretty determined not to let them find out.
There were different rules for professional athletes than people who's jobs didn't rely on their ability to walk. While it wasn't in your contract, you weren't supposed to do anything physically dangerous. No motorcycles, no skydiving, no cliff jumping, no zip lining, no swimming with sharks. It was all very discouraged.
You were an adult, though, a whole entire individual who could safely decide to do dangerous things for fun. Your teammates still thought of you as a kid, Alexia and Lucy especially. And sure, you were young, but completely capable of making rational decisions for yourself.
You'd had a couple close calls; as big of a city Barcelona was, your teammates all lived near you, and it only made sense that it was only a matter of time before you were caught. Your motorcycle was parked in the building's parking lot, but none of your teammates knew that it was yours when they came over. At least, not at first.
-----
You'd decided to use your bike one morning to go grab coffee. The place was too far to walk, but it was a nice day, and you wanted to enjoy the fresh air. It was a few days into the holiday break, so you knew that a lot of your teammates would be out of Barcelona, at home with their families. This is why you didn't worry about going to the coffee shop that a lot of your teammates frequented. Which would turn out to be a mistake.
You'd had to circle the block the coffee shop was on before you could get a spot right in front. You pulled in, turning the engine off and taking off your helmet, leaving your jacket on. When you turned your attention to the coffee shop, or rather the little tables outside of it, you froze.
There, at one of the little tables with their coffees, sat Ingrid and Frido, jaws practically on the floor as they stared at you. Deciding to play it cool, hoping that if you acted like you hadn't done anything wrong, they'd be alright about it, you walked over to their table.
"Hey guys! I didn't know either of you were still in town." Ingrid was supposed to take Mapi with her to Norway, (Mapi had been complaining about the upcoming cold weather for weeks, but every time she even mentioned spending Christmas with Ingrid's family, she got this disgusting, love sick look on her face). Frido was also supposed to head home to Sweden.
Their only response was to gawk at you, stunned into silence.
"Guys?" You said, playfully waving a hand in front of their faces. This seemed to bring them out of their temporary stress-induced coma. Ingrid stood up, almost knocking the whole table over in the process.
"Are you CRAZY?" She shouted, hands flapping in the air as she spoke, gesturing wildly. Frido's mouth was opening and closing, as if she had so many things to yell, she couldn't settle on one.
"About...?" You said, looking between her and Frido, pretending that you didn't know very well what they were upset about.
"YOU KNOW WHAT ABOUT!" Ingrid yelled, pointing a finger insistently behind you.
"Ingrid, you're kind of making a scene." You mumbled, looking out of the corner of your eye at the pedestrians nearby staring at the Norwegian. She only scoffed in response, hands on her hips, waiting for you to explain yourself.
"You know who is going to make a scene? Alexia, when she finds out her perfect, precious, protégée rides motorcycles in her free time." Frido said finally. Your cool demeanor vanished.
"No, no, Frido you cannot tell her, she would kill me. Kill me dead. And if she didn't Lucy would. Actually, I'm pretty sure half of the team would kill me. Besides Pina. And Mapi."
Ingrid lets out an indignant noise. "Sell the motorcycle and we won't tell."
"You want me... to sell it? Come on, guys, it's not even that dangerous." You try, faltering when both girls rise to their feet again.
"NOT THAT DANGEROUS?" They shout together, and you throw your hands in the air, cutting them off before their lecture can really begin.
"Alright, alright, I'll sell it. You guys are boring. And you better not tell anyone about this. No one. Not even Mapi." You said, making them promise they wouldn't speak a word of it.
They insisted on driving home with you, following your bike in Ingrid's car. They honked whenever anyone came even close to you, and every time you caught a glimpse of them through their windows, Frido was staring at you like a cop tailing a murder suspect. At one point, you were going maybe 5 over the speed limit, and Frido stuck her head out the window, instructing you to slow down immediately.
If it wasn't so incredibly annoying, it probably would have been funny.
You parked the bike elsewhere, now, in case either of the Nordic girls decided to check and make sure the motorcycle was really gone.
-----
Mapi must have cracked Ingrid, you're sure of it. And you knew, too, that she only told Alexia on you because she was jealous that you had a motorcycle and she didn't. Of course, Ingrid thought you'd gotten rid of it. You hadn't. And Alexia, being Alexia, was suspicious enough to figure out that you still owned the motorcycle. She'd come over, accompanied by Lucy and Irene, completely unannounced. You'd let her in, somewhat confused. She snooped around without telling you what she was looking for, before triumphantly holding up the keys to your bike. They were hanging on the hook where they always were, but no one had ever thought to pay attention to them before.
Alexia yelled at you like she'd never yelled before, about the dangers of riding a motorcycle, about lying to her, about not listening when the older girls had tried to keep you safe. She was going on and on, and while Irene and Lucy had started off looking like they agreed with her, they were also definitely over the lecture after a few minutes.
You were in hot water with Alexia as soon as the words left your mouth; you weren't stupid, you knew how she would react to what you had just said, but you had always been hotheaded and her hovering and nagging had gotten to you today.
"You don't need to know about everything in my life, Alexia! I've gone skydiving, and I haven't died. I swam with sharks, and didn't die. Cliff jumping? Zip lining? Bungee jumping? Drag racing? I have done all of that, all since I've been with this team, and I am completely fine. You aren't my mother, and I don't need you to act like you are. I don't need your opinion on everything I do, I don't need you watching my every move. I can do what I want." You snapped. Alexia took a step back from where she'd been standing, a look of hurt flashing across her face.
"Y/n, you're way out of line," Lucy said, looking angry again. Irene nodded her head in agreement.
"No, no. She's right. I'm not her mother. She can do what she wants." Alexia said softly. She dropped the keys onto the counter, and walked out your door without another word.
You were flooded with guilt. Alexia had been more of a parent figure than anyone else in your life had ever bothered to be. You were grateful for it, you really were. She was part of the reason you were the person you were today, having spent the last of your teenage years on the team with her. She'd always watched out for you, always took the time to make sure you were okay. She'd expressed to you, before, her worry that she was overstepping, doing more than you wanted her to do. You'd thrown that right back in her face.
"You need to apologize. That wasn't fair of you." Irene said coldly.
"I just-"
"-No. You and I both know everything that Alexia has done for you, gone out of her way to do for you. She loves and cares about you, obviously you doing stupid and dangerous things is going to bother her." Irene's voice was deadly serious, arms crossed over her chest as she stared you down.
"When you moved here from England, do you know that Alexia called Leah, and talked to her for hours trying to get to know you, and make the transition as easy as possible?" Lucy cut in.
"When you got that concussion last season and you were in the hospital, she sat awake, all night, next to your bed, too worried to rest." Irene continued.
"She has an England shirt with your name on it that she wears to watch you play, did you know that? No one is allowed to see her in it, but she doesn't miss any of your games for England. Not one."
"Your first Christmas here, she went all out with Christmas decorations. You were living with her then, and she wanted the day to be special, even if it wasn't the way she normally did it."
They were switching off, seemingly having endless examples of all the things Alexia had done for you. You were blinking, hard, memories of how easy Alexia had made everything for you flashing through your mind. Lucy spoke more gently.
"You were 16 when you got here, y/n. She has done more for you than anyone. You're her kid whether you like it or not. It doesn't matter that you're 19 now, it doesn't matter that you don't live with her anymore."
"She deserves better than you lying to her about your dangerous hobbies, and she deserves better than how you just treated her. Fix it." Irene finished, tone still just as cold as it had been. She was, herself, rather protective of Alexia, you knew. Her reaction was completely warranted, you knew that too.
Irene turned then too, walking out your door and shutting it behind her. Only Lucy remained, staring at you critically.
"I didn't mean to hurt her feelings." You said weakly.
