storiesforallfandoms

[storiesforallfandoms]

a winter night at rockefeller ~ jschlatt

word count: 1773

request?: no

description: in which he hates the big city, but he'll go wherever she wants him to go

pairing: jschlatt x female!reader

warnings: swearing, rpf, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

Most of what Schlatt said and did in his videos was exaggerated. Most content creators exaggerated themselves for the camera, but Schlatt very clearly had an online persona that was completely different to how he was in real life.

One thing that wasn't an exaggeration, though, was how much he hated the city.

When you're born and raised in New York, the place literally nicknamed "the city that never sleeps", people assume that you become accustomed to the big city life. Schlatt, however, absolutely hated the big city. He loved the state of New York, but he hated the crowds and the noise, and the hustle and bustle of New York City.

So when he found himself pushing through the dense December crowds, he was trying to keep himself calm. If it weren't for his beautiful girlfriend excitedly towing him along, he'd probably have lost it already.

Although, if it weren't for that same beautiful girlfriend, he wouldn't be here anyways.

(Y/N) had recently moved in with Schlatt in his house in New York after the two had been dating for two years. She knew how Schlatt felt about the big city, so she rarely ever asked him about going with her if she wanted to explore. She didn't mind going alone, or with Ted and Tucker whenever they visited. But when the snow started to fall, and New York started to look very Christmassy, she asked him to go to Rockefeller with her.

"I've always wanted to go skating there," she had told him. "You don't have to get on the ice with me. I'd just like you to come with me."

Despite her insistence that he didn't have to skate with her, Schlatt went out and bought himself skates, then he brought the two of them into the city.

They arrived at the Rockefeller ice rink and, predictably, the place was packed. There looked like there was no room on the ice at all. Schlatt tensed up. (Y/N) squeezed his hand.

"We don't have to skate yet," she said. "We can go get a hot chocolate or something first, then come back when it's cleared out a bit."

Schlatt gave her an amused look. "How chocolate?"

"Tis the season!"

He put his arm around her and pulled her close so he could kiss her head. "No, let's get on the ice so we can just get it over with. Then we can get hot chocolate to warm ourselves afterwards."

They made their way to the rink. As they changed into their skates, people started to steadily come off the ice. Schlatt had chosen to come down not late enough that it was dark yet, but enough that people would be getting ready to go home for dinner, especially people with kids. And he very much wanted to avoid any kids the most.

(Y/N) was ready before him, and she didn't wait for him before getting on the ice. He looked up in time to see her glide away from the door. He felt a smile tug at his lips. He stood, took a moment to steady himself, then moved to the edge of the ice. (Y/N) was already to the other side of the rink, easily gliding past anyone who she came upon. Even at this distance, Schlatt could see the smile on her face. Seeing her so happy put a smile on his own face.

Before he knew it, she was coming up to him again. She slowed herself down enough to take hold of the edge and stop completely next to Schlatt.

"Sorry," she said, although her smile was anything but apologetic. "I got a little ahead of myself."

"You failed to tell me you're a professional skater."

(Y/N) giggled and shook her head. "Definitely not professional. I always used to skate on the frozen pond by my house as a kid."

"Well, you're much better than I am. You're going to literally be skating circles around me."

(Y/N) put her hand out. Schlatt took it and slowly stepped onto the ice. He definitely wasn't as graceful as (Y/N) had been. The second one of his skates touched the ice, his leg was moving from underneath him. The hand that wasn't holding (Y/N)'s flailed as he helplessly tried to keep himself on his feet. (Y/N) grabbed for him. She was laughing as she helped him steady himself.

"Have you ever skated?" she asked.

"Not since I was in elementary school," he replied. "And I used to use those fuckin' skate guides. The plastic ones that were bright as fuck."

(Y/N) moved so she was right next to him. She looped her arm through his, resting her hand against his forearm. "Well, we'll just have to take it slow then. And if you fall, I'll go down with you."

Schlatt smiled at her.

They pushed away and started their skate. Schlatt was still holding on to the side with one hand. Whenever he stumbled a little, (Y/N) would tighten her grip on his arm to keep him from falling.'

Schlatt eventually noticed that they were going slow enough to be lapped by another couple.

"You know, if you want to skate ahead of me I wouldn't be mad," he told (Y/N). "I mean, this probably feels slower than a snail's pace for you."

"I don't mind going slow," she assured him. "I didn't come here to race around the rink. I came to skate with my boyfriend." She moved her hand to hold his and leaned into him. "Who I'm sure is hating every second of this."

Schlatt chuckled. "Only mildly."

Soon enough, they finally made a full lap around the rink. The sun was mostly gone, the rink was lit by the lights surrounding it. Most people had cleared out, so it was only them and a few other couples. Schlatt was stopped, leaning against the side of the rink. He looked down at (Y/N), who was gazing around the rink in awe. Schlatt couldn't help but smile at her. He reached out to pull her close to him - still trying not to fall over on the ice.

"Are you cold enough to get hot chocolate yet?" he asked.

She chuckled. "Oh, I was cold enough when we were walking from the subway."

Schlatt laughed. "Go around once more, then I'll take you to a cafe that I like."

"You don't want to come with me?"

"I don't think I should be on skates ever again."

(Y/N) didn't try to convince him further. She knew he was probably right. She kissed his cheek and let go of him to skate around the rink once more. Schlatt slowly made his way off the ice and back to where they had left their boots. He almost sighed in relief as his foot slipped free from the confines of the skate.

Why do they make these things so fuckin' tight? he thought to himself. My foot is gonna go numb from lack of blood flow before it goes numb from the cold.

(Y/N) was stood in front of him before he knew it. She was breathing a little heavily, but still had a small smile on her face. Her happiness was so contagious that Schlatt was able to forget everything about this trip that annoyed him.

She changed back into her own boots and they collected their skates to go. Schlatt took her hand and held it tightly so he wouldn't lose her in the crowd. Even though it had cleared off a bit, it was still busy enough that they could easily get separated if they weren't careful.

The cafe Schlatt wanted to go to wasn't too far from Rockefeller. It was a small, not well known spot that he used to go to when he was still in college. There was rarely ever anyone there, which made it the perfect spot to go to get away whenever he needed. He ordered two hot chocolates for them, and they went to sit in a booth near the back of the cafe.

"I appreciate you coming with me today," (Y/N) said. She leaned forward to blow on her drink to cool it off.

"Of course, you wanted me to come," Schlatt said.

(Y/N) lifted her cup to her lips, but winced as the still boiling hot liquid touched her lip. As she placed the cup back down, she said, "Yeah, but I know you hate the city, and I know skating isn't really your thing."

"I mean, I certainly will not be putting these skates to use ever again," he agreed, lightly kicking the skates that were now by his feet. "But I'm not going to say no to something you really want to do."

(Y/N) giggled. "You're whipped."

Schlatt scoffed. "I am not whipped! God forbid I want to do something to make my girlfriend happy."

She smiled and reached across the table for his hand. They were much warmer after holding the hot cup. Schlatt also felt like he had warmed up since coming inside. He almost dreaded having to go back outside.

"We can do whatever you want to do as repayment for today," (Y/N) told him.

He looked at her with confusion. "Repayment?"

She nodded. "I figure you may not have had a great time today, so if you wanted to do something else that you will consider to be a good time, I want to do that to repay you for taking me skating today."

Schlatt was shaking his head before she even finished her thought. "You don't have to repay me for anything. I may not enjoy going into the city, but I'd do it every day if you asked me to. Because I love you, and I love to see you happy. You had a good time today, so I had a good time today."

(Y/N) smiled at him. She squeezed his hand and leaned forward as if he was going to kiss him. Schlatt moved to close the gap, only to be stopped when (Y/N) said, "Whipped."

Schlatt pulled his hand away from her. "Okay, you know what? I take it all back. You can stay here on your own!"

(Y/N) was laughing before taking another sip of her hot chocolate, now cooled down enough that she could actually drink it. Schlatt was shaking his head at her. "You're lucky I love you so much."

"I know," she said, and leaned forward to actually kiss him. "And I love you, too."

[storiesforallfandoms]

Could u do a Eminem x reader

Where the reader is asexual (they feel romantic attraction but not sexual attraction) and she’s getting a lot of hate for it and one day she’s back stage while he raps at one of his biggest concerts and he brings reader on stage and confesses his love and basically tells everyone that they need to stfu, and everyone shocked cause he doesn’t show emotions publicly very often. (Fluff) and ALOT of angst at the beginning

Done! I hope you like it!

[storiesforallfandoms]

public service announcement ~ eminem

word count: 2709

request?: yes!

“Could u do a Eminem x reader

Where the reader is asexual (they feel romantic attraction but not sexual attraction) and she’s getting a lot of hate for it and one day she’s back stage while he raps at one of his biggest concerts and he brings reader on stage and confesses his love and basically tells everyone that they need to stfu, and everyone shocked cause he doesn’t show emotions publicly very often. (Fluff) and ALOT of angst at the beginning”

description: during one of the biggest shows of his career, he decides to give his audience a public service announcement about his girlfriend

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing, rpf lil bit of angst, people being shitty about the reader’s sexuality

masterlist (one, two, three)

People not understanding my sexuality was nothing new. I had heard all the comments: “You just haven’t had good sex yet”; “You’ll change your mind when you find the right person”; “You’re making stuff up”. None of that phased me anymore because I understand that most people just don’t understand asexuality.

What did phase me was a new wave of hate that I started to get when Marshall and I started dating.

I don’t keep my sexuality a secret. I was very open about being asexual. It was even in all my social media bios. But I wasn’t super famous. I was an indie artist with a small following, most of which were also queer, so everyone was respectful. But when I started dating Marshall, I started getting more mainstream recognition. It was great for me career wise, but it unfortunately meant I was opened to a wider audience with a smaller mindset.

It started with questions about what asexual meant. Some people were open to the concept, but the louder minority were very not open to it. They made sure I knew with every post I made that they were not open to my sexuality.

“Prude” was a favorite insult. That one just made me laugh because it sounded so juvenile. Some just used the “making stuff up” and “attention seeker” comments. Those ones didn’t phase me anymore either. What got to me was when they started attacking my relationship.

“Why would Em want to date someone like her? He can’t even get any from her.”

“She’s not even attractive enough to make up for her sexless bullshit.”

“How long till Em dumps her ass because she won’t give it up? I say less than a year.”

They were all I ever saw in my comments. I know the only way to deal with shit like this is to ignore it. Once you allow the comments to bother you, then the trolls win. But it was definitely easier said than done. At first, it was easy to roll my eyes and close the comments. But then it became harder when more of my comments were mocking or insulting me. I tried deleting the negative comments one, but I was called out for it, which only fueled the fire when they realized it was getting to me.

I never told Marshall. He was chronically offline enough that he had no idea any of this was happening, and I wanted to keep it that way. I didn’t want him to worry about me, or be mad that his own fans were the ones saying these things to me.

Of course, what I wanted wasn’t what was going to happen, because fuck me I guess.

I had woken up before Marshall and decided to get a cup of coffee. The kettle was heating up as I decided to open social media for a mindless scroll while I waited. If I kept a log of how quickly I could stumble upon hate comments, this would be the record. It was almost instant when I opened Instagram and looked at the reactions on a story I had posted the night before. I hated that Instagram had added a feature to allow “commenting” on stories. It was so much easier to ignore responses to stories when I could just deny the message requests. But now this new commenting feature showed me everything that was being said.

I had posted a picture of me sat on the couch with my feet on Marshall’s lap. You couldn’t see his face or anything, just his hands resting on my legs, and the football game he was watching in the background. I had a filter on it, but no caption and no music. Of course, that’s all it took for the comments to be flooded with hate.

Okay, maybe “flooded” was an over exaggeration, but it felt like that was the truth when all I could focus on was the hate comments. I couldn’t stop myself from scrolling through and reading every single one, even when the kettle finished boiling. I was so deep in my doomscrolling that I didn’t hear Marshall walking up behind me until he said. “What’s wrong?”

I jumped, nearly dropping my phone in the process. “Jesus, I didn’t hear you come up.”

He reached out to brush his thumb over my cheek. “You’re crying.”

I hadn’t noticed I was crying, either. I wiped my other cheek and felt the wetness from tears I hadn’t even known were shed.

“It’s nothing,” I said with a shrug. “Saw something stupid and I guess it got to me.”

“It’s not stupid if it made you that upset,” Marshall said. “You don’t have to tell me, but you know if something is bothering you, you can talk to me about it. Even if you think it’s stupid.”

I was still a little emotional so his support hit me harder than usual. I felt tears welling in my eyes again and I couldn’t stop myself from blurting, “I just wish people would respect my sexuality. They don’t need to understand, but how hard is it just to respect someone?”

He didn’t ask what I meant. He pulled me into his arms and allowed me to cry on his shoulder. We stood like that for a while, Marshall running a hand up and down my back in a soothing way while his other arm was wrapped around me, and me crying into his shoulder.

I finally collected myself and pulled away from Marshall. “Sorry. I needed that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Who’s been giving you a hard time now?”

Marshall knew I had had multiple issues with people not respecting my sexuality before. There’s been times where I had complained to him since we started dating. So at least this didn’t come off as if it came out of nowhere. But I wasn’t sure how to tell him it was his fans that were saying these things.

Turns out I didn’t have to say it. My silence and expression was enough to tip him off. His face changed from sympathetic to having a touch of anger. “How long have they been saying shit?”

“A while,” I said with a shrug. Marshall gave me a look that made me sigh and correct, “Shortly after we started dating.”

“What?!”

“I thought I had it handled!” I quickly added. “It’s not like I’ve never heard that shit before. I’ve just...been struggling a bit more with it lately, that’s all.”

Marshall just looked at me for a moment before saying, “Let me see.”

I held my phone to my chest. Marshall raised an eyebrow at me. I sighed and conceded, realizing there was no getting out of this now. If I didn’t show him myself, he’d go looking on his own later. May as well be here to try and talk him down after he saw what people were writing about me.

I unlocked my phone and was immediately brought up the stuff I had been reading before Marshall woke up. I handed him my phone, then leaned back against the counter to watch him read. His ability to keep a straight face was working in his favor. There were no signs of any emotion as he read through the comments, just his eyes moving back and forth as he read.

Finally, he locked my phone and passed it back  to me.

“You should’ve told me before,” he said. He didn’t sound angry. Not with me, anyways.