"I know. You did, though."
"I don't know why I said any of that, I was just annoyed."
"You're young, it's a young person thing to not think before you speak. You do it all the time, normally it doesn't end as poorly as this did." Lucy tried to joke, hating the sad frown on your face, even if you probably deserved it. You just shook your head, looking up at her as a single tear fell down your cheek.
"What do I do, Luce?"
"Give it a couple hours, and then go apologize. And sell the damn motorcycle. Or I'll remove the engine or something." At this, you did smile, if only weakly. "C'mere," she said gruffly, pulling you into a tight hug. "It'll be fine, kid. Alexia would forgive you for anything."
You hoped she was right.
-----
You stood at Alexia's door, about a half hour later. You'd meant to wait as long as Lucy had said, but you couldn't do it. You were fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for her to answer, not really sure what would greet you.
You'd seen Alexia mad, obviously. And you'd seen her sad, though less often. But you'd never seen her sad because of something you'd done. It made you feel sick, that you'd repaid her years of kindness with rude comments that completely disregarded how much she had done for you, because you were slightly annoyed with her behavior. If she was sad, you weren't sure how you could fix it.
When she answered the door, you were stunned, stunned, to see Alexia's eyes slightly red and puffy, like she'd been crying.
"Hola pequeña," she said roughly, wiping at her face as if to rid it of the evidence as to how upset she was.
"Can I come in?" You asked.
"Of course," she said, stepping to the side immediately to let you in. She led you to the living room, and you both took seats on the couch. The Alexia sitting next to you was not one you were used to seeing; you could tell how hurt she was by what you said. You could also tell she was trying to pretend she wasn't hurt, whether because she didn't want to make you feel bad, or because she was embarrassed at the obvious and uncharacteristic display of emotion. You chewed on your lip for a minute, trying to figure out how to apologize.
"Ale, I'm so sorry," you began.
"It's fine," she said, brushing your apology off. She tried to smile at you, but it was weak, and it didn't reach her eyes. It was going to be hard for you to get out what you needed to say, you knew. You weren't good at expressing your emotions, and you'd never really admitted to Alexia what an important role she had played in your life. You tried to show her through actions, but your words earlier had undone anything you'd accomplished in terms of letting her know how much you appreciated her.
"No, it's not fine. I was completely unfair to you. I didn't mean what I said, not at all. I... you've been... for me..." You trailed off, words getting jumbled. "I don't know why this is so hard for me to say."
"It's alright, pequeña, I get it," Alexia said, and she did sound less upset, like she knew what you were trying to say.
"I'm not used to having people in my life that care. I mean, I am now, because I have you and the team, but it still surprises me sometimes when I do something, and people... people care about what happens to me. You've always cared, though. Even when I was an angsty 16 year old with an attitude problem, and I didn't want you to care, you did anyway."
You take a big breath, trying to steady your voice. "You've been more of a parent to me than anyone. I value your opinion, I really appreciate that you care enough to be mad at me when I do something stupid. I'm sorry I said otherwise, because that wasn't true. I was just frustrated, but you deserve better than that. I'm really sorry about what I said, and I'm sorry that I don't express how much I appreciate everything you've done for me."
You take a peak at Alexia once you've finished talking, and find her looking out the window, jaw set tightly. At first, you think she's upset about something that you said. You see her lip wobble slightly, though, before she bites down on it, and realize what's actually going on. Your captain schools her features, before turning to you.
"Thank you for apologizing. I... I was hurt by what you said. I can't help but worry about you, and I know I probably go overboard with it sometimes, but I look at you and see the scared 16 year old you were when you got here, and all I want to do is protect you."
Alexia shuffled closer to you on the couch. "And I know you appreciate me, pequeña. You might not say it, but you show it. You don't need to thank me for caring about you, though. You shouldn't ever feel like you have to thank anyone for that. You deserve love, pequeña, I hope you know that."
You fall somewhat unsteadily into her arms, which wrap around you in a comforting embrace. You blink your tears away, wondering how your apology to Alexia turned into her comforting you, but that was the magic of Alexia Putellas.
"Y/n?” She says, chin resting on top of your head.
"Yeah?"
"Did you really do all those things you said you did?" She sounds slightly ill at the idea, and you wince, wishing you hadn't overshared all of those details.
"Yeah," you answer meekly.
"Dios mio," she mumbles.
"I'll sell the motorcycle," you say placatingly. Alexia lets out a short laugh at that, pulling back from you to look you in the eye.
"I know you will. You aren't ever riding that thing again."
"Well..." You said, unable to stop yourself from glancing towards where you had parked said motorcycle.
"You did not... drive it here... to apologize to me..." Alexia choked out, baffled.
"I did," she groans in exasperation. "But only because I'm taking it back to the dealership right after this. I called, they're gonna buy it back off me." You smile sheepishly at her.
She glares at you. "You better be telling the truth."
"I am, Ale, I promise." You rise, heading back towards the door.
"Good. Off you go, then. Get rid of that deathtrap. And wear your helmet. And drive under the speed limit. And stick to side streets, not busy ones. And-"
"-Alexia, I've been riding it for a year, I'll be fine." You say, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. The blonde looks genuinely anxious at the idea of you driving off on it. "I promise, the dealership isn't far from here, and I'll text you once I'm back home."
She nods, looking at the motorcycle parked outside with an expression full of disdain. "Drive safe," she says finally, and you promise that you will.
-----
You did drive safe. It wasn't your fault that someone ran a red light, or that it just happened to occur right as you were in the middle of the intersection. It wasn't your fault that the car practically t-boned you, the last minute braking doing very little to ease the impact. It wasn't your fault that you were thrown off the bike, sliding and rolling painfully along the pavement until you came to a stop several feet away.
It wasn't your fault.
Still, as you looked up at the sky, feeling yourself begin to lose consciousness, you knew that the fact that it wasn't your fault would not get you out of trouble with Alexia. She couldn't kill you if you were already dead, though, you thought. That was horrifying, and you jerked your eyes back open, trying to stay awake. It was no use, though, and your eyes closed against your will, head rolling weakly to the side on the concrete as spots flooded your vision, until everything around you was dark and quiet.
-----
HA.
part 2 tomorrow :)
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You're sitting with your friend Sam at a coffee shop, catching up. She's telling you about an instagram ad she keeps getting for some audiobook streaming service. "It's just crazy," she says, "because I was just telling Lucille I wanted to start reading more books but I never have the time, and then it's like instantly I'm getting these ads all the time."
"So what," you say over your steaming mug, "you think they're listening to you?"
Sam shakes her head. "Honestly I think it's almost scarier than that. They have so much information about us, they don't even need to listen to our conversations. They just know, based on everything they've gathered about me, that I'm probably someone who wants to listen to audiobooks."
"Well they can't be that smart," you say. "Because the only ads I've been getting lately are for something called Slut Cream."
Sam raises an eyebrow. "You must know I'm going to need more details."
You take out your phone and find an ad to show her. It's not difficult; literally all of the ads you see on instagram are like this. They're even showing up in other places now, on webpages you visit or apps you use. This one is one you've seen before: a beautiful woman in a crop top that just barely covers her nipples is proudly displaying a squeeze tube of the kind you'd buy sunscreen or toothpaste in. The caption says, "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle! Step up your slut game with Slut Cream! Shop Now"
"I don't even know what slut cream is," you say. "All you get when you look it up is a bunch of porn."
"Well, obviously it's a way to step up your slut game," says Sam sagely. "What does it say on the website?"
"Oh, I'm not clicking the link," you say. "I don't want to encourage them! What I want to know is why suddenly this ad is all I can seem to see!"
Sam shoots you a wink. "Maybe you're just a slut. These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."'