“I told you, I thought I had it under control,” I said. “It wasn’t even bad at first. It just...progressed over time.”

The look Marshall gave me was finally readable: sympathy. He pulled me into his arms again and sighed. “I do wish you had told me either way. I’m sorry my fans are giving you a hard time.”

I buried my head into the crook of his neck. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. People are just so closeminded, it’s frustrating, and then it’s hard when the closeminded people start attacking your relationship just because they don’t want to try and understand.”

Marshall was quiet. He didn’t really have to say anything. It was nice just to talk to him about what was bothering me finally. As much as I didn’t want him to know, it was good to get it off my chest and to have someone know what was going on. And I definitely needed the prolonged hug that followed.

~~~~~~

A few weeks later, I found myself standing backstage as I watched Marshall perform. It was a huge night for him as he was getting inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. This was probably one of, if not the biggest night of his career, and I was glad that I could be there to celebrate with him.

Although, I was a little confused as to why I was celebrating backstage instead of being in the audience with Hailie, which was the original plan when Marshall got the news. But when we were getting ready for the ceremony, he asked me to instead be backstage while he performed and for his acceptance speech. When I asked why, he just told me he wanted me backstage for when he walked off. I tried to push for more of an answer, but he wouldn’t say anything else.

So, there I was, stood backstage next to Dre as we watched Marshall’s performance. At some point I realized I was smiling so wide that my cheeks were hurting, but I couldn’t help myself. I was so proud of him. He definitely deserved this after all his years in the industry.

When the performance ended, Dre walked back to the podium to give Marshall an official introduction before his speech. I had watched him write and re-write his speech many times because he kept feeling like what he had written wasn’t good enough (which I constantly found ironic given he was probably the best lyricist of this generation, but I guess that’s different than writing a speech). The final speech had come out great in the end though, in my opinion.

When he finished his list of rappers he looked up to, I expected it to be the end. That was, once again, the original plan anyways. He’d list all the rappers who raised him, he’d thank the audience and the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame one more time, then he’d exit the stage.

Instead, I was taken by surprise when he said, “And I do have one more thing to say here before I go. I’d like to bring someone very special to me out on stage.”

Then his blue eyes found me backstage and I felt like I was going to pass out.

I walked out on shaky legs, willing myself not to collapse in front of this room full of people, plus the people watching at home on livestreams or the videos that would go up after the ceremony. I stood next to Marshall at the podium, unsure what I was doing there. He reached out to me and I took his hand in mine.

“A lot of you probably know my girlfriend,” he said. “She’s also a musician, and we’ve been together for a while now. I already thanked her in my speech because she has been a huge support for me since we got together. But I’m not bringing her on stage tonight to thank her for that. I’m bringing her up here because there are enough eyes on me tonight that I wanted to address something important.”

My mouth suddenly felt very dry. I tried not to face the audience cause I knew I looked like a deer in headlights.

“See, my girlfriend openly identifies as asexual. That means she doesn’t feel sexual attraction, just romantic attraction. She speaks very openly on it because not many people know or understand what asexuality means. I didn’t really know until I met her and educated myself. It’s not hard to just open Google and look do some reading on what asexual means, and to properly educate yourself on not only asexual, but the LGBTQ community as a whole.”

He paused for a second to look over at me. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was feeling in that moment, but I managed to smile at him.

“I’m saying all of this here now because it recently came to my attention that a lot of people who claim to be my fans have been attacking this woman that I love online because of her sexuality. It goes far beyond not understanding what asexual means, and has turned into personally attacking her and our relationship. With all eyes on me here tonight, I wanted to say that anyone who would say these awful things about her, about us, are not real fans of mine. Any fan of mine would respect the people I love, and would respect my relationships. You don’t need to completely understand what being asexual means, but not understanding doesn’t mean you get to be disrespectful to anyone who identifies as asexual. And if you want to open your mouth to insult this amazing woman stood next to me, then you can just shut the fuck up and stop pretending to be my fan.”

I finally dared to look at the audience. I was mostly blinded by the stage lights, but I could pick out a variety of emotions throughout the room; interest, shock, some nodding in agreement. I was certainly shocked. Marshall was a very private person. I don’t think he had ever spoken publicly about our relationship before. I would post the odd photo of us every now and then, or I’d share on my Instagram story whenever he made new music or had something coming up. But neither of us had ever spoken this candidly about our relationship before. Especially not at such a widely watched event.

Marshall thanked everyone and the audience applauded. It was a bit tentative at first, but eventually the applause was grew as he put his arm around me and walked of the stage. Dre was still waiting in the sidelines, looking just as shocked as I felt but still took a moment to congratulate Marshall.

“I can’t believe that did that,” I finally said once it was just the two of us.

“Are you mad that I did?” he asked.

I shook my head, but then paused. “I mean, I don’t think so. I’m kind of feeling a lot of emotions.”

He took my hands in his and pulled me towards him. “I’m sorry I surprised you like that, but I knew if I talked to you about it first you would’ve told me not to do it.”

“Of course I would’ve! Marshall, this is your big night. I wouldn’t have wanted you to take away from your own success just because some internet trolls were getting to me.”

“Nothing was taken away from me. Not to me, anyways. I still put on a hell of a show, I still got inducted into the Hall of Fame. I just decided to use this platform to address what was happening with you as well, because you don’t deserve the bullshit you’ve been going through. I’m not naïve enough to think that it’ll stop completely now that I’ve spoken on it, because I know that’s just not how the internet works. But I wasn’t going to stand by and let you be hurt without saying anything. You don’t deserve that.”

I felt some tears pricking my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but it was no use. So, I leaned in quickly and pressed a kiss against Marshall’s lips.

“I guess you’re not mad then,” he teased when I pulled away

“I’m not mad,” I confirmed. “Actually, I am a little. You could’ve given me a heads up that you wanted me to be on stage with you. I’m going to look so stupid in all the videos because I look terrified to be stood there.”

He laughed and pulled me into a hug. “You’ll get over it eventually. Let’s go back to our table before the next inductee is on.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

our own after party ~ damien haas

word count: 3258

request?: no

description: while everyone else is gone out drinking after vidcon, they decide to get to know each other alone

pairing: damien haas x female!reader

warnings: swearing, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

There was something about being a new Twitch streamer/YouTuber at your first VidCon that was just so surreal.

I could barely believe I had even gotten the invite, even though I had nearly a million subscribers on YouTube and a couple hundred thousand on Twitch. But then to actually attend the event and meet so many creators I had been a fan of for years made it feel all the more surreal. I felt more like a fangirl than some of the people who had come to meet me.

I had some time after my own meet and greet to wander the floor and mingle with other creators and fans, as well as to check out some of the booths and whatnot that VidCon was offering. I got to meet other creators like me who were just completely starstruck with being at the con as a featured creator, and some of the old school YouTubers we had all been watching for ages. But what really got me was when I ran into some of the cast members of Smosh.

Smosh was probably the first YouTube channel I had ever gotten into, way back when it was just Ian and Anthony lip syncing to the Pokémon theme song and making skits. As time went on, I went back and forth on how much I watched. At some point I remembered having gone a few years without watching a Smosh video and deciding to see what they were up to, only to find out that it was way more people than just Ian and Anthony now. I was shocked, but found myself growing attached to the new cast and became a regular viewer again.

When Courtney spotted me me first, and knew my streaming name because they were a fan, I found it incredibly hard to keep my cool. I felt like i was living a dream that I never wanted to wake up from.

“Come, meet everyone!” they insisted, pulling me towards the group of YouTubers I had been watching for years. “Shayne! Look who I met!”

Shayne seemed to recognize me immediately as well, which made sense if Courtney watched me as frequently as they were saying. Didn’t make Shayne’s recognition any less exciting for me.

Courtney brought me around, introducing me to the faces I already knew. They were all so kind and welcoming, acting exactly as they did on camera. It was the best outcome when it came to meeting your heroes.

“What do you stream?” Angela asked after Courtney introduced us. “Like what kind of content?”

“Gaming, mostly,” I replied. “I have a friend group who also game and stream that I mostly play with. We’ll do Among Us, Lethal Company, stuff like that. But I do story based playthroughs on my own, too. Like, I just finished playing Baulder’s Gate on stream.”

“Oh, we have the perfect person to talk to about that.” Angela turned and called, “Damien!”

He wasn’t that far away from us, but Angela’s voice still rang out through the room. I couldn’t help but laugh. This was exactly what I loved about watching Smosh, and getting to see it in real life was way better than on a screen.

The familiar purple haired man made his way over to us. My heart began to beat a little faster. I had to remind myself how to breathe and how to act like a normal person. Maybe, just maybe, I had a tiny bit of a crush on Damien. He was the cast member I found myself growing attached to the most while watching, which wasn’t unusual. Everyone had their favorite cast member. I followed Damien’s non-Smosh career as well, especially his Anime voice acting. That’s when I started to realize my “attachment” was more of a little YouTube crush.

And now he was stood in front of me, and my stomach was so full of butterlies.

“(Y/N),” Angela said, pulling me back to reality. “This is Damien, our resident DND expert. Damien, this is (Y/S/N). She just played Baulder’s Gate. Communicate.”

Damien gave Angela a look before offering a hand to me. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

I was very aware I was shaking his hand for too long, but when I quickly ripped my hand away I became very aware of how weird that was, too. I internally cringed. Why can I not act normal?

“Since we’ve been assigned a speaking topic,” Damien said, luckily ignoring my current inability to be normal. “What were your thoughts on Baulder’s Gate?”

“I was pleasantly surprised. I’m not usually an RPG player, and I’ve never been into DND. But everyone and their mother was raving over Baulder’s Gate, so I decided to give it a go. I was tempted to break my streaming schedule so I could stream every day until I finished it, it was just that good.”

“It was so tough not to play it off stream. I’ve already started another save that I can play on my off time. I’m exploring what little I didn’t see on stream.”

“Romancing anyone different?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I might just focus on the story or the world.”

I nodded. I found myself at a loss for any way to continue the conversation. I tried to grasp at anything to say, but Damien’s attention was quickly drawn away by something Angela wanted to show him. Courtney pulled me into a conversation with Arasha, but I couldn’t help but watch Damien drift away, mentally kissing any shot at talking to him again goodbye.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. The Smosh cast had a live panel to do, so eventually I parted ways with them. Courtney invited me out to an after party when the con was over, but I told them I wasn’t much of a partier and would have to pass on the invite. Although, I would definitely be holding onto the fact that I met the Smosh cast and was invited to party with them for the rest of eternity.

As much as I loved meeting fans and seeing the fun of VidCon as a creator, I was more than excited to go back to my hotel room and order McDonald’s to eat while I watched whatever old sitcom re-run was on the hotel TV.

I was in the hotel lobby waiting for the elevator when a familiar voice said, “Going up?”

My heart leapt to my throat when I turned to see Damien stood next to me, smiling at me.

It took me far too long to find my voice, and when I did I could only stutter out, “Uh, y-yeah, I a-am.”

“Me too.”

The elevator dinged and the door opened. No one was getting off, so Damien and I stepped on. We both pressed our respective floor buttons (I was definitely disappointed that we weren’t staying on the same floor), and the elevator started its journey up.

“You didn’t go to the after party?” I asked.

Damien shook his head. “I don’t drink, so there’s only so much fun you can have when you’re sober and all your friends are drunk. Besides, I don’t really party in general.”

“Me either. Courtney invited me to that party, but it’s just not my scene.”

“What are your plans instead?”

“Take out and TV. The old classic.”

All too soon, the elevator was dinging again and the doors opened on my floor. I said goodbye to Damien and stepped out. I was looking for my keycard, and mentally trying to get over the fact that this was probably the actual last time I would see Damien, when his voice called for me to stop. I turned back to see him holding the door open, the elevator angrily beeping at him.

“If you don’t have any other plans,” he said, “did you want to hang out in my room for a bit? I was just gonna order delivery and maybe play a game or two on my Switch, but it would be nicer to have some company.”

I tried not to seem too eager as I turned back to the elevator and joined him again. I wasn’t sure what I had done to be this lucky to get to spend more time with Damien, but I wasn’t about to question anything.

Damien led me to his hotel room and opened the door for me, gesturing for me to walk in first and he followed. There wasn’t much to take in since all the rooms were basically the same; a big room with one bed, a small bathroom, a huge TV on the wall, and a table with two cushion-y chairs on either side. His room didn’t have a balcony like mine did, though, and his was considerably cleaner. My room looked like a tornado had gone through it because I couldn’t decide what to wear or how to do my hair and makeup, so everything was just kind of thrown everywhere.

We sat down at the table and went through our options for delivery. My heart wasn’t completely set on McDonald’s, so I didn’t mind hearing Damien out on the options. Eventually, we settled on a large pizza and large garlic fingers, and some dessert we hadn’t heard of to go with it.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll eat it,” he said. “Nothing can be worse than some of the stuff Garrett used to make for Eat It or Yeet It.”

When the front desk called the room to let us know our delivery had come, Damien went down to grab it. When the door closed behind him, I immediately grabbed my phone and opened my Discord group with my friends.

“guys, you’ll never guess whos hotel room i’m in rn”

I was met with multiple messages along the lines of “gross”, “we don’t need to hear about your sexcapades”, “wrap it before you tap it”.

“not like that you freaks 🙄 i am currently hanging out with THEEEE Damien Haas”

My friend Nicky was the first to respond, “as in the guy from smosh??”

Jordan was next, adding, “as in the guy you’ve been crushing over for like three years???”

“yes and yes”

Now they were all suddenly very interested in what I was doing in Damien’s room. Suddenly the “ew we don’t need to hear it” messages had turned into begging for details.

I told them about meeting the Smosh cast at VidCon and happening to run into Damien when we got back to the hotel. I told them how he invited me over to his hotel room to hang out with him since neither of us were going to any after parties, and he was currently getting our delivery from the lobby.

When I finished explaining the situation, Jordan was quick to send a new message, saying, “you better kiss him tonight on god”.

I felt my face light aflame. “y’all i literally JUST met him. for all i know, i’ll never see him after today.”

Kayla, who had been quiet for most of the chat, decided this was the time to put in her two cents: “sounds like more of a reason to kiss him tonight 🤷🏻‍♀️”

I rolled my eyes and softly groaned. I guess what are friends for besides getting a rise out of you, while also giving you the advice you want to hear but don’t want to follow?

“What’s that about?”

I jumped and quickly tossed my phone aside. I hadn’t heard Damien come back, but now he was stood in front of me with two large boxes, topped with a smaller one, in his hands. I suddenly felt embarrassed, as if he had actually caught me talking about him. But there was no way he saw what we were talking about, was there?

“Just my friends being loveable pains in my ass,” I responded. “I didn’t even hear you come back. You should’ve asked me to come open the door or something.”

Damien shrugged as he put the boxes down in front of me. “Didn’t really need it. I had my key card in my hand so I could just tap it and push the door open right away. It took everything in me not to eat this whole pizza on the way up, though, so you better start digging in.”

We opened the boxes and took a few slices of pizza and the garlic bread each, before putting the boxes aside so that we could actually eat at the table (they were so big they took up the entire small round table). As I started to dig in, Damien turned on the hotel TV and casted Netflix from his phone to find something to watch. The second his profile opened, we were met with his “continue watching” section, which currently had Delicious in Dungeon as the first show under the heading. Red slowly crept up Damien’s neck to his cheeks.

“That’s embarrassing,” he said, quickly trying to get it off the screen.

“You don’t find it weird to watch a show you’re in?” I asked. Realizing how that sounded, I quickly added, “Weird as in, weird to hear yourself and know that’s you. Not weird as in...it’s a weird thing to do.”

Damien chuckled. “Not really, no. I don’t watch the English dubbed version. I mean, I watched the first episode just to hear myself and see how it all came together, but after that I just watched it with subtitles. Dungeon Meshi is my favorite voice acting thing I’ve done, and in general I really liked the manga when I read it so I wanted to follow it even though I know what’s going to happen.”

“I liked this one better than My Perfect Marriage anyways.”

I didn’t look at Damien after what I said. I don’t know why I felt almost embarrassed to have admitted to watching both. It’s not like I straight up told him I watched them just because he was in them.

But I could see him smiling out of the corner of my eye as he said, “You watched both?”

“I never finished My Perfect Marriage,” I admitted. “I wasn’t a fan of the plot, and...and I didn’t really like your character.”

He seemed surprised by my confession, so I felt the need to elaborate. “Not that he was a bad character, he wasn’t by any means. I just...didn’t like listening to him, because it didn’t...sound right, I guess? Like, it sounded like you, but not really if that makes sense. And...and I like you and your work too much to watch something that I felt wasn’t really you. That’s why I like Delicious in Dungeon better. Laios is very you.”

When I looked over at him, his smile had softened a bit. I had to look away in fear of starring at him for too long and weirding him out.

“I appreciate that,” he said.

We sat in silence for a while. Well, silence besides whatever show Damien had put on. I wasn’t really paying much attention. I was focusing on my pizza, and trying not to think too hard about the fact that Damien was sat so close to me. I mean, there was a whole table between us, but still he was so close. I still felt like I was in some kind of dream; like I was imagining the perfect way for my first VidCon to go.

At some point, Damien had picked the conversation back up by asking me more about myself. It started as questions about my Twitch and YouTube channels, but then it moved to general questions about me. In return, I started asking him about himself. We spent ages just talking and getting to know one another. Before either of us knew it, the show we had put on had stopped (neither of us had noticed so we hadn’t clicked “still watching”) and it was almost midnight.

The fatigue from the events of the day and the late hour finally hit me. My eyes were growing heavy, and I couldn’t stop myself from yawning. Damien looked over at me with an amused look.

“I guess it is getting close to a normal person bedtime,” he said.

“More like the bedtime of someone who had a lot of social interaction today,” I said. “I usually don’t mind being up late, but I am beat from today, and I have to do it again tomorrow and the next day too.”

Damien nodded in understanding. I was reluctant to leave, but I also didn’t want to just fall asleep sitting up. I had to be up early the next day to get ready for the next day of Vidcon, so I definitely had to go back to my room to sleep.

Damien walked me to the door, the leftover pizza and garlic fingers put in one box that he insisted I take with me. I tried not to be so obvious that I was stalling leaving, but I really did not want to go. I knew I’d likely see Damien at the con, but it wouldn’t be the same. And once the con ended, I’d probably never see him again, except for in Smosh videos.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” I said to him as I reached the door. “I had a good time.”

“Yeah, it was nice to have some company. You’re just as nice in real life as you are in your streams.”

The blush returned to his face, but I wasn’t focusing on that. I was too distracted by the fact that he had just accidentally admitted to watching my streams.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” he said, more to himself than to me.

“You watch my streams?” I asked.

After a moment of hesitation, he admitted, “Yeah, I do. I’ve been a viewer for a long time. I actually introduced Courtney to your stuff.”

Well, now that just made my entire day so much better. Damien was a fan of me? I had to be dreaming, right? I actually fell asleep at the table and now I was dreaming.

Feeling a bit confident, I admitted, “I’m a fan of yours, too. Like, outside of Smosh. I have kind of followed your non-Smosh career the most out of everyone.”

“Oh. Well...that’s...nice.”

We both looked at each other before we started to laugh. I was glad the moment hadn’t been made too awkward by both of our confessions.

“Hey, listen,” he said. “Before you go...do you think I could...get your number? Just so we can stay in touch after this weekend?”

No way this is happening. There’s just no way.

Instead of verbally answering, I took my phone from my bag and passed it to Damien. He put his number in and sent himself a text so that he’d have my number too.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

I nodded. “Yeah. Let me know if you have any free moments, we can hang out.”

“I’d love that.”

We said our goodnights and goodbyes. I finally dragged myself away from him. As I waited for the elevator, I turned back to see he was still watching me from his doorway. I waved as the elevator door opened. He waved back before I stepped in and the doors closed, finally separating us.

Once the door was closed, I allowed myself to do a little happy dance.

[storiesforallfandoms]

billy butcher's secret guilty pleasure ~ h.c.

warnings: if you don't like taylor swift, this one isn't for you

you were doing recon on a supe that mm had gotten a tip about

you were paired with billy, as usual

you were the only person who could keep him from doing something stupid and dramatic, so mm always insisted you go with him

you two had been waiting for over an hour and a half in complete silence, and you were starting to go a little stir crazy

so you grabbed the aux cord

"help yourself"

"i already am"

you plugged your phone into billy's sound system, turning it down just enough that it wouldn't be heard by the supe you were after, but you were still able to hear it

you pressed play on the first song that came up

"romeo, take me, somewhere we can be alone"

the look billy gives you tells you he is not pleased by your choice in music

but you completely ignore him

if he wanted to change the music, he could

but only after you listened to your own

you were looking through the binoculars you were given, a slight movement in the window having caught your attention

at this point, you had purposely played a few taylor swift songs just to get on billy's nerve (and because you loved her music so it was getting you through this otherwise boring recon)

you almost didn't notice the voice silently singing along to "betty"

almost

you slowly lowered your binoculars and looked over at billy, who was focused on the door as he sang to himself

when he realized you were looking at him, that scowl you knew so well returned

"the fuck are you lookin' at?"

"you know, betty isn't even a mainstream taylor swift song"

"fuck off"

"what's your favorite album? i bet it's reputation. you strike me as a reputation guy"

"i said fuck off. our supe is coming"

after a long confrontation that went the only way anything went with billy butcher, you were back in his car and on your way back to the office

"you tell anyone i was singin' along with your music, i will deny it"

"i figured"

"and i just might kill ya"

"i'd like to see you try"

there was a silence for some time, before billy said, "put on that one from evermore about champagne problems"

you giggled, "you mean the one called champagne problems?"

"fuck off and put it on before we get back to the building"

[storiesforallfandoms]

a perfect world ~ jack chambers;don't worry darling

word count: 2122

request?: no

description: in which she finds out that their picture perfect world is not as perfect as it seems

pairing: jack chambers x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, kind of an au where jack isn't an incel but he still does the bad thing of taking the reader into the simulation, jack tries to gaslight the reader, kind of a dark fic if you think about it but not super dark

masterlist (one, two, three)

Jack knew something was wrong the moment he walked into the house. It was the quiet that tipped him off. It was never quiet. Usually the place was filled with music. Either the soft lull of the radio, or his wife's humming, or both.

This time, though, the house was eerily quiet.

Jack came around the corner to find his wife stood at the kitchen counter. She had a glass of wine in her hand, with the bottle next to her on the counter. She was staring off into space as she took a sip of her wine, her movements almost robotic.

"(Y/N)?" Jack said, cautiously. "Love, are you alright?"

(Y/N) didn't respond at first. She took a long sip before slowly placing the glass down. Jack's worry was growing further. Not only worry for his wife, but worry for himself. If something was seriously wrong with her, then it would result in demotion, or worse, from Frank.

Finally, (Y/N) turned to face him. Her face was so calm that it scared Jack. When she spoke, her voice was also eerily calm.

"I know about Victory."

Jack tried to laugh off the comment. "My job? Of course you know about it, love."

"No," (Y/N) said, shaking her head. "I know what Victory is. I know why we're here, Jack. And what you did to me."

Jack's blood ran cold.

In his fear and anxiety, Jack started laughing again. (Y/N)'s face was still blank as she looked at him.

"I don't know what you're on about," Jack said. "I didn't do anything to you, besides put a ring on your finger."

(Y/N) chuckled, but there was no true humor behind it. "Well, yes, you did actually do that. But you didn't do it the way we've been telling the story, did you?"

Jack started to walk away. He was trying to seem nonchalant, but the panic was starting to overwhelm him. He didn't want (Y/N) to see his panic, otherwise he wouldn't be able to convince her that she was wrong.

He stopped when (Y/N) called after him, "How long do you intend to keep me in this simulation?"

Jack spun around before he could stop himself. "You are crazy! Do you hear yourself? You're talking crazy!"

Emotion was finally showing on (Y/N)'s face. It quickly went from shock to anger. "You're going to call me crazy? When you're the one who has me hooked up to a machine and making me play happy little housewife?!"

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

Jack couldn't help but quickly look around in panic. There was no way Frank was listening in on their private conversations, right? This wouldn't get back to him, would it? He needed to stop (Y/N) before things got too loud or somehow their neighbors noticed the arguing.

He tried a more calm approach, saying, "Love, I don't know where you got this idea. We are not in a simulation, you are not hooked up to machines. I'm sorry I called you crazy, but you have to understand that is how everyone will react when they hear you saying this."

(Y/N) pulled away as Jack tried to reach for her. "I got this idea when I went to the Victory headquarters."

Jack backed away from her. No, she couldn't have been to the Headquarters. None of the wives even knew where the Headquarters was, and they wouldn't be able to even go out that far.

Except for Margaret, but Ted wore he had her under control.

They locked eyes, silently daring the other to make a move. Jack had lost any sense of confidence he had mustered seconds ago. He felt like everything was about to slip from his fingers. Everything he worked so hard to build for him and (Y/N), all gone in the seconds it took for her to utter that sentence. Meanwhile, (Y/N) had gone back to looking emotionless. She didn't even realize how much she was about to lose.

When Jack didn't break the silence, (Y/N) took it as her opportunity to explain, "I was on the trolley and it broke down. The driver told me it would take some time for it to be fixed, so I offered to just walk back to town. But, oddly, the driver started trying to convince me not to get off. He was very adamant about staying on the trolley. I was a little put off by how insistent he was on it, but I thought he was just worried for my safety."

Jack felt himself unconsciously clenching his fists. The damn trolley driver. Couldn't he have been a little more subtle?

"I did stay on for a while," she continued. "But it was just the two of us, and I knew I'd get home quicker if I just walked. So I did. When the driver wasn't paying much attention, I got off and started walking. But we were in the desert, and none of us wives have ever been out that far, so I was a bit lost. I found his building I've never seen or heard of before. I knew I shouldn't go to it, but...my curiosity got the better of me."

Jack felt as though he was going to start crying. Even though he already knew the answer, he asked, "What did you see?"

"Nothing," (Y/N) responded. "Not at first. Not until I touched the building. Then I saw the truth. All of it."

Jack winced.

That's it. There's no denying her when she saw the building.

The truth was that (Y/N) was right: she was hooked up to a machine that was putting her in a simulated perfect 50s town.

In the real world, Jack and (Y/N) were really married. They fell in love young and married right after they graduated university. Everything was great, until Jack lost his job. His company was on a fast downwards spiral that resulted in a number of employees getting terminated, and Jack was one of the unfortunate ones. (Y/N) was still trying to get a job within her field of study, so she was working a minimum wage retail job. While Jack was unemployed, (Y/N) had to carry the financial burdens, and that made Jack feel awful and useless.

Then he discovered Frank and Victory.

Frank promised a perfect world and a perfect life. All Jack needed to do was work for eight hours a day, as well as all the other men within their town, for Frank; for Victory. It was a small price to pay for him and (Y/N) to live their dream life.

And now all of that work was ruined. Frank would take care of (Y/N) for finding out, whatever that meant, and Jack would be exiled from Victory.

He had to sit down.

He lowered himself into a chair at their dining table. (Y/N) was still watching him. He wished she would just do whatever she planned to do; scream, break things, go right to Frank and tell him she knew about everything. Whatever the plan, he just wanted her to get it over with. The unknown silence was killing him.

"Why?" she finally asked. "Why did you do this?"

"For us," Jack said. "So we could live a better life."

"What was wrong with our life before?"

Jack scoffed. "Seriously? (Y/N), we were struggling. I was unemployed, you were working a shitty job. You were pulling all the financial weight, and I hate that all of that was on your shoulders."

"So instead of talking to me about your feelings, you hooked me up to a machine and put me into a simulation without my consent?"

Jack hung his head. There was no way to paint that part in a good light. He hadn't brought up Victory because he was afraid (Y/N) would reject the idea, and he couldn't take their real life for much longer.

"I just wanted to take care of you," Jack said, his voice small. "You were doing it for so long, and you never complained even though I know it was tough. I didn't want you to do it anymore, and Frank offered the perfect life for us."

He heard (Y/N)'s heels clicking against the tiled kitchen floor as she approached the table. He couldn't look up at her as she leaned on the table, basically towering over him.

"What happens if Frank finds out that I know?" she asked.

Jack shook his head. "I don't completely know. He just says he takes care of it."

"Did he take care of Margaret?"

He didn't ask her how she knew that Margaret had known the truth as well. It was probably pretty obvious now that she knew. Instead, he just nodded. "And he told Ted that if he didn't get Margaret under control, then he'd be fired from Victory."

"So, if Frank finds out, this is all over for both of us?"

He nodded again. He had a feeling he knew where she was going with this. She'd go tell Frank that she knew the truth about Victory, even though it would be a risk for her to do so. But the risk would be worth it if it meant Jack was fired from Victory, sent back to the reality that he was trying to desperately to save them from. Once they were back in their own reality, (Y/N) would no doubt divorce him as well. He'd deserve it, of course.

"Then I'll just have to get really good at keeping a secret."

Jack's head shot up quickly to look at (Y/N). There was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and there was something in her eyes as she looked at Jack.

"What do you mean?" he asked, dumbly.

"I mean, what you did was very fucked up. Like, extremely fucked up. Next time you're making big decisions like, I don't know, putting us in a fucking simulation, maybe talk to me about it first. But, with that being said...I'd be lying if I said I preferred our real life over this one."

Jack was stunned. This was not what he was expecting at all.

(Y/N) gestured for Jack to push his chair back. When given enough room, she sat herself on his lap and put her arms around his neck.

"We can't stay here forever," she told him. "We have real bodies that need to be taken care of, and families and people that will worry if we just disappear. But, it's hard to give up on this life. It's so...perfect."

"So what are you saying?" Jack asked.

"I'm saying we put a cap on how long we stay here. Give it...I don't know, another year. We let ourselves be happy, be worry free. Then, however we have to, we get out of here and we get to working on making our reality just as perfect as the simulation is."