What neither of you know is that it's actually quite easy to buy online ad space, and they let you get pretty specific with your intended audience.
I live in the next apartment over from you. I've been watching you for a long time, studying you, listening to you through our shared wall. We've talked a few times, some terse conversation at the mailboxes or in the hall, which is how I knew enough about you to place those ads, with audience parameters so specific that probably only you and about five other people would see them. I had fun making them; hiring the model to do the photoshoot, dusting off the skills I picked up in that college graphic design course, creating a website for this fake business (though I'm disappointed you still haven't clicked through to see it). If you actually tried to buy slut cream, the website would tell you we're currently closed due to high traffic, and to check back later. Nowhere on the website does it explain what slut cream is.
A number of strange things happen to you over the course of the following day. On your lunch break you walk down the block to the deli by your office. You're in here every weekday, but today the energy here is different. People are staring you, side-eyeing you, having whispered conversations that stop abruptly when you get too close. As you're walking back to work, an old woman spits on the ground as you pass, you'd swear you heard the word "whore!" hissed under her breath. You wonder if you should say something, stand up for yourself, but she's elderly, probably confused, and you decide to be the bigger person.
In the hours after lunch, you're propositioned by no less than seven of your male coworkers. You've had to refuse a few invitations to dinner in your time, but seven in a day is completely out of the ordinary, and the things these men are offering to do to you go way outside the bounds of first date stuff. One guy tells you the conference room is empty, if you want to go for a quick fuck; another guy tells you he hasn't cum in a month, and if you sucked his cock he'd pump so much cum down your throat that you wouldn't need to eat dinner. Your boss even tells you he and his wife are looking for a third and he thought of you first, like he's offering you a big promotion. The strangest thing is that all of these men seem genuinely surprised when you turn them down. Like this sort of thing usually works with girls. One guy even says, "sorry, I was just trying to help."
It was pretty easy to hire actors for the deli and the street. You go to the same place every day, so I knew where they'd have to go and roughly when they'd need to be there. The harder part was getting your coworkers to play along, especially because I was picky about getting people who could sell the act. For a few of them all it took was money. A few of them I had to blackmail. For your boss I had to call in a favor, get his boss to threaten his job. He protested, but I think it made his cock hard, thinking about fucking you alongside his wife.
I keep this up for a few weeks. Anywhere you go I have people watching you, talking about you behind your back. I have people approaching you on the train, at the park, in restaurants, offering to fuck you like they're doing you a favor. You stay firm in your refusal—I wouldn't have expected any less from you—but I can tell it's beginning to eat at you. I watch you try to figure out what you're doing that seems to give all these people the wrong idea about you; you start to dress more modestly, talk less, even walk a little less confidently. But none of this will change anything. All it will do is make you feel more repressed.
After a month, I decide it's time to make my move. I could probably wait longer, but the anticipation is getting too much for me, and besides, you're beginning to get a little wild around the eyes. I'd hate to break you before I've had my fun. One evening, when I know you're home, I unlock your apartment with the duplicate key I had made two months ago. You're in the kitchen, washing dishes with headphones on; you didn't hear me come in. I leave the door open as I approach you, admiring the way you shake your ass to whatever it is you're listening to. I get right up behind you and stay there for a moment, lavishing in your innocence, feeling my cock strain at my belt as I imagine taking it away from you. Then I reach around front of you with both arms and plunge my hand into your panties
You shout in shock, fight back, try to push me off as the headphones fall off your head. But I've got you pinned against the counter, my full body weight against you, one hand down your pants, the other groping your breasts. Once you realize that fighting won't help, you stop struggling and ask me what I want. "Please," you say. Just hearing that quiver in your voice almost makes me delirious with lust. "Please, let me go. I don't want this, please."
I bury my face in your neck, kissing and breathing you in. You smell incredible, like fear and sweat and sex. I bring my lips up to your ear, let them brush against you as I speak. "Of course you want this, baby. You've been trying so hard to hide it, but you don't have to hide with me. Look, you left the door open for me." I let you turn your head enough to see the door hanging open just as my fingers find your clit. I'm rubbing you gently, tenderly, just the way I've watched you touch yourself through the webcam I have in your room. My other hand is under your shirt now and I'm squeezing your breast, rolling your nipple between my fingers, feeling it slowly grow full and erect. You try to stifle a soft moan and I kiss your neck again. "It's okay, baby. You don't have to be ashamed. It's okay to want to feel good. Let me make you feel good."
You clutch your face in your hands and let out a cry of frustration and humiliation and agony and pleasure. You barely know me; I'm the guy next door who sometimes looks at you a little too long. The guy you speed up to avoid in the hall. But that feeling radiating from you clit... You think how exhausting it's been, doing everything you could think of to change people's perception of you, get them to stop looking at you as a slut, how none of it has done you any good anyway. You wonder if you'd have had more fun fucking Jim in the conference room, or swallowing Dylan's cum, or having a threesome with your boss and his wife. And that throbbing in your clit, the agonizing pleasure...You remember that beautiful woman in the ad: "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle!" You think about how happy she looked, how fulfilled. You remember Sam's words: "These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."
It does feel good, doesn't it? To let me touch you, pleasure you, to let go of this act you've been holding on to. Isn't it okay to want to feel good? Why did you ever let anyone make you ashamed of that? You try out another moan, letting the pleasure well up through your chest and out your mouth. It feels good, so you try another, and another, and then you're leaning back into me, grinding up against me, delighting in the feeling of my hard cock against your ass.
"Good," I say. "You're letting go of those silly hang-ups. Now we can have our real fun." My hands still around you, controlling you, I half lead-half carry your trembling body to the bedroom. I throw you on the bed, face up so I can get a good look at your eyes, see what I've done to your mind. Those same eyes that have avoided me in the hall so many times now gaze hungrily up at me, wanting me, needing me.
Who am I do decline?
I pull off your pants and panties as a single unit, letting you take care of your shirt for yourself. I kick of my own bottoms, letting my throbbing cock slap against your leg as it springs from its confinement. Don't think I don't notice the way your whole body shivers when it touches you. I lift your legs and push your knees up towards your ears; you're remarkably flexible. It must be all that yoga I've watched you do at the place downtown. I've greatly enjoyed your visits to that place, so it's nice to see they weren't in vain.
You're afraid of me, all of a sudden. Maybe some part of you is seeing sense, realizing you'd have to be crazy to let a guy like me come into your home and fuck you like this. But what was the alternative? Have me rape you? Let me tell you, darling: I would have raped you. You feel the head of my cock gliding over your skin, exploring your inner thighs and pubic area, and tremble at my touch. I want this, you tell yourself. This is what a slut like me needs.
All the same, you cry a little bit when I penetrate you. It's not because it hurts—it does hurt a bit, but you're wet enough, and it's not entirely a bad pain. It's not because you're afraid—well, maybe in part, but that's not the core of it. You cry because you're finally letting go. Letting go of the person you used to be, or thought you were. It's the relief of knowing you don't have to pretend anymore, wrapped up with the mourning you feel when you lose a potential version of yourself. I lean across you as my cock fills you up, and tenderly, I kiss away your tears. "Hush, my darling. I'm here. I will always be here. I will love you despite what you are, when everyone else turns away in disgust."
My weight on you feels good, comforting. The way I press down on your legs, stretching you out, driving my cock so deep inside you that it brushes your cervix. It hurts a little, but is that any better than you deserve? Could a slut like you really expect to find better than this? Better than unconditional love and a desire to give you the pleasure you need?