"You'll have to go back to work."

She nodded. "I know. But I'm not opposed to working. I did get a whole degree so I could work my dream job, after all."

Jack put his arms around her. He wanted to pull her in close and not ever let her go, but he couldn't just yet. "Why?"

She furrowed her brows. "Why what?"

"Why aren't you more mad? Why aren't you going to tell Frank so that I get in trouble? Why do you want to stay here...stay with me?"

(Y/N) gave him a look like she thought he was being incredibly stupid before cupping his cheeks. "Because I love you, you idiot. And, like I said, the way you went about doing this was very stupid and wrong, but I know you did it because you love me, too. As long as you can agree with my deal, I don't see any reason to be mad and want to leave you."

Jack finally allowed himself to kiss her. It caught her off guard, which made her giggle against his lips. Every memory he had with her, both in the real world and in their simulation, came rushing back to him.

"I agree," he said. "I'll do whatever you want, I promise."

"Right now, I think I want to make love to my husband in our super cool retro bedroom," she told him. "Just to make sure I don't forget how to do that when we get back to the real world."

Jack smiled at her. "Oh, don't worry love. I won't let you forget."

[storiesforallfandoms]

BOOOOOO(p)!!! 👻

Reblog if you want to be booped! ♡

[storiesforallfandoms]

important business ~ roman godfrey;hemlock grove

word count: 2362

request?: no

description: she goes to visit him at work, and he decides her visit requires his undivided attention

pairing: roman godfrey x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, smut (unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, finger fucking, kind of voyeurism?, praise, multiple orgasms)

masterlist (one, two, three)

The sound of stilettos against the tile floors made Roman’s secretary’s ears perk up. There was only one woman who ever came to the Godfrey Institute.

(Y/N) Godfrey was already smiling as she came around the corner. It would look like a friendly smile to anyone else, it’d be friendly to the Institute employees even, if she wasn’t married to the owner of the company. (Y/N) was nice enough, but she had an intimidation to her as well. And Roman loved her so much that he would fire anyone who so much as upset her even a little.

(Y/N) leaned against the desk. “Hey Anne. Is Roman in? I got a text from him asking me to come by the office.”

“He’s in his office on a phone call,” the secretary, Anne, responded. “I can page him to let him know you’re here.”

“No bother. I’ll see myself in.”

Anyone else would be stopped immediately. No one else was allowed to interrupt Roman under any circumstances. But Anne already knew how this was gonna go. Asking to page Roman was only a formality at this point; a rouse of professionalism on both of their parts.

(Y/N) let herself into Roman’s office. He was sat forward, leaning against his desk with the phone in one hand, pressed against his ear. He glanced up as (Y/N) shut the door behind her. His face gave nothing away, but she knew it was his eyes to look at. They lit up the moment she walked into the room.

“Let me call you back, Paul,” Roman said into the phone. “My wife just got here.”

He hung up before hearing the response. (Y/N) raised a playful eyebrow. “I don’t think he’s going to appreciate you cutting him off like that.”

Roman waved away her comment. “Paul is an idiot who doesn’t know jack shit. Listening to him talk makes my brain melt, so I’ll take whatever excuse there is to not talk to him.”

“So, is that why you texted me? To be an excuse?”

“Of course not.���

Roman extended his arms, gesturing for (Y/N) to come closer. She smiled and crossed the room to him. He turned his desk chair to face (Y/N) as she moved around his desk. Roman wasted no time in pulling her onto his lap, moving her legs to straddle him. She was wearing a deep red dress that was knee length and tight to her body. It rode up her thighs as she sat on Roman’s lap, giving him access to cup her ass cheeks.

Roman’s lips found their way to her neck. Her eyes fluttered at the feeling of his soft lips kissing every inch of her neck. He found her sweet spot at the base of her neck, and began to suck at the sensitive skin. (Y/N) let out a moan. She quickly covered her mouth and pushed away from Roman as she remembered herself.

“Rom, we can’t!” she said. “We’re in your office. What if someone walks in?”

“Fuck ‘em. It’s my company. If they have an issue with me fucking my wife, they can start looking for a new job.”

(Y/N) wanted to be firm. It was definitely a bad idea to have sex in Roman’s office, in a building full of his employees who could walk in at any second. But also, it was incredibly hot to see how nonchalant he was being about wanting to fuck her in his office, as well as the general idea of fucking Roman in his office, was turning her on.

He picked her up suddenly, causing her to exclaim in surprise. He kicked the chair away from the desk and shoved anything in his way onto the floor. He placed (Y/N) onto the desk, shoving her dress up so it was bunched around her hips, completely exposing her lower half to him.

(Y/N) and Roman held eye contact as Roman lowered himself to his knees. She watched as he reached out to the intercom that had managed to stay on his desk. He clicked the speaker button and said, “Anne, cancel whatever I have scheduled for the next hour. Anyone comes looking form, I’m busy.”

Anne’s response came almost immediately, “Yes, Mr. Godfrey.”

“She definitely knows what’s happening now,” (Y/N) said.

“I’ll give her a big fat bonus for Christmas.”

Roman hooked a finger into her panties and pulled them to the side. She shivered as his hot breath hit her core. She was about to tell him not to tease her, but it seemed Roman didn’t intend on leaving her waiting for long. He dove into her like a starved man. His tongue immediately dove into her already wet pussy, darting in and out at a pace that was driving her crazy already. (Y/N) gripped Roman’s hair, still a little slick from the hair gel he had put in that morning.

He ran his tongue from her hole up to her clit. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive nub and began to slowly swirl his tongue around it. (Y/N)’s back arched in pleasure. She was biting her lip to try and stifle her moans. She nearly whimpered when he pulled away.

“Don’t you dare muffle those noises,” he told her. “I want the entire building to hear how good I make you feel.”

As if to punctuate his demand, he slipped a finger into her. (Y/N) gasped at the feeling. Roman smirked, satisfied with the noise. He went back to wrapping his lips around her clit while he fucked his finger in and out of her. It was nearly impossible to muffle herself now. To really make sure he got his request, Roman added a second finger and curled them to touch the spongey spot inside (Y/N).

She threw her head back and cried out Roman’s name so loud he was sure the entire floor could hear her. He smirked against her.

The lewd squishing sounds of Roman finger fucking her mixed with her moans filled the room. All of (Y/N)’s concerns about being heard or caught had disappeared completely. All she could think about was Roman; Roman’s tongue on her clit, Roman’s fingers inside of her, how badly she wanted to feel Roman’s dick stretching her out and fucking her ruthlessly.

“Roman,” she moaned. Her fingers curled tighter against his hair, grabbing at the roots and tugging harshly against his dark locks. Roman moaned into her at the feeling. “F-Fuck, I feel so close already.”

“Cum on my fingers then, baby,” he said. “That’s a good girl, let yourself go.”

Her orgasm ripped through her suddenly. She writhed against Roman’s lips, moaning and panting, Roman’s name slipping from her lips. He lapped at her, letting her ride out her high against his face.

When Roman pulled his fingers from her, she actually whimpered at the loss of contact. He stood from the floor, standing over her. He kept eye contact with her as he brought his two fingers to his mouth and sucked them between his lips. The dull ache of post-orgasm between her legs turned into an ache of desire as she watched him suck his fingers clean of her juices. His mouth and chin were still glistening with her.

He pulled her in for a kiss, and she could even taste herself on his lips. It was taking everything in her power not to rip Roman’s pants off right then and there.

As if reading her mind, Roman pulled away and started to unbuckle his belt. “Turn around and bend over the desk. Take your panties off, too, but leave the dress on.”

(Y/N) quickly did as he demanded. She slid her soaked panties down her legs and tossed them aside onto the office floor. She turned so her back was to Roman and bent herself over his desk, presenting herself to him. She heard the rustling of clothes as he undid his pants and pulled them down. Her heart was pounding with anticipation. She jumped when she felt one of his hands against her hip, then moaned upon feeling the hot head of his cock swiping through her folds. They hardly needed any further lubrication when she was already so wet.

He pushed into her at an agonizingly slow pace. She could feel every inch of him as she stretched out around him, until finally he was completely filling her. (Y/N) moaned at the feeling. Roman reached for one of her hands, intertwining their fingers together. It was a moment of sweetness before she knew what was to come.

Roman gave her just enough time to adjust to being stretched around him before he was ruthlessly pounding into her. The sound of his fingers inside of her had been replaced skin slapping against skin every time he thrusted inwards. With one hand, (Y/N) was still gripping onto Roman’s hand, while the other one was holding onto his desk for support. Not that she thought the desk was going to give much support since it felt like it was about to fall apart at any moment.

Through the haze of lust, (Y/N) managed to giggle at the thought. It was replaced quickly by a gasp when Roman’s other hand found its way to her hair and roughly pulled her off of the desk.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, still roughly fucking into her.

“I-I was thinking about if w-we broke your desk,” she admitted. “It sounds and feels like it may just collapse from under me.”

Roman chuckled at the thought as well. “I guess I’ll just have to get a new, better built desk that can handle just how rough I like to fuck my wife.”

He pushed her back down so that her chest was pressed against the desk again. He put his hand between her shoulder blades, holding her into place. He looked down to watch himself pull out then disappear completely into her. Her ass jiggled every time his pelvic bone met her there. She felt so good, so warm and wet wrapped around him, fitting perfectly around his cock.

There were many things Roman loved about his wife, and one of the top things was how it felt like she was made for him.

The sounds she was making was music to his ears. The feeling of her wrapped around him was heavenly. He never wanted to stop fucking her. If he had a choice - and didn’t have a company to run - he’d spend his days home with her, fucking her in every room of their house, on every surface, until they were both worn.

Roman felt his high creeping up on him. He brushed (Y/N)’s hair off of her face so he could see her. She was positively fucked out, her eyes glazing over with haze and her mouth just hanging open.

“Do you think you can give me one more, baby?” he asked her. “I’m getting close. I want us to cum together.”

She lazily nodded her head. He chuckled. “Do you think you can do it, or do you want my help?”

“No,” she said. “I can do it.”

The hand that wasn’t still holding Roman’s reached between her legs to start rubbing circles into her clit. She could feel him as she pressed on her clit, almost like she was tightening around him. It wasn’t going to take much to make her cum again, but she still quickened her pace so that Roman wasn’t waiting long. Next thing she knew, pressure was building up in her stomach again.

“I’m close,” she breathed.

“Hold on, baby, I’ll tell you when.”

Roman took hold of her hip with one hand, never letting go of her other hand, and thrusted harder. (Y/N) was crying out in pleasure at the feeling of him abusing her g-spot. Through gritted teeth he told her, “Now.”

They let go at the same time, (Y/N) pulsing around him as he coated her walls. He buried himself completely inside of her, making sure not a single drop was wasted. (Y/N) laid her head against the hard wood of Roman’s desk, trying to regulate her breathing.

It wasn’t long before Roman, begrudgingly, had to slip himself from her. He helped her to stand up from the table, although her legs were still shaky. He took her into his arms and brought her to the couch he had in his office so they could both sit down. (Y/N) settled back into Roman’s arms and rested against his chest.

“So this is why you texted me,” she said after a few moments of silence. “So we could fuck in your office.”

His chest vibrated as he laughed. “Can a man not ask to see his wife just because he wants to see her?”

“He can, but the second I walked through the door you were all over me.”

“Can you blame me when you walk in wearing this - “ He pulled at the hem of her dress, which she had almost forgot she was wearing. “ - looking so fucking sexy?”

She giggled as she snuggled further into his chest. “I guess it is partially my fault. Especially when my plan was to walk in here and get your attention dressed like this.”

“You always have my attention. This definitely helped though.”

They both laughed. Roman kissed the top of (Y/N)’s head. She moved so she was facing him and could kiss his lips.

“How much time do you think we have?” she asked him. “Since you asked Anne to clear your schedule for an hour.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. It definitely hasn’t been a full hour.”

“Well, let’s use the rest of that time wisely.”

Before he could ask what she meant, (Y/N) was moving to the floor to kneel between Roman’s legs. He smiled, putting his hands behind his head as he watched her pull his still unbuttoned pants down again.

Oh yeah, I am the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

[storiesforallfandoms]

another man in a red suit ~ spider-man x deadpool; marvel

word count: 3301

request?: no

description: in which the merc with the mouth meets the friendly neighborhood spider, and surprisingly, sparks fly

pairing: ryan reynolds!deadpool x andrew garfield!spiderman

warnings: swearing, lil angsty, mentions of death (mainly gwen and vanessa), wade being wade basically

masterlist (one, two, three)

Peter’s time in a different universe put a lot of things in perspective for him. Mainly that he needed to stop feeling guilty over Gwen’s death and trying exact some sort of vengeance on something or someone that didn’t exist. Helping the other Peters and getting to hear their own stories of the losses they went through made him realize it was time to move on and get back to doing what he did best: being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

That’s why he had a police radio in his room again. He listened in for any small crimes happening; robberies, car chases, even a bar brawl once. He didn’t want to deal with any mask or cape type crimes just yet. He was still tryin to work his way back to the bigger stuff after Gwen, and his time with the other Peters. So far, though, there hadn’t been any reports of any spandex type crime happening.

The day that there finally was drew Peter’s attention.

He was pulling on his suit to pursue a bank robbery when the voice of a police officer came over the radio, “Boss, there’s a man in a red suit on the scene.”

Peter paused, his mask ready to be pulled over his face.

“Spider-Man?” came a hopeful response. Peter was surprised with how happy the police were to have him back on the streets.

“No,” came the voice of the first officer. “It’s someone else. Red and black suit instead of red and blue. He’s entering the bank.”

“One of the robbers?”

“Unsure.”

Peter didn’t realize he had been approaching the radio until he was stood right next to it, waiting with baited breath to hear more about this unknown masked assailant.

It couldn’t have been either of the Peters he already met, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a version of Spider-Man. No one else knew about the multiverse like Peter did, so he couldn’t just take the word of this officer that it wasn’t a Spider-Man.

Suddenly, the officer’s voice filled the room, calling, “Shots fired! Red suit is opening fire!”

Wasting no more time, Peter pulled on his mask and leapt from his bedroom window.

He was sailing over the city with such urgency that he made it to the bank in a matter of seconds. He could see the police cars parked in front of the bank, several police stood with their guns aimed at the bank. He wondered why they hadn’t entered the building after hearing the gun shots.

He dropped in front of the bank just in time for the doors to open and the hostages to rush out of the building.

“Is everyone okay?” Peter asked as they rushed past him. “Is anyone hurt? Where are the robbers?”

Instead of the hostages responding, the unknown masked man exited the bank, putting his guns back into his holsters. “Fear not, people of New York! I have taken care of your bank robbers! No need to thank me, but if you must, I take keys to the city as payment.”

His eyes landed on Peter. For some reason, Peter found himself standing up straighter under his gaze.

The whites of the unknown man’s mask’s eyes widened. “Whoa. Spider-Man. What an honor!”

“Uh...thanks?” Peter said.

“Which one are you? Maguire or Holland?”

“What?”

“Oh! I got it! The suit, it’s Garfield. I should’ve known, but Sony really fucked you over so can you blame me?”

“What are you talking about?” Peter asked. “Who are you?”

“They call me Deadpool. But you, tiger, can call me anytime.”

Peter was just more confused. He had never heard of a “Deadpool” before. The voice didn’t seem familiar either. All signs were pointing to this being a new hero...or maybe something else. Peter wasn’t sure if heroes tended to saunter into banks and shoot robbers dead before the policer could intervene.

But before anyone could further question this “Deadpool”, he took off. The police yelled at him to stop, but he kept going, ignoring their calls. It took Peter a second to realize, then he started to chase after him. Deadpool took a hard left, disappearing between a few buildings. When Peter turned to go after him, he had vanished.

What the hell was all of that?

~~~~~~

Fir the first few days after the bank robbery, Peter was constantly on the look out for Deadpool. He listened in on his police radio for more frequently, and he did extra patrols over the city in hopes of spotting the masked man. When all attempts came up null, he eventually gave up. He figured maybe this guy had been some wannabe hero who changed his mind after the bank robbery.

For the most part, Peter was able to forget about Deadpool. Until he walked into his apartment one evening to find a man sat at his desk, feet kicked up next to the police radio. He was in the red suit Peter had been looking for for weeks, except his mask was off this time, revealing a scarred face and head.

“You don’t do a good job with hiding this,” he said, nodding to the radio. “What do you tell people it’s for? True crime podcast?”

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked.

“Oh good, you’re not gonna do the whole pretending your not Spider-Man act.”

Peter winced, realizing his mistake.

Deadpool swung his legs off of Peter’s desk and stood. “Alright, let’s get to the formalities, but for real this time. My name is Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool. I’m from a different universe, which I know sounds crazy - ”

“No,” Peter cut him off. “Trust me, I know all about the multiverse.”

“Oh. Well then, that makes all of this easy.”

“How did you find me?” Peter asked. “How do you even know I’m Spider-Man?”

“We had a Spider-Man in my universe,” Wade explained. “He was killed in a fight with Kingpen’s men. They revealed his identity was a man named Peter Parker.”

“And you assumed that meant every Spider-Man is Peter Parker?”

“You know about the multiverse. Do you know any universes where Spider-Man isn’t Peter Parker?”

Okay, he had a point there. “Although Peter was sure there were others who donned the Spider-Man mask besides a Peter Parker, he had no proof of that to counter Wade’s argument.

“So, why did you come looking for me?” Peter asked.

Wade shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not every day you meet another man in a red suit. I thought, maybe, you’d want to team up. Be two men in red suits fighting crime and whatnot.”

“You don’t plan on going back to your own universe?”

Wade shrugged again, except his shoulders seemed to sag a bit more when they dropped down again. “Not really. I - uh - don’t have anything to go back to there.”

There was definitely something there. Peter wasn’t in any place to push Wade for an explanation. They were still basically strangers. But after his tryst through the multiverse, he wanted to know what would make someone not want to return to their home. Even he wanted to go back, and his life had still been in recovery from Gwen’s death at the time.

Instead of prying, though, Peter asked, “Won’t your doctor wizard guy send you back eventually?”

“Oh, I don’t have a doctor wizard guy. I mean, we do, but he’s a British detective who solves crimes with a hobbit. I got here with a time travel watch that I figured out how to use to travel universes, too. It’s all very macguffin.”

Peter crossed his arms. He had never had a partner before. He never really needed one. And it was evident that Wade operated differently in his superhero-ing than Peter did. But, at the same time, he had enjoyed being a team with the other Peters. It was lonely being Spider-Man sometimes.

Finally, he said, “Maybe we could...try working together. See how it goes.”

Wade clapped his hands and, quite literally, did a jump for joy. He rushed for Peter and threw his arms around the younger man. Peter felt his face light on fire when Wade’s lips touched his cheek, planting a big kiss on him.

“You won’t regret this,” Wade assured him.