I'm speeding up now, my face something like an animal, furious and insistent as I gaze down at you. There's darkness behind my eyes, you think, something cold and cruel. You thank God I'm on your side. My hips are like a hammer on your pelvis now, and with each thrust you feel my cock bulging inside you, throbbing and pulsating with anticipation. When I finally plant my seed in you, groaning and growling and pressing you further into the bed, you find there's something comforting about the warmth of my cum inside you. Maybe my seed will take root, make you swell up with me, make you mine. As I roll off you, huffing and panting, the tears begin to stream down your face again, this time from joy.
What did a slut like you ever do to deserve someone who loves you like I do?
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I feel like we don't talk enough about how Gaz is also a victim of Membrane's neglect and how that affects her sibling rivalry with Dib.
Like, I think because Dib is the deuteragonist of the show and Gaz is a supporting character it's easier to focus on analyzing him and everything going on in his life that influences his maladjusted behavior. But not a lot of people talk as much about why Gaz is the way she is. Why are her main emotions apathy and anger? Why is she the only other kid at skool besides Dib and Zim with no friends to hang out with at lunch or recess? Why are her revenges against Dib over things like cereal and pizza so over-the-top? Why does she purposefully try to destroy all human life and then get mad when it doesn't work?
Some of Gaz's behaviors have a pretty clear-cut cause and effect. She and Dib don't get to spend much time with their dad, so she gets upset when Dib's actions threaten their time together. Dib is also selfish and inconsiderate of Gaz, frequently stealing her food or talking her ear off about stuff she doesn't care about and expecting her to take an interest while never asking about her hobbies.
But I think some of her hostility toward Dib and general sour attitude can also be explained by Membrane's unequal treatment.
I've seen elsewhere that some people think Membrane favors Gaz because she's his "normal" child. He actually respects her gaming hobby and doesn't treat it like a phase she needs to grow out of. He doesn't talk down to her or try to push her into giving up something she loves in order to win his approval. Where Dib is constantly arguing with his dad about the legitimacy of his version of science, he and Gaz seem to have an easy rapport free of that kind of tension.
But is Membrane's behavior toward Gaz really a sign of favoritism, or just a different form of neglect?
The main conflict between Dib and Membrane stems from Membrane wanting Dib to be his successor. In Chickenfoot he specifically calls Dib "the future of the Membrane Empire", against Dib's wishes. In Mopiness of Doom, he and Dib finally bond when Dib decides to temporarily give up paranormal science and assist him with "real science". And supposedly, part of Eric Trueheart's clone Dib concept was that Membrane engineered Dib specifically to carry on his legacy.
But all of this begs the question, where does Gaz fit into Membrane's grand designs? Is she just the spare? She's just as smart, if not smarter than Dib, but we never see any indication that Membrane's trying to push her toward a career in science the way he is with Dib. It's one thing for him to not be bothered about her gaming hobby because it's not "disreputable", but there's no indication that Gaz has anymore interest in becoming a "real" scientist than Dib. So does Membrane just assume that since she's never shown any other ambitions she'll just fall straight down the path that's already been laid out for her, or does he just not care what she does with her life because he's only focused on living vicariously through Dib?
We don't know exactly how Membrane views his kids, but it's easy to see how a little girl might come to some pretty negative conclusions about what her status is in her father's eyes. Even if it's not true, Gaz might very well believe that he favors Dib. That despite Dib rejecting the legacy she was never considered for, despite him constantly getting into trouble and being weird and annoying and embarrassing, and putting his stupid hobbies ahead of their family, their dad doesn't give up on him as a lost cause. Even when he has another perfectly good child who mostly behaves herself and stays out of trouble, would never try to upstage him or ruin an important moment for him, who appreciates what little time they have together and would never jeopardize it by running off to play with some stupid alien, and who's just as smart and capable and not a weirdo paranormal-obsessed freak, Membrane still wants Dib to be his successor and not her.
Not only does this add more layers to her contempt for Dib, it could also explain her apathy and misanthropy. If her dad doesn't care about her, why should she care about anything? If he isn't concerned with her future, why should she concern herself with anything other than the immediate gratification of video games and pizza? Her dad and her brother both think their work is so much more important than spending quality time with her or talking about anything other than their "important work" whenever they're together. They both think they're saving the world, but they're either too blindly optimistic or too egotistical to realize that the slack-jawed idiots populating the planet are beyond salvation. But maybe if there was no humanity left for them to save, no heroic ambitions to fulfill, they'd finally treat her like someone worth paying attention too.
#invader zim#gaz#gaz membrane#professor membrane#dib#dib membrane#gaz is just as messed up as dib#her trauma just expresses itself in different ways
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hiii! Could I just say that I absolutely love your writing and they way you describe jax? I love your writing style as well. So-
Could you write a jax x reader where the reader is very sensitive and prone to crying? Like they have a super loud and bold personality, kind of like jax, so you'd think a few mean words wouldn't affect them right? Wrong. They're actually super sensitive and can cry easily. Like maybe if jax were to get into a fight with reader and maybe takes it too far?
warnings(s): Jax, insults/name calling, nondescriptive arguments, angst (I tried to balance it out with some fluff in the second half)
note(s): Jax is a noticeable ass in the first half of this, honestly Jax is his own warning
A/N: I truthfully believe that his reaction would heavily depend on whether the two of you were just two people trapped here vs in a relationship of some sort. I don't want to post him being only an asshole, so I included his response/reactions if you were his s/o as well. (Also thank you for the kind words! 💜)
As two people trapped in the digital hellscape together
It doesn’t take you long to learn Jax’s disregard for the emotions of others. His blatant disregard for Gangle’s tears and Pomni’s little panic attacks that he only eggs on are proof enough.
Jax would’ve never suspected you to be sensitive given your loud and bold personality, he’s never noticed the subtle change in your posture or behavior when you get insultingly clumped in with the rest—or if he did notice, he never said anything.
A fight with Jax is a one-sided fight, he’ll throw some backhanded question about why you were suddenly being a crybaby, an unfunny joke about how you must’ve taken Gangle’s tragedy mask when he wasn’t looking.
“Look it’s not that big of a deal, I don’t know why you’re getting all bent out of shape.”
Jax is an ass through and through, he’s not trying to gaslight you into believing you’re crying over nothing, he genuinely believes you’re making a big deal out of nothing. It’s just words.
As his s/o
Again you are aware of just what kind of person Jax is—that said you are given some leniency to his awful behavior, unlike the others you have a special place in his chest cavity
As mentioned above he never really suspected you to be sensitive, though he can sort of piece two and two together when your behavior changes or if you just up and outright walk away.
Seeing your eyes water is definitely an indicator that what was said may have offended you in some manner.
Jax isn’t good with this sort of stuff, does he approach you and ask about it? Or does he just ignore it and let you come to him?
Ah, fuck…
It’s not that he doesn’t care that he upset you, but he’s just a tad confused about why you are suddenly upset.
The whole thing gets even messier when the two of you get into a fight. To him, this “fight” isn’t a big deal, when you mention that it’s something he said callously, he’s reminded of the times you walked away seemingly upset.
It takes him a few minutes to compose his thoughts and word himself carefully enough to avoid making the situation any worse, it’s one of the rare times you’ll get him to be more genuine and serious to work this out.
Afterward, he makes the effort to remember not to say or do certain things that particularly upset you. Though it’s tough, sometimes that shit just comes out with no filter, and whoops there he goes saying the thing he told himself he wasn’t going to say with you around.
None of it is ever directly aimed at you though, he can do that much at least.
On the occasion that something minor slips he’ll apologize later on, sigh, and give you a hug. Hugs don’t fix everything but they do get you to stop crying. (This is usually only during cases where you get choked up levels of sensitivity, like, a dog in a movie died and that’s a sad kind of sensitivity.)
On the topic of crying, Jax playfully (genuine) pokes fun at you when you cry over something minuscule. He’ll tease and ask if it’s a hobby crying over the little things—again not maliciously, if anything it’s kinda cute. (You are allowed to take a smack at him if his teasing is too much, he probably deserves it.)