“We’ll see,” Peter muttered.

~~~~~~

For the most part, their partnership wasn’t too bad of an idea. They had exchanged numbers so they could keep in touch. Peter said whenever he heard of something go on over his radio, he’d call or text Wade, but most times Wade also knew when it was happening. Peter found out very quickly that it was no use telling Wade not to deal with criminals his way - which usually involved guns and swords and death or near death - because he was going to do it anyways.

People were talking about the new team. A lot of back and forth on whether or not Deadpool was actually a hero. The Daily Bugle had already taken the story of a mouthy anti-hero whose idea of “justice” involved a lot of injury and/or death and twisted it to make Spider-Man look bad. It was the first time in ages that Peter had heard from Jameson wanting pictures of both Spider-Man and Deadpool. If Peter didn’t need the money, he probably would’ve told Jameson exactly where to go and how to get there.

On one quiet night, Peter was perched on top of a building, watching the city below him. He always loved doing this. There was something kind of peaceful about just watching the city come to life below him, hearing only a dull murmur of the hustle and bustle.

“You’re looking very Batman,” came the all too familiar voice of Peter’s new teammate. “Like you’re about to descend upon a clown and ask him where Rachel is.”

Peter rolled his eyes, although he knew Wade couldn’t see it. He was also glad that the mask hid his smile.

Peter had grown very fond of Wade. Not that he would ever tell Wade that; it might inflate his already inflated ego a bit too much. But Peter couldn’t lie and say he didn’t view Wade as a friend now, as someone who brought Peter genuine joy even when they were bickering while fighting crime. 

“Just taking a moment to admire the city,” Peter told Wade. “You don’t get this a lot in New York. Not when there’s always crime to be fought.”

Wade walked up to where Peter was sat and looked over at the city below. “Wow. Yeah, you’re right. This is beautiful.”

“Where did you live in your universe?” Peter asked. Even though they had been working together for some time now, Peter still didn’t know too much about Wade’s life before arriving in this universe.

“I’m from Canada originally,” Wade replied. “But I moved to the States after I was discharged from the military. A lot easier to be a mercenary in a place where people don’t say sorry when you bump into them.”

Peter’s head quickly moved to look at Wade. “You were a mercenary? Like a hitman?”

“Basically like that, yeah. Don’t give me that look, tarantula man. The only difference in being in the Forces and being a mercenary is that I got paid better and I didn’t get PTSD from being a mercenary. Besides, I didn’t always kill my victims. Leaving them intimidated did the job just as well.”

Peter couldn’t picture Wade as being intimidating. Wade talked too much, had too much of a sarcastic demeanor. Although, if someone is threatening your life, then anyone could be intimidating he guessed.

“Is that why you came here?” Peter asked. “Because the mercenary stuff didn’t work out?”

Wade tensed. Peter knew he had hit a nerve. He had refrained from asking about Wade’s previous comment about having nothing to go back to his own universe for. It seemed to be a sore subject, and if Wade wasn’t going to bring it up himself then Peter wasn’t going to push. He was only asking now because it felt like Wade was opening up enough to slowly approach the topic. But now Peter was regretting it.

“It’s something like that,” Wade said. His voice was suddenly very serious, something that Peter wasn’t used to from Wade.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Peter said. “It seems like something personal, I shouldn’t push or anything.”

Wade, who had been wearing his full suit as well, pulled off his mask so that Peter could see his face. It was very hard, serious. But upon looking a little closer, Peter could see that there were tears forming along Wade’s lash lines. Peter pulled off his mask as well, feeling as though the two of them were being vulnerable enough not to have the fabric between them right now.

“While in America,” Wade began, “working as a mercenary, I met this woman. Her name was Vanessa. She was a...lady of the night, to put it in Marvel’s PG terms. It started out as some fun for pay, but eventually we did fall in love. I asked her to marry me. I thought I was going to spend my whole life with her. Then I found out I had cancer, that I was dying, and I did something stupid that led me to become...well, this.” He gestured to his scarred face. “I thought she’d never love me again because I was so hideous. But I was wrong, and she did still want to be with me.”

Peter smiled. “She sounds like a great person.”

Wade nodded, the tears becoming more obvious. “She was...until I got her killed.”

Suddenly, everything fell into place for Peter. Wade didn’t need to tell him anything else, because he had already lived this story.

“I let a target get away because it was mine and Vanessa’s anniversary,” Wade continued anyways. “And I was already late. I killed all his other men and he locked himself in a panic room and I just couldn’t wait anymore. I let him go, just for him to find me and Vanessa and...and I couldn’t stop him before...”

Wade hung his head and his shoulders shook as he sobbed. Peter felt a stab of empathy for the older man. He knew exactly what this felt like; to lose the person you love more than anything and for it to be your own fault.

Peter reached over to put his hand on Wade’s. Wade jolted a little, as if he forgot that Peter was there. He lifted his head so that Peter could see his tearstained cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter said, his voice soft. “I know what it’s like. My girlfriend...I was the reason she died, too. It...it fucked me up for a very long time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Wade said. “Has it gotten any easier?”

Peter wanted to say yes, because he wanted to believe that himself. But the truth was, even though he had gotten back to his normal self for the most part, and even though Wade had been a perfect distraction, Peter still dreamed about Gwen. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her terrified face as she plummeted to her death. Every time he woke with a start and would lay awake for hours trying to forgive himself for what had happened.

So he answered honestly, “No. They say it will eventually, but I don’t think the pain ever completely goes away.”

Wade nodded, and mumbled a soft, “Yeah.” He seemed to be talking to himself more than Peter, though.

Peter looked down at their joined hands. He hadn’t realized that a comforting pat had turned into him holding Wade’s hand. It didn’t seem like Wade noticed either, or maybe he just didn’t mind. Peter’s face felt hot despite the cool New York air that was blowing against it. He wasn’t sure why the thought of holding Wade’s hand was making him feel a little embarrassed. Or maybe embarrassed wasn’t the right word. He didn’t actually feel embarrassed, but why else would he be blushing?

“You good over there, Spidey?”

Peter snapped out of his thoughts to look at Wade. “What? Yeah.”

Wade gave him a look. “You seem...deep in thought.”

“What? No! No, not at all. Just...no.”

Wade’s smug smile was back on his face. He pulled away from Peter, and Peter found himself a little disappointed when his hand was empty again.

“Well, I guess that’s enough emotion for tonight,” Wade said. “Thanks for letting me trauma dump. Therapies too expensive these days, and being a crime fighter doesn’t come with any sort of insurance.”

Peter swung his legs around to hop back onto the roof. “Yeah, anytime. And, if it helps any, I...I’ve been really enjoying your company.”

Wade turned to look at Peter. “Really?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t going to say anything because I didn’t want to inflate your ego or anything, but it’s been nice to have a partner. You...you have helped me take my mind off of Gwen since we started working together.”

“You’ve helped me, too,” Wade admitted. “Honestly, until tonight, I haven’t thought about Vanessa as much. I mean, I still have dreams about her.”

Peter nodded. “Those don’t ever go away.”

“I figured they wouldn’t. But I have enjoyed this partnership. I think it’s been really beneficial for the both of us.”

“I do, too.”

The two of them fell silent, just standing there, facing one another. Peter wasn’t sure what the next step was here. What he did know was that it felt like he couldn’t move. He was paralyzed in place, just facing Wade. Wade seemed to almost be studying Peter for some reason.

Next thing Peter knew, Wade had his hands on Peter’s face and was pulling him in. His brain could hardly comprehend the action before he felt Wade’s lips on his.

Peter’s first reaction was to push Wade away, but his body reacted different. His lips moved to kiss Wade back instead, which shocked himself. Peter had only ever been with women before. Well, actually, he had only ever been with Gwen. He had never even entertained the idea of being with a man before. But there was something about kissing Wade that felt...right.

Wade pulled away first, which came as a shock to Peter.

“Sorry,” Wade said. “Got caught up in the moment there.”

“Oh, no. Don’t apologize. That’s...it was alright.”

“Yeah?” Peter nodded. “Jesus, I feel like a fucking high schooler again.”

Peter laughed. “Yeah, I feel that. I haven’t felt awkward like this since I was trying to ask out one of the cheerleaders at my school.”

“You asked out a cheerleader?”

“Tried. I wimped out and ran away like a total loser before I could even say her name.” Peter chuckled at the memory. “She would’ve said no anyways, so maybe the way I handled it was less humiliating.”

Wade chuckled as well. “Look, we’re both still going through some trauma. It may be a little too soon to try and find something else, but whenever you’re ready, I’d really like to take you to pound town.”

Peter screwed up his face. “That’s...romantic.”

“Hey, I’m just being honest. I’d like a relationship, but also I’ve seen your ass in those spandex and it’s made my pants a little tighter.”

Peter’s face was on fire again. It was enough to make Wade laugh. Peter quickly pulled his mask back on to hide himself.

“I think I’ve mostly handled my grief,” he told Wade. “But I understand needing time. I think, whenever you’re ready, I would like to see where this could go between us.”

Wade nodded. “That sounds like a deal to me.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

making amends ~ bucky barnes;marvel

word count: 2528

request?: no

description: in which she finds out that their three year relationship started by him trying to make amends for his brainwashed past

pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty angst, use of y/n, mentions of bucky’s winter soldier past, mentions of an incident that left the reader in critical condition

masterlist (one, two, three)

(Y/N) placed the basket of clothes on her and Bucky’s bed. Bucky was away, and she had the day off, so she decided to do a clean of the whole house. She had just finished a load of laundry that had been waiting to be washed for at least two weeks. That included Bucky’s laundry, which he usually did himself but he had also let it pile up the last few weeks.

After folding it, (Y/N) turned to Bucky’s dresser to put his clothes away. When she opened the top drawer, she noticed something tucked away. She pulled it out and found it was a small moleskin journal. She hadn’t seen it before. Before she could consider what it might be for, or why Bucky might be hiding it away, she opened it.

It was a list of names. (Y/N) didn’t recognize any of them, but they were undoubtably written in Bucky’s writing. There were pages of names, some of which were crossed out. (Y/N) knew about Bucky’s past - about being a man out of time who was once a brainwashed weapon for Hydra. She began to wonder if these names were people he once knew. Maybe family of his old friends from the 40s, or whoever was still alive from then.

That seemed like a reasonable explanation, until she saw her name was one of the ones crossed out.

She backed up until her legs collided with the bed. She fell back to a sit, staring long and hard at her own name.

Why am I included in Bucky’s journal? she thought. Was he looking for me? And if so, why?

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear Bucky coming home. Suddenly, he was stood in the doorway to the bedroom. (Y/N) looked up at him, still with a look of confusion on her face. Bucky had been smiling, but when his eyes fell onto the book, his smile faded. His reaction made her heart sink. She would feel guilty for looking through his stuff under different circumstances, but now all she could think of was what the journal was for.

Bucky broke their silence first, “Where’d you find that?”

“It was in your top drawer,” she replied. Quickly, she added, “I found it while putting the laundry away. I didn’t think...” She trailed off, looking back down at the book. “What is this?”

Bucky ran his hand through his hair and sighed. There was no use in lying about it. He had to come clean eventually. “You know how we’ve talked about my time as the Winter Soldier? All the bad I did while I was under their control?”

She nodded. Of course, how could she ever forget? He had opened up to her very early on in their relationship about what he had gone through under Hydra’s control. He told her because he said he didn’t want to keep secrets from her, and he wanted to give her the opportunity to leave before the relationship got too serious if what he did changed her opinion on him. It was a shock, especially since she was a former SHIELD agent who had heard plenty of stories about the infamous Winter Soldier, but she assured him that her opinion on him hadn’t changed. “You are not that person,” she ahd told him.

“When Shuri deprogrammed me,” he explained, “and when I started going to therapy, my therapist suggested finding a way to make amends for all the bad I did. That book is a list of people I hurt...or-or killed as the Winter Soldier. I’ve met with most of them, or their remaining families, and done whatever I could do to make amends.”

(Y/N) looked at all the names again. All people from Bucky’s past. People he hurt when he didn’t even have control over his own body and mind. The crossed out names were people he felt he had made amends with.

Her name was one of the ones crossed out.

“Why am I here?” she asked. Her voice was so soft he may not have heard it if he didn’t have enhanced hearing.

“Do you remember that mission you went on that resulted in you leaving SHIELD?”

(Y/N) tensed. She remembered, although very slightly. She had some gaps in her memory from that night, but she remembered the most important part: that she had almost died.

The details of the mission were one of the foggy things. All she could remember was being sent to a supposed Hydra base with other SHIELD agents. She had gone off by herself. She was moving down what she thought was an empty hallway. That’s where her memory stopped. Next thing she knew, she had woken up in a hospital bed days later. Fury didn’t tell her many details, just that she was attacked and nearly lost her life. Another agent had luckily found her before it was too late.

Fury had offered to let (Y/N) be off as long as she needed. He assured her that her job would be waiting for her when she was ready to come back. Instead, (Y/N) quit on the spot.

When she finally dared to look up at Bucky, she saw that he was crying. She had been holding back her own emotions, but seeing Bucky break was enough to make her finally break too.

“It was me,” Bucky admitted, his voice breaking. “I did that to you.”

(Y/N)’s hands clutched the journal. She was tempted to rip it to shred and leave the pieces scattered all over the bedroom floor. Their bedroom floor. The bedroom in the house that they had bought together nearly a year ago.

“Was any of it real?”

She didn’t mean to say it out loud. It was a thought that slipped through her filter before she could stop herself. But it was also a question she needed an answer on. She had already spent three years of her life with Bucky, and had planned to spend the rest of it with him, too. But if all of this was just a way for him to “make amends” with her...that would’ve hurt her worse than finding out that the man she loved was the reason she almost died.

Although, that wasn’t Bucky. That’s what she had been telling him since he first told her about the Winter Soldier. He wasn’t in control, he didn’t know what he was doing. He was made to think he was a weapon to be used against anyone Hydra viewed as an enemy, and at that point in time, (Y/N) was the enemy in question.

But it was Bucky who had lied to her for three years. Post-brainwashed Bucky, who knew this whole time that he had hurt her when he was under Hydra’s spell. Who had sought her out to “make amends”, and just so happened to end up in a relationship with her.

Bucky seemed hurt by the question. “Of course! Of course, all of it was real. All of this is real.”

“You say that like it’s an outrageous thing to ask, but how can I not think that maybe this is how you decided to ‘make amends’ with me?”

She was standing now. She didn’t even notice she had stood, but now she was looking Bucky in the eye.

“Three years, Buck,” she continued. “We’ve been together for three years. You had so much time to tell me this, and you never did. Were you ever going to? Or were you just going to let me believe that we met by chance in a grocery store and fell in love and it was all happily ever after?”

“I tried to tell you,” he said. “When I first told you about my past, I wanted to tell you then. That was the whole reason I told you. But then you were being so understanding and kind, and you were making me feel less like a monster, I just...I couldn’t. I thought if I told you then...that you wouldn’t have been as understanding.”

“Bucky, I’m not upset or mad or scared of you because of what happened. I know that wasn’t you. That’s what I’ve been saying for ages, that you’re not the Winter Soldier. What I am upset about is that you didn’t tell me about this amends thing. You didn’t even mention that it was something you did. I had to find out three years into our relationship, which now has me questioning whether or not this whole thing was just a way for you to make amends with me.”

“No! No, (Y/N), it’s not - ”

He reached out for her and she took a step back. They both paused as (Y/N) realized what she did. She had done it out of anger, but the look in Bucky’s eyes told her that he was afraid she was doing it out of fear, too. That one look was enough to make her anger turn to sympathy. She was still angry, and she was sure that anger wasn’t going anywhere, but she could understand Bucky’s hesitance in telling her about the attack. That just wasn’t the issue she was currently having.

“How did you plan to make amends with me?” she asked. “Because if taking me out on that first date was your plan, I’m going to be so upset and hurt - ”

“No, not at all,” he cut her off. “We met ages before I asked you on a date, remember? You said it yourself, it was at the grocery store.”

“Had you been looking for me, though? Was that actually a chance encounter, or did you look for me?”

He hesitated before responded, “I had looked for you. You were one of the few people who were already in New York, so I went looking to find out where you lived and figured out which places you were likely to visit in that area. I didn’t follow you or anything, but I did go to some of those places frequently to try and run into you.”

(Y/N) didn’t think about the slight creepy and stalker way that sounded. She had to remind herself he was saying he didn’t do that to try and start a relationship with her.

“We got to talking, and you told me about the issues you were having in your apartment,” he said. “You said your landlord was a piece of shit and didn’t offer any help whenever you needed it. So, I offered to help. Remember, I was there basically a whole day just fixing whatever issues you had?”

She remembered. She had been hesitant to accept the offer from a strange man she had only met moments before in a grocery store, but her old apartment was basically falling apart. She had done the best she could to fix whatever she knew how, but there were still so many issues, and her landlord kept blowing her off whenever she had talked to him about it. She was desperate. Not to mention she still had her SHIELD training if Bucky had ended up trying to pull anything while he was there.

“That was my amends,” he told her. “I knew it could never measure up to what I did to you, but it was something you needed done and I helped you. I crossed you off the list then and there, and I completely left you alone. I hadn’t thought about you for months after that, until...”

“Until we ran into each other on the street,” she remembered.

It was three or four months after Bucky had fixed up her apartment when she saw a familiar face walking the packed sidewalk of New York. She had been the one to initiate the conversation then. Bucky hadn’t even seemed to notice her until she waved him down and called out his name.

“And you basically begged for my number so we could keep in contact,” he reminded her. “I tried to stay away. I knew it was wrong, sick even, for me to get involved with you at all. But you had these big, pleading eyes, and you wouldn’t really take no for an answer. And then we got to talking, and one thing led to another and I found myself asking you on a date.”

When Bucky stepped towards her, reaching for her again, (Y/N) didn’t pull away. Instead, she let him take her into his arms. He was slow, giving her the option to pull away if she wanted to, and when she didn’t he pulled her all the way to him. She rested her head on his chest as he put his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m so sorry I never told you,” he said. “I know I should’ve. It’s eaten away at me for so long. But at time went on, I just fell more and more in love, and I was scared. I was selfish. You never should’ve had to find out this way.”

(Y/N) sighed. “No, I shouldn’t have. You should’ve told me when things really started to get serious. Especially about the amends stuff.”

“I know. I’m sorry, doll.” He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering against her hair. “I understand if you need time to process everything. Like I said, I know it was wrong to pursue a relationship after what I did to you - ”

“How many times will I have to remind you that you are not the Winter Soldier?” she asked, pulling away so she could look at him. “Honestly, knowing that doesn’t affect our relationship. I fell in love with Bucky Barnes, the kind man who is carrying such a large burden on his shoulders because of other people who are actually evil. That part of the story isn’t what upsets me. It’s finding out that I was on an amendment list and not knowing how much of this relationship was actually real.”

Bucky cupped her face with his flesh hand, almost like he was afraid of her reaction to his metal arm now that she knew the truth. “All of it is real. I love you so, so much, (Y/N). I can’t imagine my life without you.”

She leaned into his touch. “I love you, too.”

He pulled her in for a kiss, but she pulled away. “You’ll have to add me back to that list.”

He looked at her, confused. “What?”

“After learning about all of this, you have to make a new amendment with me. Say, breakfast in bed? Oh, or maybe that puppy you keep conveniently forgetting we agreed to get?”

He smiled and pulled her to him again. When he kissed her, she didn’t pull away.

“I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll give you the whole world if it proves to you how much I love you.”

(Y/N) giggled. “Let’s start smaller with the puppy instead.”

Bucky chuckled. “Deal. We’ll go to the pound next week.”

“Tomorrow.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “Fine. Tomorrow.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

icdiwabh ~ joseph quinn

word count: 3688

request?: no

description: after finding out that her recently broken up with ex is already in a new relationship, she puts on a happy face for the public. but she can't do the same with him

pairing: joseph quinn x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty angst, rpf, use of y/n

based on this song

masterlist (one, two, three)

To give her credit, my best friend and guitarist, Chloe, tried her best to keep me from looking at my phone before our show. And it was working. I didn't even think anything of it, just that we were goofing off before a show as usual.

And then my phone chimed with a text from my mom. She always sent me a good luck text before a show. I unlocked my phone to respond, then saw that my social media notifications were blowing up more than usual.

I shouldn't have looked, but you know what they say about curiosity and the cat.

I opened Twitter to see I was being mentioned a lot. Mainly in replies to other tweets, and most of the tweets were along the lines of, "What happened to @(Y/U/N)?" I clicked on one to see what that context was, and was brought to a tweet from Pop Crave.

"Joseph Quinn photographed on a date with Doja Cat," followed by various photos of my ex-boyfriend getting cozy with another woman.

I felt my heart drop and break into millions of pieces.

I know what you're thinking: why would seeing my ex moving on hurt so much? It's not like we were together. We were both free to see whoever we wanted now. But there were a few reasons this news was upsetting; for one, we had only broken up three months ago, which apparently is around the time when these pictures were taken. Second, Joseph had broken up with me due to the fact that I was a singer, which meant we didn't get to spend as much time together as either of us would've wanted. I understood at the time. I mean, of course the break up still hurt, but I kind of knew it was coming when things between us had felt different the last month or so of our relationship.

Then there was the biggest reason: Doja was the woman he told me not to worry about.

I am not joking.

Joseph and I were together when the whole Doja versus Noah stuff happened online. We both laughed about it at the time, and i had jokingly asked Joseph, "Should I worry about you getting stolen away by Doja Cat?" He had wrapped me in his arms, kissed me, and said of course not.

Obviously, that had changed.

Chloe found me just as the tears started to fall. She was quick to hug me and whisper comforting words.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she said. "But we have to get to the stage."

Performing was the last thing on my mind, but I had thousands of fans waiting for me. I couldn't let them down just because I was heartbroken.

I followed Chloe to take my place. I wiped the tears from my eyes, hoping my face wasn't too red or puffy. Our backstage crew passed me my microphone as the countdown for the show to start started in my earpiece. I took a deep, calming breath, pushing everything out of my mind. As the blinding stage lights hit me, I put on my best show smile.

~~~~~~

The next few weeks were tough. I had to go on a full social media hiatus, meaning I deleted all social media apps from my phone to keep myself from seeing any more updates on Joseph and Doja. Chloe took up posting on my accounts so no one suspected anything. We had already decided the best course of action was to ignore the questions and comments, and to pretend like the news didn't even hurt me.