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Dpxdc AU: Danny can’t fix Jason’s whole…deal… and doesn’t want to answer any questions on ectoplasm but he can get Jason to the best therapist he knows! Jason mistakes Danny constantly pushing Jazz his way as an awkward little brother move to set them up romantically- which uh, isn't necessarily a bad thing? Jazz has her own vested interests.
… heads up that this got long...
Jason ran his hands through this hair, relieving them from their previous position of cradling his face in embarrassment. Why was he sitting in a nice cafe with Danny’s redhead sister and a five dollar chai latte? For all the awkward live wire feelings he had, at least she was calm and composed. How many times had this happened already?
“So… the green stuff again?” Jazz asks, taking a sip from her own stupidly expensive drink and giving him eyebrows that beg for his explanation.
“Yeah. I was trying to get your brother to explain stuff without all the science mumbo jumbo. I just, I guess that means he defers to you.” Jason sighed, and tried to not think about how pretty her eyes were as she observed him.
“Not likely. But is the search for your answers helping you cope from day to day or making you climb an impossible mountain?” Jazz asks and it makes Jason fluster.
“It’s a moving goal post, sure, but I need answers if I’m going to fix my-“
“I think it might help you to realize that people don’t need to be fixed, they just need to grow.” Jazz interrupts.
They finish their drinks in a comfortable nonchalance, the rest of their conversation doesn’t go anywhere beyond their mutual hobbies and he’s grateful for that.
Jason's been doing a lot of introspection since this all started.
——
The first time it happened was months ago.
He confronts Danny after a mission, just wanting a simple answer on whether or not Danny thought the Lazarus pit contained ectoplasm? Could ectoplasm be separated from blood? Danny looked a little uncomfortable.
“Look dude, I know you want to know more but like, having this info isn’t going to help you. You need to talk it out.” Danny sounds sad and his eyes are filed with something adjacent to pity. It riles up the pit inside him.
“Oof. See that whole reaction thing. That’s not ectoplasmic, that’s something different. C’mon follow me.” Phantom cringes as he talks to him, and then floats across the rooftops, going slow enough that Jason can keep up on his grapple.
The arrive at a modest apartment building, not too far from his territory but clearly outside of it. Danny opens a window and slides in ahead of Jason, and all of a sudden he’s seated at a kitchen table with hot chocolate and teal blue eyes peering into his soul.
“Danny, some warning next time you’re bringing a crime boss to my apartment.” Jazz sighs and its not said with any malice or sarcasm. Danny gives her a grin and a peace sign before disappearing.
“So you want to talk about it?” Jazz turns back to him and asks.
“About?” Jason’s deep voice is going through the modulator and it sounds more sinister than it should.
“Death. Dying. The afterlife. Those are the normal things Danny brings people to me for.” She blinks.
“There’s a misunderstanding, I don’t need to talk, I need answers on Ectoplasm.” He grits out.
"Hm. Well that's not my field of study, but I can tell you that however your feeling is probably a valid response towards the trauma you've faced in life. Do you think showing yourself some kindness might lessen your desire to know the knitty gritty details?"
Jason scoffs.
"Oh. You're serious. No. I don't think being kind to myself is a valid approach to dealing with an infection that's cost me a lot of family relationships." Jason rolls his eyes. The woman looks contemplative for a moment and Jason can tell that while the dim kitchen lights are doing her no favors, she's incredibly beautiful. He pockets that information and refuses to think about it.
"So...Lets take this a different direction. Do you think successful people know what they're doing or do you think successful people need help to get where they want to go?"
"Most people are dumb and trying to get by." Jason grits out.
"So, accept that you're dumb. And then get by." Jazz replies, and then sighs and leaves the room.
Jason however, is now pissed off. Who the heck was she to say that to him?
____
The next time he finds himself across the table from Jazz, he's been on a wild goose chase with Danny and lands himself in a fancy restaurant. Why the hell was she here?
"Uh, it's called self care." Jazz replies, because apparently Jason asked that out loud. But he's not going to let this lead get away from him.
He takes off his helmet, years of muscle memory make him check that his Domino mask was in place, and sits down across from her. She raises a brow and then sighs.
"You think Danny might give me answers if I hold you hostage over, what is that, some kind of gnocchi dish?"
"Mm. Probably not." Jazz says, taking a bite and pulling out her phone.
"You're just going to ignore me then?" Jason finds himself a bit flabbergasted, he was a fucking crime lord, not someone to be ignored! Like he's just- just some bad blind date!
"Uh huh. You don't want to work on your issues and it's not my job to lead a stubborn horse to water."
"The expression is that you can lead a horse to water but you can't-"
"Can't what? Or are you still going to tell me it's not a huge waste of my time to tell you that you need to accept and forgive yourself to be able to move on. Find peace. Rest." Jazz is taking bites between her last few words but her glare remains unshakeable.
Jason is about to get up and leave when a terrified waiter comes over: "A dish, as compliments from the chef. Your guest's meal as well." He's shaking as he speaks and it makes Jason feel bad.
"Thanks." He grits out.
"...Is that the lasagna?" Jazz is looking at his food curiously, and Jason pushes it forward to indicate that she can take a bite. Probably not the safest thing for a civilian to do considering people regularly try to poison Jason but, meh. He's kind of pissed off at her still.
"It's pretty good. I was debating between that and the gnocchi- Okay let's think about this differently. You want to know about the green stuff, Danny is never going to tell a mortal about it and you keep denying yourself basic self-respect. What does your support system look like?"
"You're really pushing my buttons lady-" Jason can feel the green, but after a breath and seeing her unimpressed gaze "-I have a few friends who know what my deal is, I have an older brother who claims to forgive me, and a merry band of goons that I call my henchmen."
"Henchpeople?" Jazz asks.
"I mean, sure. That's more accurate."
"What do you do for fun?" She asks.
"I take down crime syndicates-" she levels him with another glare, he wonders why its so effective on him "-I read."
"Yeah? What genres?"
"Classics." He can admit only that much.
"Nerd. Are you going to eat any of that? You really shouldn't let food waste like that when it's not even fighting back."
"I don't know why I'm even bothering to talk to you right now." Jason spoke plainly.
"I dunno either but it's easier to tolerate you without the stupid helmet speaker. Anyway, If you like to read, hopefully that means you like to see new scenarios, new plots, stuff like that. You ever think to put yourself in side-character mode and contemplate what your whole deal is bringing to the table?"
"...How so?"
"Like, if you don't think it's worth it to treat yourself well, how do the main characters feel? Or, you know, if you were a child reading your story, what would you shout at them to move forward differently?"
"... I've decided that I only read poetry." Jason grumbles, trying to deflect with humor the fact that he does have some thoughts about what she's saying. She actually laughs at his joke though- he hadn't anticipated that.
"Uh, what is the Dr. Suess line? Stop telling outlandish tales, stop turning minnows into whales? something like that."
"Dr. Suess? Really?" Jason laughs.
"Sorry Mr. Classics, I spent most of my childhood raising my brother, forgive me for not knowing any fancy poetry." She huffs but he can tell she's laughing with him still.
They get off the topic of his mental health crisis and it turns out the Lasagna isn't half bad.
----
Jason keeps chasing Danny. Danny keeps leading him to Jazz. It goes for a few rounds before the ghost kid makes a joke about Jason liking her better anyway. Jason asks what the hell Phantom means by that, but Danny just laughs and says that Jason should just ask for her number.
...This does not sit right in his gut all of a sudden. Does he think that, that Jason is only pursuing this knowledge to keep talking to Jazz?? Does Danny want him to pursue Jazz? Does HE want to pursue Jazz???
----
He spots the Replacement in the Cave's lab before he heads upstairs to grab a cookie and leave as a civilian. The reason he even looked that way being that Tim is holding glowing green vials.
"Is that-"
"Yeah. They're literally the same except for the magic mumbo jumbo that Ra's has mixed in with the pit. Leave me alone now."
"So there is a way to heal it or, or extract it or-" Jason can feel his heart racing, but his constantly-exhausted sibling is looking at him like he's grown a second head.
"Dude. You're not gunna be able to flush it out with like, a juice cleanse. You're probably better off trying to find a magic user to deal with the curses and a therapist to do the rest." Tim looks like he's trying to be patient despite being deeply, deeply vexxed.
"Therapist- why in the hell would I-"
"I mean hasn't that been Danny's entire solution for you? He's only had one strategy the whole time he's lived in Gotham." Jason rolls his eyes.
"His solution is setting me up on dates with his sister not-"
"Dates!?! His sister is THE break out psychologist, she's done more for Arkham in the last year than decades of political reform! You've been goin on- wheez- oh my god I have to call Danny-" Tim is cackling, the lazarus water all but abandoned.
"Don't you fucking dare!"
After a (from both brothers) number of punches, a few headlocks and a large portion of threats, Jason agrees that Tim can tell his boyfriend but no one else.
Kon can keep a secret right? That's why he's the favorite?
----
"So... You and Jazz huh?" Danny looks amused as he floats by- Kon could not be trusted. The entire Justice league knows. Jason might have to die again. Apparently he said as much.
"Oh buddy, it's okay! You don't have to die again! I'm sure that if she likes you, she likes you just as you are, weird little zombie boy." Danny teases, turning intangible as Jason swings a punch at him.
"What do you mean if she likes me?" Jason asks, swinging with his grapple, trying to keep up with Danny.
"You think I read her diary or something? Weirdo. You need to talk to her about it tho, it's funny and all but I'm sure she's not a fan of the JL hot goss."
"I didn't start any of this-"
"My guy. Chill. I know, but uh, I did definitely tell her about it so... Oh look! We made it all the way to her apartment! BYE!"
Jazz is standing in the window and she looks like an absolute vision. Her glare makes him want to shit his pants however, and he knows that it's going to take all of his brain cells making contact to survive this encounter.
He sits on the fire escape when he realizes that she's not moving from her spot in the window, blocking his way. Ouch.
"So let me get this straight, you thought this whole time-"
"I thought Danny was being annoying and trying to set us up! I didn't know you were a shrink!" He tries to defend himself.
"...Why should I date an idiot?" the like yourself goes unsaid but he can hear it. Jason is scrambling.
"...I can make even better lasagna than that fancy restaurant you like." is what he lands on. Jazz bursts out a laugh.
"I was just fucking with you, but honestly what a great response." She's wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
"Just fucking with me?" He grins a bit, unable to stop himself from getting excited.
"Yeah, I've been telling everyone at work that I'm dating the Red Hood for like, months now. It's been stellar for my hostage record, I haven't had an issue since I started the rumor!"
"We're dating?" Jason asks, a bit bewildered but charmed.
"I wouldn't give free therapy to just anyone! Now about that Lasagna-"
Something, something, something- they seal the deal with a kiss.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#dc crossover#dp crossover#anger management ship#hardcover ship#jasonxjazz#jazz x jason#long post#phanfic#jazz fenton
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Five in a time line where reader doesn't know him? Kind of like Klaus and what's his faces relationship???????
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Haven't written this in ages
He doesn't take it well at all
He's never loved someone the way he loves you, so when he does go into a time line where you've never even met him, he freaks out internally
Though, then he starts to think that maybe this is a good thing
He knows everything about you. Your likes, dislikes, embarrassing memories, insecurities, hobbies, etc [I think you get my point]
^ He can use this knowledge and use it to make himself seem like the perfect guy/boyfriend
While you did like him in his timeline, there were moments where he wasn't the best boyfriend, but now he has a second chance
He'll 'accidentally' run into you and see you holding a book/sketchbook/notebook/journal [Whatever your interest is] and he'll pick it up before being like "Oh, you like ____? I like it, too. I can never find anyone else who likes _____"
He knows you're shy and easily scared/introverted, so he knows this is a hit or miss, but thankfully you take it really well. You were excited someone shared the same interest as you. You start babbling about it, while asking if he wanted to get a drink or food
He's quick to take up the offer. He didn't want to waste a second with you
You do think he moves incredibly fast. You never had a guy like him show such an interest in you, so you're taken aback by his enthusiasm
He doesn't want to scare you, but he can't help himself
He does begin to scare you when you realize he knows everything about you
He doesn't tell you about his powers, until you start to avoid him in fear
You're surprised when he appears in your room, going through your drawers, before tossing you your journal/diary
"You should put a lock on that"
"How- What are you- How did you get into my room?"
He sits on your bed, ignoring you
"Hello? Five?"
He looks at you, holding one of your stuff animals in his hands. If you had known he would sneak in your room, you probably would have hidden that.
"Why have you been avoiding me?"
"What?"
He gets off the bed, stepping closer to you, until your back hits the wall. He throws the stuff animal over his shoulder, before making direct eye contact with you. "Why. Are. You. Avoiding. Me?"
"I-I-I ha-haven't be-been doing that- Avoiding you I mean-" You stutter over your words, causing him to deeply frown
"Don't patronize me. I'm not fucking stupid."
"I've been busy," You quickly lie, mentally applauding yourself for coming up with that so quickly
"Doing what?" Five humored you, deciding he'd try and let you defend yourself. Maybe you weren't avoiding him. Maybe he was being paranoid
"Things?"
He groans, looking away from you, annoyed. Why were you really avoiding him? He thought things were going great? But apparently he was wrong...
What he didn't realize is that he was coming on to strong
There was silence in the room and you were scared, because he still hasn't said anything and he's not looking at you
Finally, after what feels like eternity, he speaks
"Can I tell you something-Well, let me showing something."
You were a little confused, but he pulls you towards the bed and pushes you down. He takes a deep breath, before making direct eye contact with you.
"You can't freak out. Promise me?"
"It can't possibly be that bad-"
"I'm serious. Promise me"
''Fine. I promise."
You think he's over exaggerating and blowing this out of proportion, until he fucking disappears
You look around the room confused and then he suddenly appears behind you, holding a soda. It was the one you had downstairs that you had been waiting all day to drink
"How did you do that???"
"It's complicated," He tells you, rubbing the back of his neck
"That's so cool!"
You ask him to do his talent over and over. At first he was annoyed, but then he realizes that you were probably going to break up with him, but now you were more interested in him than you've ever been
You practically become obsessed with him
He doesn't mind, in fact he finds it hot. His timeline version of you was never obsessed with him. You were just a lovely couple, but this version of you was practically as bad as him and god he loves it so much
He wants to keep you forever
And he will. You're never getting away from him
#number 5#umbrella academy#five hargreeves#five hargreeves x reader#five x reader#yandere number 5#number 5 x reader#yandere five hargreeves x reader#yandere five hargreeves#yandere five x reader#slasher#horror#yandere the umbrella academy#the umbrella academy x reader#tua#tua x reader#yandere tua x reader#yandere tua#tua fanfic#tua five
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Bulletproof (4/?)
Part Summary: There's a new recruit who seems to have taken a liking to you. If things were normal between you and Wanda, maybe she wouldn’t feel so…threatened.
Chapter word count: 2.6k+ | Tags: Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Enemies to Lovers to Enemies, Gay disasters
Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader
Part Five | Series Masterlist
-
The newest recruit, Daisy Johnson, seems to have taken a liking to you.
At least, that's what Wanda Maximoff has observed since Daisy's inclusion earlier this week.