But it did. It hurt me more than any words could ever describe. Having to go on stage two to three nights a week and sing the love songs I wrote about him made it even harder. I struggled to keep it together on stage sometimes. I saved the emotions for when I'd get back to the hotel or the tour bus. Then I'd be able to cry until my eyes hurt and were too heavy to stay awake.

Some nights were sleepless, though. On those nights, I'd usually just lay awake or try to use one of the streaming services on my phone to distract myself. One night, I found myself too hungry to be distracted. My stomach was rumbling enough that I could hardly hear the show I was watching. After some quick Googling, I found a 24 hour diner that seemed like it would be slow enough for me to go without being recgonized.

I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy hoodie with the hood up to cover my face. I put my phone and my hotel room key in my pocket, and left to make my way to the diner.

As I expected, there weren't many people there. Maybe one table with two young ladies sat there, plus the workers. I kept my hood up anyways as I ordered, just in case. The host who took my order did look at me like he may have known who I was, but he didn't say anything.

My plan was to get my food and take it back to the hotel to eat it. But that plan was quickly changed when a familiar British voice said, "(Y/N)?"

I froze. There was no way he was actually here. It had to be a figment of my imagination. A hallucination made up by my misery over the breakup and his quick moving on.

But when I looked up, there he was. He was also in a hoodie and sweatpants, but was doing less to hide his identity. Actually, nothing to hide his identity. I couldn't help but glance around to make sure no one was looking at us or there was no paparazzi that had followed him and started snapping photos.

"How did you know it was me?" I asked, then realized it was a stupid question and winced at myself.

"That's...um...my hoodie."

I looked down and realized that he was right. I hadn't even noticed that I had it, even when I packed it for the tour.

"I was wondering where it went," he said with a little smile.

"Here it is," I said, lamely flourishing my hands. "I'd offer to give it back, but I'm not wearing anything underneath."

I saw him swallow at my comment. I thought I saw a tinge of pink creeping onto his cheeks, but I figured it must've been the lighting or something. There was no way I could still make him blush when he obviously had no feelings for me anymore.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm in town shooting the Fantastic Four movie," he explained. "I just finished a late shoot, so I stopped in for something to eat. What are you doing here?"

"I had a show tonight. I couldn't sleep, and I'm hungry. So..." I did my lame flourish again.

"Oh yes. The post-show adrenaline."

I ground my teeth to keep from saying anything. The weeks of sadness and misery suddenly vanished and became anger. I was angry at him for reminding me that he knew me so well. That we had shared memories on sleepless nights like this. I was also angry that he didn't think our breakup and his quick moving on would be the cause of my sleeplessness. Did he think I didn't know? Or just that I'd be okay with him and his new girlfriend mere weeks after our two year long relationship ended?

I just shrugged in response.

My order was called and I quickly grabbed it. I turned to give Joseph a wave as a goodbye. I needed to get out of there and get back to my hotel room to wallow in my dispair.

But it seemed Joseph had other plans, as he stopped me before I could leave. "Do you want to sit? Maybe...catch up?"

"Is that a good idea?" I asked.

"I don't see why it wouldn't be."

"You don't want your new girlfriend to see paparazzi photos of you with your ex."

There, it was finally out. No more tiptoeing around the topic.

It seemed to have its desired effect as Joseph was now awkwardly shuffling. He rubbed the back of his neck, which was now undoubtably turning pink. "So, you've heard."

"Of course I heard!" I snapped. I glanced around again, realizing I was raising my voice. "Your pictures are everywhere, and I'm being tagged in them cause we never told everyone we had broken up."

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

I scoffed. "How else was I going to find out? Were you going to call me and tell me you were dating the girl you said wasn't a threat to our relationship?"

He sighed. Before he could say anything else, they called that another order was ready, and evidently it was his. It was also packed in a to go bag, so he clearly had no intentions of staying either. With any luck, he'd drop this stupid idea of sitting down for a "catch up" and let me leave to deal with all the emptions I was feeling.

But of course, luck was not on my side.

Joseph grabbed his food and turned back to me. "Just...sit with me for 15 minutes at least. Let me explain."

Even though I very much wanted an explanation, I said, "You don't have to explain anything."

"Just...please, (Y/N)."

And that's how I found myself sat in a booth that was tucked away, in the middle of the night with my ex-boyfriend.

It was a bad idea, and I knew that. Besides the fact that I definitely should not be sitting down with the ex that I had been in shambles over for weeks, it was also a bad idea publicity wise. Joseph wasn't trying to hide himself. Anyone could see us and snap a picture, or call paparazzi to make a quick buck. Even with me trying to hide myself, someone would eventually put the pieces together to realize it was me. Then we'd have a whole new shit show on our hands.

I opened my food and started to eat. There was no point in letting it go cold and completely ruin my night. Joseph wasn't as quick to do the same. He was watching me. When I realized he wasn't eating, I made a gesture for him to start talking.

"Is there anything specific you want to know?" he asked.

Well, that was a stupid question. There was a lot I wanted to know. So much so that I knew we'd be here way longer than 15 minutes if I asked it all.

I decided to ask him the most prominent question on my mind: "Did you leave me for her?"

He seemed stunned by my question. "No! No, of course I didn't. Why would you think that?"

I gave him a look. "Come on, Joseph. We both know why I'd think that."

He shuffled in his seat. "It's not like that."

"Then explain it. That's the whole reason I'm sat here."

So he did. He told me he met Doja (he used her real name, which made my stomach churn) at her concert. He had gone with a few friends, and when she found out he was there she brought them backstage to meet her. He swore it was all casual at first, that they were just friendly and were making light of the situation between her and Noah. When things started changing, he swore it was just a rebound thing.

"I never meant for it to become anything more," he insisted. "I was still so hurt. I just wanted something that would take my mind off of the pain."

I couldn't hold back the scoff that escaped my lips. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," I said. "I'm just so sorry to hear that you were hurting."

"What, you don't think our breakup was hard for me?"

"Weirdly enough, no, I didn't think you took things hard when you dumped me."

Joseph sighed. "It wasn't - "

"And you know what else?" I cut him off. "You told me you found it hard for us to be together because of our professions. And, honestly, I understood! If you weren't away filming, I was away touring. If you weren't doing press for a movie or show, I was doing press for an album. It wasn't easy, and while I was willing to go through those strifes for us, I did understand how it could be too difficult for you. But then you turned around, not even a month after you dumped me, and started dating another singer."

He was quiet. He couldn't even meet my eye.

I felt a lump forming in my throat, and my voice cracked as I said, "If you didn't love me anymore, you could've just said that."

He looked up at me quickly. "That's not - "

He was cut off again. Not by me this time, but by his phone. Someone was calling him. When I looked at the screen, I saw her name. It felt like a knife directly through my heart.

I packed my food and stood. Joseph looked like he was going to say something, but I put a hand up to stop him. "Answer your girlfriend, Joseph."

He didn't try to stop me when I left this time.

~~~~~~

As I expected, photos of Joseph and I got out. I didn't know to what extent as I still wasn't back on social media. My manager confronted me about it and I explained what had happened. She wasn't upset as I wasn't the one who hadn't been concealing my identity, and she agreed that the best course of action was just to ignore everything until it blew over.

Another two months passed and the tour finally ended. It became easier to perform as the time went on. Not completely easy, and I did have a night or two where I slipped up and got emotional on stage, but eventually I was able to put the meanings of my songs aside and just performed them for my fans. I knew some nights weren't as great as others, but I got through it, and finally I was going to have a break.

Chloe reluctantly agreed to let me have my social media back. I was still hurting a little, but I told her I couldn't isolate myself forever. It just wasn't healthy. Besides, I would need something to keep me occupied while I was home, besides just watching mind numbing reality TV. She finally relented when I told her she could watch me block the words "Joseph Quinn" and "Doja Cat" on all social media so that I wouldn't have to see any posts about them.

I was honestly surprised to find that I didn't want to look up anything to do with them. For a long time, the desire to know about their relationship was eating away at me. There were so many specifics I felt like I needed to know, but I eventually realized that I was just going to hurt myself further if I looked into them. Of course, I didn't completely stop thinking about Joseph. I didn't expect to. We had been together for two years, almost moved in with one another. I thought we were going to get married. You don't just let that go easily. But at least it was getting a little easier to live in a world where he was no longer mine.

On one particularly nice day, I decided to go out on the balcony to read. It was one of those fall days where the sun was out and there was a little heat coming from it, but not enough that it was unbearable. A slight breeze would blow through every so often, just cool enough to keep it tolerable outside. I was laid back in one of my deck chairs, engrossed in my book to a point that I hadn't heard someone approaching.

"Must be an interesting novel."

I jumped at the sound of a voice coming from my driveway below. I bookmarked my page and sat up to see the last person I wanted to be around. "What are you doing here, Joseph?"

"I just got back from filming."

"Good for you."

"I...I was hoping you were home."

"Well, you see that I am. Don't let the gate hit you on the way out."

"(Y/N), can we just talk?"

I stood from my seat and leaned over the balcony railing to look at him. "We said all there was to say in that diner months ago. There's nothing else to be talked about. Besides, do you want more pictures of us to come out? I'm sure Doja wouldn't be happy to see her man making a personal visit to his ex's place."

"We broke up!"

I stopped. "What?"

"Last month. It was all over social media, or so Lupita tells me." He tilted his head. "You didn't hear?"

"I-I blocked yours and Doja's names on social media so I wouldn't have to see any tweets or posts about you."

Joseph looked at me for a moment before barking out a laugh. I couldn't help but put a hand over my face as I laughed as well. Of course, by trying to block him out completely, I had totally missed the one thing I would've wanted to see.

I was a bit reluctant, but eventually I invited Joseph to come up. He knew his way through my place, he had been there enough times. I sat back down on my deck chair and pulled another one closer to me, as he appeared in the glass doorway. He sat down next to me and memories of all the times we had been out here flooded back to me.

"I wasn't done talking that night in the diner," he said. "I still had so much to say, and I have even more to say now."

"I didn't want to hear it," I admitted. "In my mind, after hearing how you and Doja got together, it just made more sense if you had broken up with me because you didn't love me anymore."

He shook his head. "It wasn't that at all. I never stopped loving you."

I was itching to ask him if that meant he still loved me now, but instead I said, "Then why?"

"I broke up with you because I loved you so much," he said. "Because loving you but not getting to spend time with you hurt so much, and I knew there was no way around that. When I started getting more job offers I knew things were just going to get so much busier for me, and that our already very short time together was going to dwindle down more and more, and I hated the thought of that."

"I would've taken a break," I told him.

"I couldn't ask you to do that. You love making music and performing. I could never ask you to stop doing that, or to change that. I thought the best thing for you would be if you could find someone who wasn't as busy, and who'd be able to go on tour with you and be at all your shows. Someone who wouldn't be in a different time zone basically 11 months out of a year and only be able to call you for an hour max every night."

"But what if that's not what I want?" I asked. "Yes, it was hard not to get to see you all the time, but I never would've traded that for anything else. I was so proud of you for all those roles you were getting, and even if I only got to talk to you for a few minutes, I loved getting to hear what you were doing. Because you were achieving your dream, and I got to be there to experience it. I don't want someone who can be with me all the time, I want you."

I hadn't noticed that we were both sat on the edge of our chairs. We were so close we were almost touching. I could smell the familiar scent of his cologne and it was making my heart skip a few beats.

"I should've talked to you instead of deciding just to end things," he said, his voice soft and quiet.

"You should've," I agreed. "And then if you were going to rebound, you shouldn't have done it with the girl you told me not to worry about."

He awkwardly chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, not my finest moment."

I sat back in my chair, although I didn't want to. I wanted to keep being this close to him, or maybe to get closer. "So why did you two breakup anyways?"

"She was nice and all, but she wasn't you."

We sat in silence, letting his words sink in. He was looking at me, almost like he was waiting. Maybe I was waiting, too, to see where that confession was supposed to go. After a few moments, my body moved before my mind could comprehend what was happening. I quickly leaned forward, nearly putting myself on Joseph's lap, and started kissing him. He kissed me back immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me the rest of the way onto his lap.

"I missed you," he mumbled against my lips.

"I missed you too," I admitted. I pulled away to add, "But don't think you're completely off the hook. You did still hurt me, you know."

"I know I did. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for it if I have to."

I smiled. "I think I like the sound of that."

He smiled back at me and pulled me back in for another kiss. Eventually, my book was abandoned on the balcony, and the large blinds were closed to keep from anyone being able to see the reunion happening inside.

[storiesforallfandoms]

Dame Maggie Smith as Muriel Donnelly The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (2015)

[storiesforallfandoms]

hi hi hiiiiii, i wanted to start this off with saying am in love with you. like your writing? perfection. the fact you do this for all of us? so gorgeous. this one is weird? kinda, maybe. skeet ulrich x matthew lillard x reader, current time. you go to that convention where you talk and meet them, and you got the thing where you can go back and get a picture with them. you ask them (as respectfully as possible lol) if the pose you guys can do is eiffel tower (your head in one of their crotches and your ass in the others crotch). they’re like shocked and stuff (idk why but i see the reader pulling out their id and being like trust me, i’m of age). banter and them agreeing to it, then when you leave you notice something in your pocket, like a note or something saying one of their room number and smut ensues. thank you

Done! I hope you like it!

[storiesforallfandoms]

an out there request ~ matthew lillard & skeet ulrich

word count: 4740

request?: yes!

“hi hi hiiiiii, i wanted to start this off with saying am in love with you. like your writing? perfection. the fact you do this for all of us? so gorgeous. this one is weird? kinda, maybe. skeet ulrich x matthew lillard x reader, current time. you go to that convention where you talk and meet them, and you got the thing where you can go back and get a picture with them. you ask them (as respectfully as possible lol) if the pose you guys can do is eiffel tower (your head in one of their crotches and your ass in the others crotch). they’re like shocked and stuff (idk why but i see the reader pulling out their id and being like trust me, i’m of age). banter and them agreeing to it, then when you leave you notice something in your pocket, like a note or something saying one of their room number and smut ensues. thank you”

description: after she makes a lucrative pose suggestion for a picture, she doesn’t expect for that pose to become a reality

pairing: matthew lillard x female!reader x skeet ulrich

warnings: rpf, swearing, smut (threesome, fingering, oral f & m receiving, praise, p in v (protected), multiple orgasms)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I grinded my teeth as the person ahead of me went in for their photo ops. I should’ve been excited. I was meeting two of my heroes. I had spent so much money on the passes, on the hotel and travel. I had waited ages for this day. I should’ve been beyond excited for this moment.

Except I had to ruin it with a stupid bet with my friends that would decide what pose I did for the picture.

A bet which I then lost.

I looked over to where they were waiting for me. They were snickering to themselves. I wanted to glare at them, but my nerves and mortification were the only emotions I could muster.

“Next.”

They waved at me, still giggling to themselves, as I walked in.

My other emotions were immediately replaced with shock when I saw Skeet and Matthew. It was almost like I was only just realizing they were real people. They were laughing when I walked in, and it really did sound like the most beautiful sound. When they saw me, they smiled and I could’ve melted into a puddle right there.

“Hey!” Matthew said first, opening his arms to hug me. I happily walked into his welcoming embrace and immediately thought, He’s just as good of a hugger as the videos make him seem.

Skeet greeted me with a hug as well. I hoped they couldn’t feel how much I was shaking, but I realized they had probably seen that multiple times already.

“Nice to meet you,” Matthew said after I pulled away from Skeet’s hug.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” I admitted. “You guys have probably been hearing that all day.”

“Doesn’t make it any less meaningful to hear,” Skeet said.

 “Let’s pose, guys, we have a line up,” the photographer said. He sounded bored, like he was tired of having this same scene play out over and over all day.

The mention of the photo made my body tense as I remembered what pose I was meant to do. I felt my mouth dry up as I was meant to explain to my two idols what I wanted to do for our pose. They were probably going to kick me out without taking the photo. I’d probably be banned from all celebrity meet and greets for life (even though that made no sense).

They were both looking at me. I had to swallow my fear quickly and just get through this.

“Okay, so...here’s the thing.” I took a deep breath and said, “Ineedtodotheeiffeltowerpose.”

Both smiles turned to confusion.

Just say it, get it over with.

“I made a stupid bet with my friends, and I lost, so they made the decision on what pose for me to do here.” I had to force the words out, “Eiffel Tower.”

Matthew and Skeet looked at each other. My heart had started to pound so hard that my vision was blurring. I quickly fumbled for my wallet and pulled out my ID. “I’m over 18, I swear. It’s just from a bet. I tried to say no, but my friends wouldn’t let me off the hook. They said they need to see the proof too...”

I trailed off as I realized I was rambling. My face was on fire with embarrassment. I just wanted to disappear, or cease to exist. I’d never forgive my friends for ruining something so important for me. My first time meeting two people who were so important to me, and they were going to think I was a sex pest or something.

“Okay.”

I blinked. “What?”

Skeet shrugged. “A bet is a bet. I’m fine with it. How about you, Matt?”

Matthew nodded. “Let’s do it. It’ll be the most creative pose I think we’ve ever done.”

I couldn’t believe they agreed. I thought it was some kind of joke. It wasn’t until they moved to either side of me, and Skeet asked, “Which of us is where?” that I realized they were seriously doing this; I was seriously doing this.

I turned to face Matthew, with Skeet behind me. Matthew held my arms as I leaned forward, not enough for my head to fully be in his crotch but enough for the sake of the pose. Skeet put his hands on my hips, keeping a respectable distance from me as well.

“Smile,” the camera guy said.

I smiled through the burning feeling of embarrassment in my face. At the same time, I couldn’t lie and say this wasn’t a turn on. I had definitely read Stu and Billy fanfiction that included this pose, so my mind was wandering to dangerous places.

The camera flashed a few times, and then it was over. I pulled away from them very quickly, trying not to be as awkward as I felt. Matthew and Skeet hugged me again, and I thanked them for going on with my crazy request.

My friends were waiting with smirks on their faces as I walked through the exit.

“How’d it go?” one asked. “Did you do it?”

“I did,” I responded, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “I think I have to wait for the physical copies, but I can prove I did it.”

We went to the part of the photo op where the pictures are done off. My friends asked me about the experience and I relayed the entire moment to them. I thought they’d be skeptical of what I was saying, but they hung on every word I said and were just as excited as I had been during the interaction. One of them made a joke that I must’ve made Skeet hard by “shoving my ass in his crotch”, but I told her that was inappropriate and there was no way it had happened.

The photo person called my name and passed me an envelope. I pulled out the print of my photos and my friends flocked to see it. They gasped and giggled as if we were teenagers still. I couldn’t help but blush at the picture, though. I originally thought this was going to ruin my one chance at meeting my idols, but in the end it seemed like it was going to be a funny story. I may actually even frame the photo for the memory.

My friends started walking towards a booth they had wanted to visit. I trailed behind them, putting the photos back into the envelope. That’s when I felt something on the back. When I flipped the picture over, I found a Post-It note. The note read, “If you feel comfortable, meet us in our hotel room tonight”, along with an address.

My face was burning again. There was no way this was real. This could not be the actual address for the actual hotel where actual Matthew Lillard and Skeet Ulrich were staying. There was also no way that actual Matthew Lillard and Skeet Ulrich were suggesting what I think they were suggesting.

I put the picture back in the envelope and pocketed the note as I went to catch up with my friends. I could feel the weight of it in my pocket, but I kept trying to forget about it. It couldn’t be real, and if I went to the hotel I’d probably find some weirdo instead of the two men I’d expect - or hope. It’d be a bad idea to go to that address.