From the corner of her eye, Wanda constantly catches the newbie stealing glances at you during training, meals, and even debriefing sessions. It's not that she keeps tabs on you or anything, but she can't help but notice when you catch someone’s attention, especially when that someone seems to be nearly everywhere you are.
In every training session, Wanda notes Daisy choosing to partner up with you or standing close by during briefings. Even in the more relaxed moments within the compound, Daisy seems irresistibly drawn to you. Wanda doesn't miss how Daisy occasionally throws prolonged glances your way, or how she laughs a tad too enthusiastically at something you say.
And it doesn't help that you and she walk on eggshells around each other since your confession in your old cell.
Neither of you has made any attempts to talk to the other again. Not even a glance, as if pretending the other doesn't exist will make that fateful night disappear. But for Wanda, the more she tries to push it out of her mind, the more sharply it edges back in, refusing to be forgotten.
She can't help but wonder: Was it wrong of her to move like that in her sleep? And were you out of line for not waking her up right away?
And more importantly: Were you so repulsed by it that you chose a prison cell over sharing her bed?
All these questions keep swimming in her mind, to the point where she has considered going to whoever handles this sort of stuff at the compound—kind of like an HR Department, but for Avengers. Perhaps a course on understanding boundaries might help you both move past this and start anew.
But then again, addressing it means dealing with it, and right now, just avoiding the whole mess seems so much easier.
As Wanda turns a corner in one of the compound's sprawling hallways, her eyes catch sight of you and Daisy. You’re both laughing, heads thrown back, not a care in the world. Wanda's eyes involuntarily narrow at the sight, taking note of the negligible distance between you two. Daisy's hand is resting lightly on your arm, fingers dancing along the fabric of your shirt as she emphasizes a point in her story.
Wanda tries to walk past nonchalantly, yet can't seem to dispel the feelings that bubble up each time she sees you with Daisy.
It's maddening. If things were normal between you and Wanda, maybe she wouldn’t feel so…threatened.
But they aren't.
And she does.
-
Wanda's patience is tested to its limits one Saturday afternoon.
Tasked with joining Sam to whip up dinner for the team's weekly movie night, she's diligently chopping vegetables in the expansive kitchen when Daisy sidles up to her.
“Hey, uh, Wanda, right?” Daisy begins, a casual tone to her voice.
Wanda doesn’t even look up as she answers, “Yes?”
“Can I ask you something about Y/N?”
Wanda's grip on the knife tightens just a fraction, her posture stiffening. “I think it’s better if you ask Vision–he monitors all of us even more closely than the cameras we have everywhere.”
As the words leave Wanda's mouth, Vision, who’s been quietly tinkering with a device on the other side of the kitchen, looks up suddenly, his usually stoic face showing a hint of surprise.
“I assure you, I do no such thing,” he starts, his tone a touch defensive. “Monitoring everyone is not part of my programming or my personal interests.”
Daisy raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Sure, Vis. Everyone needs a hobby, right?”
Vision clears his throat, looking somewhat flustered, “It is not a 'hobby' of mine.”
Wanda can't help but smirk slightly at Vision's discomfort, her attention briefly diverted from the awkwardness with Daisy. “It's just a joke, Vision. Relax.”
He gives a curt nod, turning his attention back to the device in his hand, though he remains noticeably quiet.
Daisy chuckles lightly, but her curiosity remains unsated. “Anyway, back to Y/N?” She prompts, looking expectantly at Wanda. “Steve mentioned that if anyone on the team knows Y/N best, it'd be you, considering you two shared a room.”
Fucking Steve.
Wanda takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She finally glances up to meet Daisy's eyes, her expression guarded. “What do you want to know?”
“Is Y/N... you know, single? And what do you think of them?”
Wanda's eyebrows shoot up, her eyes sharpening immediately. She places the knife down on the countertop with more force than necessary. “Why do you ask?”
Sam whistles softly, making it obvious he's eavesdropping. “Damn, getting intense over here,” he comments with a grin, making no effort to hide his amusement.
Daisy shoots him an exasperated look, but there's a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Trying to have a conversation here, Wilson.”
Ignoring Sam's teasing, Wanda presses, “I just want to know why you're asking.”
Daisy sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. “We've been talking a lot, and I was just... curious.”
Sam, not missing a beat, chimes in, “Curious or interested?"
Daisy rolls her eyes. "Nosy much?"
Wanda reaches for the shredder and starts grating all the remaining vegetables rather aggressively.
Sam laughs before lifting the spatula to his lips to sample the soup he’s making. “Just trying to get the lay of the land.”
“Why don't you focus on your soup, Sam?” Wanda retorts, though her eyes never leave her task.
Sam smirks, catching the hint of jealousy in Wanda's tone, and decides to push just a little further. “You know, Wanda, if you have something to say about Y/N, now's the time.”
Wanda's eyes flash red for a brief moment. Sam holds his hands up in mock surrender, but the smirk doesn’t leave his face.
Daisy looks between them in confusion.
Taking a moment, Wanda sets the shredder aside and faces Daisy squarely. “Y/N almost risked their life to save mine. If you're looking for a testament to their character, well, actions like that are rare to come by.”
“And as for Y/N’s relationship status,” she continues, a bit reluctantly, “I believe they're single.”
Daisy's gaze becomes gentle, a dreamy quality entering her eyes. “That's... truly heroic,” she whispers, almost to herself. Wanda feels a sudden urge to throw up.
She then flashes a grateful smile at Wanda. “Thanks, Wanda. That means a lot coming from you.”
Wanda merely nods before clearing her throat. “Well, now that that's settled, could someone pass the salt?”
It’s Sam who hands it over, but not before saying, “Try not to add too much. We wouldn't want dinner to be as salty as some people's moods.”
-
Tony is, unsurprisingly, first in line, eagerly eyeing the roasted vegetables. “If the taste is half as good as the smell, we’re in for a treat tonight.”
Steve chuckles, replying, “I think we can trust Wanda and Sam's culinary skills by now.”
Natasha and Clint are engrossed in a deep conversation about an upcoming mission, while Bruce discusses some new upgrades with Tony. Vision, for his part, is explaining to Peter the intricacies of using Wanda's food processor.
As the chatter continues, Wanda moves to retrieve the centerpiece of the dinner: a golden-brown roasted chicken. She feels everyone's eyes on her, awaiting the moment the chicken will land on the table. However, her gaze is involuntarily drawn to the table where she sees you and Daisy sitting next to each other, laughing about something.
In that split second of distraction, her fingers graze the scalding metal rack of the oven. A sharp hiss escapes her lips, the sudden pain evident on her face. Dropping the oven mitts, she mutters a quick “Excuse me” and dashes off to the nearest bathroom, intending to run the burnt area under cold water.
You notice her quick exit and, after a brief moment of hesitation, quietly follow her. As you near the bathroom, the sound of running water reaches your ears.
Without knocking, you enter. Wanda is cradling her hand, trying to soothe the burn.
Your voice is soft with concern when you speak, “Wanda? Let me help.”
Wanda quickly pulls her hand away from the water, her eyes widening as she registers your arrival. “I’m fine,” she snaps, her posture tensing further. Water drips from her fingers onto the porcelain sink.
You take a hesitant step forward, your intent clear. “I can heal it. Just let me—”
“I said I'm fine,” she interrupts, her voice sharp. “Sometimes it's good to feel pain, you know, heal the natural way. Not everything needs a... quick fix.” She glances pointedly at you, an obvious jab at your abilities.
Your eyes narrow slightly at her comment, but you keep your emotions in check. “It's not about the quick fix, Wanda. It's about helping someone in pain, even if that someone is stubbornly pushing everyone away.”
She sighs, her defenses visibly waning. “Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be out there with Daisy?”
“What’s Daisy got to do with any of this?”
Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, averting her gaze. Even if she has an answer ready, she's not sure she'd want to voice it.
With a sharp exhale, your frustration bubbles over.
“Fine,” you say tersely, pointing at her burned hand. “Let it scar then. See if I care.”
Moving swiftly, you leave the bathroom without waiting for her response.
Wanda stays there for a few minutes, taking deep breaths and trying to steady herself. When she finally decides to rejoin the team for dinner, she notices the empty spot beside Daisy. You're gone, probably to your room.
Regret coils in her stomach. She didn’t mean for things to escalate like that, especially when all you were trying to do was help.
-
She hasn't felt this anxious in a long time.
It reminds her of the days after she lost everything that truly mattered.
Checking that everyone is probably asleep, Wanda takes a deep breath and heads towards your room. Her mind races, trying to figure out what to say, how to apologize.
She stops in front of your room and then gently raps on the door, listening intently for any sign of movement inside. “Y/N?” she calls out hesitantly. She doesn't expect the door to open immediately, and when it does, it's not you who answers.
Instead, Daisy stands there, looking a little startled too.
“You…” Wanda hisses slowly before she can catch herself.
Daisy quickly registers Wanda's reaction and raises her hands in a placating manner. “Oh, right. Sorry, this must be weird. My apartment had a plumbing issue, a flood actually. Since I'm joining the team permanently, I made a request for a new room. But until that's sorted, Y/N offered me theirs.”
Wanda's insides churn with a jealousy she can't quite place, but she masks it swiftly, painting on a polite smile. “And where's Y/N now?” she asks, her voice deceptively calm.
Daisy bites her lip, appearing somewhat embarrassed. “They're asleep,” she admits. Stepping aside, she reveals you, nestled in a makeshift bed on the floor, blankets arranged around you for some semblance of comfort.
Wanda's eyes soften at the sight of you, but her heart also tightens in anger. You've given up your bed, your comfort, for Daisy. You’re doing for someone else what she’s done for you. It feels like an invasion of something she thought she exclusively shared with you.
Daisy shifts, catching Wanda's stare. “They wouldn’t listen to me,” she explains, a bit embarrassed. “Kept saying it's fine and that I should take the bed.”
Wanda just nods, a tightness in her voice. “Sounds like them, alright.”
Trying to ease the tension, Daisy adds, “Y/N always talks about you, you know. In a good way. Maybe you two should just... chat.”
Wanda raises an eyebrow, a little surprised. “They do?”
Daisy chuckles. "Yeah. Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Night."
“Night,” Wanda murmurs, still looking at you.
Once Daisy’s gone, Wanda hesitates. Part of her wants to barge in, shake you awake, and have that long overdue talk. Instead, she absentmindedly touches the burn on her hand, its sting a reminder of how you tried to help her earlier. It's jarring to think that you, even after avoiding each other for days, were ready to heal her.
And damn, it hurts. Not the burn, but the realization of how much she misses you.
-
Wanda doesn’t get any chances to talk to you for the next several days because you–along with Natasha, Daisy and Vision are called away to a mission.
Each day you’re away, Wanda feels the weight of anxiety pressing down on her chest. She can’t help but worry, replaying every worst-case scenario in her mind. She catches herself multiple times pacing by the control room, asking for updates, or staring out at the landing pad, waiting for the quinjet to return.
When word finally arrives that the quinjet is en route back to the compound, Wanda finds herself in the hangar before she’s even consciously made the decision to be there. Steve stands next to her, his face betraying his own relief. A few other team members have gathered too, all awaiting the return of their comrades.
The roar of the quinjet’s engines fills the air as it makes its descent. As the ramp lowers, Wanda's eyes scan the disembarking figures, and they lock onto yours. You look a little worn, a fresh bruise marring your cheek—oddly enough, one you've chosen not to heal. But beyond that, you seem okay.
Her heart swells with relief.
You seem to pause for a second, looking genuinely shocked to see Wanda amongst those waiting. For a moment, your eyes lock. She offers a tentative smile, full of hope, and it seems you're about to approach her. But then, as you step further out of the quinjet, Daisy appears at your side. The way she comfortably intertwines her fingers with yours sends a sharp pang through Wanda's heart and her smile falters.
Steve claps his hands together, attempting to reign in the team's focus. “Alright, debrief. How did it go?”
Natasha, with a deadpan expression, shoots back, “Could’ve gone smoother if you’d packed me a flask, Rogers.”
Steve smirks, shaking his head. “Alright, Romanoff. Just don’t make us wait too long.”
As you approach Wanda, your expression gives away nothing. “Hey,” you murmur, voice neutral. But Wanda’s eyes have darted down to where your hand is connected with Daisy's. Her eyes harden, and when she meets your gaze, they’ve become unreceptive.
Misreading the tightening of Wanda's features as coldness, your frown deepens. You'd thought some time apart might've helped ease the strain between you two, but guess not.
Just as you're about to say something to her–maybe an explanation as to why you’re holding Daisy’s hand–Daisy gives a playful tug on your hand, breaking the moment. “Come on,” she chirps. “Let's head in. I heard there's pizza, and I intend to eat more slices than you.”
You allow Daisy to pull you along, throwing one last glance at Wanda over your shoulder, wishing she'd say something–anything.
But Wanda's back is already turned to you. Her posture rigid, fists clenched at her sides, the knuckles going white. In that moment, Wanda is making a silent vow to herself, one of emotional self-preservation.
She walks away, her heels clicking against the ground with each firm and decisive step. Deep down, the walls she'd slowly been dismantling brick by brick in the face of a potential future with you were being hastily reconstructed.
She’s survived worse things.
Of course, she’ll survive you.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x you#wanda maximoff#unbetad#my writing#my fic#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen#wanda maximoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff#captain america civil war#the avengers#oneshots#steve rogers#daisy johnson#vision#sam wilson
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Fluffy relationship headcanons for Astarion and Tav
No one asked but I have to get out some headcanons I have for Astarion (and some for his relationship with Tav (based on my female Tav)) or rather some ideas I have in my head for how it'd be after the ending of the game's events. Bear in mind, I am not done with my first playthrough yet.
We know he can handle a thread and a needle very well. Imagine he would get a dress for her, knowing she's not used to this kind of finery and would add custom embroidery relating to stuff she likes and then giving it to her on her birthday or their anniversary. And Tav just completely loses it, breaking down crying, because neither has anyone ever done something so sweet for her nor could she bear all the care and effort her soulmate put into it.
They bicker - a lot. They swing between old married couple that call each other names and piss each other off and being the sweetest, most diabetes-inducing, just recently gotten into a relationship-y lovebirds.
Laying in bed naked and sharing a bottle of wine while talking about their relationship, their pasts, whatever state the world is in is their favourite hobby.
They have datenights showing each other their favourite spots around town - also working through their collective trauma.
Maybe Tav convinces him to start journaling and slowly working through his past, maybe he finds out he has a knack for poetry doing that, so he starts randomly writing sweet little poems for Tav and leaves them around their place for her to find.
Astarion making a habit out of doing Tav's hair and making sure she takes better care of herself, because she's lived most of her life like a streetcat and didn't care so much about how she looked. Hair? Yeah, I've put half of it in braids and haven't touched them for a year. Make-up? Sure, I've been wearing this smoky eye for a week. Also, why do you think I have this tattoo?
Okay, enough for now. I will most probably put some of these moments in fictions because I simply cannot contain myself. Meet my Tav btw:
#astarion#astarion x mc#astarion x oc#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#baldurs gate#baldurs gate 3#bg3 spoilers#astarion ancunin#headcanons#fluff#not sure if I've ever obsessed over something so passionately#tav#bg3 tav#bg3 astarion#bg3#bg3 oc#poro headcanons
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