~~~~~~

Well, the address was a hotel at least.

I knew I was crazy for showing up here. Anything could happen to me. Anything bad. I hadn’t told my friends about the note because I knew what their responses would be, so they didn’t know I was here. It was a stupid decision all around, but the curiosity was getting the better of me.

My heart was pounding as I took the elevator up to the floor I was directed to go to. It was making my vision blurry to a point where I almost couldn’t read the numbers on the doors. I was having deja vu to meeting Skeet and Matthew earlier. I lifted my hand to knock and paused only briefly to question whether or not this was a good idea. I knew the answer was no, but there was no going back now.

When the hotel door opened, I almost passed out.

Stood there was none other than Skeet Ulrich.

He was grinning at me in a sexy way. “We were wondering if you were actually going to come.”

“Well, you can’t blame a girl for being cautious.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I figured. I told Matt the note was a little ominous, but we couldn’t exactly say anything in front of the camera guy. That’s not something we want to get out to the public.”

That just raised more questions, but I didn’t want to take up too much time just talking in the hallway. Skeet stepped aside to let me in. I was very aware of how close he was as I passed him, but I tried not to think too much about it.

I was expected a huge hotel suite since they were two big actors and all, but was pleasantly surprised to see that it was just a two bedroom, one bathroom hotel room with a small balcony. Matthew was laid back on one of the beds, watching TV. He looked up when he heard me walk in and smiled as if he was seeing an old friend. “Hey! You’re finally here!”

The reality of the situation was setting in. I was starting to feel a little lightheaded. They both must’ve noticed, or they knew how overwhelming this was going to be in general, because Skeet took my hand and guided me to the bed Matthew was sat on. Matthew sat up to put a comforting hand between my shoulder blades.

“This is a lot, we know,” he said. “You can ask whatever questions you need to ask.”

“Do I have to sign an NDA?”

I cringed at myself while Matthew and Skeet seemed amused. It definitely was not my biggest question, but it was the first one that slipped out through my filter.

“We didn’t tell either of our agents that we were doing this,” Skeet said. “So no NDAs are drafted. Is that a bad idea? Very much so, yes. But I also know our agents definitely would not want us to be doing this in general, so they’d probably try to talk us out of it instead of writing up any sort of NDA.”

“So...you’ve never done this before?”

“Not with a fan,” Skeet responded. “We have had threesomes before, but usually with girlfriends.”

“One time with a co-star,” Matthew added. “Not as awkward as most people make sleeping with a co-worker seem.”

Part of me wanted to ask which co-star, but that really wasn’t the most important thing right now. The most important question to me was, “Why me?”

The two of them shared a look. I couldn’t read what their expressions were saying, but there was definitely some shared thought process passing between them.

“Like I said, we’ve never done this with a fan before,” Skeet started. “Obviously there’s all sorts of power imbalance issues with that, and we don’t want anyone to think we’re using our star status to have sex. Because we’re not, and we don’t want that.”

“But there was something about you that made us go against that,” Matthew added.

I felt my face heating up again as I asked, “Was it the pose?”

Both men barked a laugh at the same time. I couldn’t help but smile as well. Despite the nervousness I was feeling, they were making me feel somewhat calm as well. Outside of the cameras and the long line of fans and the convention photo op, they felt like real people. Just two guys who were friends, who were asking a girl they just met for a threesome.

Okay, the nerves were back now.

“The pose definitely helped,” Matthew said. “But you are also very attractive, and you were very kind. It was hard not to think about making this proposition after you had left.”

This is a dream. I’m dreaming. I actually fainted before the photo op and now I’m dreaming.

Skeet sat down on the bed next to me. “This is all your choice. Please do not say yes just because we’re famous. If you’re uncomfortable at all, we’ll let you go. Trust us, we get that this is probably a lot to handle. Like I said, we’re not about to use our celebrity status just to get sex if you don’t want it.”

I could tell they were being sincere. I actually did have an out if I wanted one. And that was definitely comforting because I was still feeling very conflicted. None of this felt real, and I was almost inclined to turn it down just due to that fact.

But also, I had been crushing on these two actors since the first time I watched the original Scream. I had read so much fanfiction about their characters, stuff that involved situations like this. I’d been fawning over them for years. How stupid would I be if I let this opportunity pass by, even if I wasn’t able to tell anyone? Hell, I probably wouldn’t tell anyone anyways. This would be my little secret; something just for me.

Finally, I found my voice to tell them, “I want to.”

Skeet and Matthew shared a look. They had similar smirks on their faces, and I couldn’t help but wonder what I had gotten myself into.

“If you want to stop at any point you have to tell us,” Skeet said to me. “Promise us that.”

I nodded, but Skeet shook his head. “No, we have to hear you say it.”

“I-I promise I’ll tell you i-if I want to stop.”

Matthew’s voice was closer to my ear than I anticipated as he said, “Good girl.”

The combination of his words and his hot breath against my skin caused my to clench my thighs together. A whimper slipped from my lips as I felt him start to kiss against my neck. I lulled my head to the side, giving him full access to whatever he wanted, and closed my eyes to let myself get lost in the pleasure.

It didn’t take very long for me to forget the entire situation at hand. A fog of lust had washed over me enough to finally let my nerves subside. So, I wasn’t thinking much about who owned the set of hands that was unbuttoning my jeans, but rather how much I wanted them off and to feel those hands against me.

Someone - I’m assuming Skeet as I could feel Matthew’s hands against my waist - pulled my pants down my legs. Once they were gone, Matthew wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his lap. I gasped as I felt the already hard bulge in his pants against my back. He continued to kiss over my neck as one of his hands slipped under my shirt, teasing the underside of my bra, while the other made its way between my legs. My head lulled back against Matthew’s shoulder as his fingers lightly skimmed over my already damp panties.

“Already so wet,” he commented. “Just for us?”

“J-Just for you,” I moaned. I’d probably be embarrassed by how needy I was if I wasn’t so turned on.

His fingers traced over the waistband of my panties before he slipped his hand underneath them. He rubbed agonizingly slow circles on my clit while his lips still went to work on my neck. He sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin, undoubtably leaving marks I wouldn’t be able to explain. I arched my back, pushing myself further into him and his fingers further against me.

Matthew chuckled. “I think she’s eager.”

“Should give her what she wants, Matt,” Skeet said. I had almost forgotten he was there.

“Is that what you want, pretty girl?” Matthew asked me. “Do you want my fingers?”

“Yes,” I breathed. “Y-Yes, please.”

“How do I say no when you’re using your manners?”

He started with just one finger, slowly pushing into me. I let out a loud moan, but quickly covered my mouth with my hand as I remembered where we were.

Skeet chuckled this time, before saying, “Be as loud as you want. There’s no one else around us. We’ll give the staff a good tip just in case there’s any noise complaints, though.”

They didn’t really give me much choice on my volume, as Matthew added another finger after stretching me out with the first, and started thrusting them in and out of me at a quick pace. The sinful sounds of squishing mixed with whatever was tumbling out of my mouth filled the room. The heel of Matthew’s hand worked against my clit, edging me closer and closer to the edge.

I opened my eyes just for a moment, and saw that Skeet was now stood in front of us. He was watching Matthew make me come undone, and I noticed he had one hand against his crotch, palming himself through his jeans. I had never thought much about threesomes before, mainly because I hadn’t ever felt confident enough to bring a third person in to the bedroom in any of my relationships. But there was something extremely hot about watching Skeet get turned on by watching Matthew and I. It turned me on more to realize I’d be getting my time with him too.

My first orgasm hit me with little warning. One second I felt it creeping up, and the next the wave of pleasure was crashing down on me. My body trembled as I leaned against Matthew for support. He slowed his fingers, letting me ride through my high. When he slipped them out of me, I whimpered from the loss of contact.

I lazily turned my head to watch Matthew bring his fingers to his lips. He slipped them into his mouth, sucking off my remaining juices.

“She tastes so good, Skeet,” he said. “You should taste her.”

I thought for a second that Skeet was going to put Matthew’s fingers in his mouth, which would’ve been extremely hot. Instead, he got to his knees on the foot of the bed where Matthew and I were sitting. Matthew let me go so that Skeet could pull me to the edge of the bed. He pulled my soaked panties off and discarded them somewhere in the room. I could feel his warm breath against my still sensitive core, sending a shiver through my body. He leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe from my hole to my clit. My body jolted at the contact, still recovering from my first orgasm.

“She does taste good,” Skeet said.

I felt Matthew’s hands on the hem of my shirt. I lifted my arms over my head to let him pull it off me. With little effort, Matthew unclipped my bra as well, and it fell to my lap. I was officially completely bare to the two of them.

Matthew stood from the bed as Skeet started kissing over my thighs. First my inner right thigh, then the left, moving slowly up to my mound, to my stomach. He took his time leaving a trail of kisses up my stomach and to my breasts. He took one of my nipples in his mouth, running his tongue over the sensitive nub, while my other nipple was pinched between his fingers. I was moaning again, my body reacting by somehow becoming even wetter between my thighs. There was still a dull ache from my first orgasm, but it was quickly going away.

I heard the rustling of clothes and opened my eyes to see Matthew undressing himself. He was unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it on the floor, and his hands had just moved to discard his own pants when he caught me looking. A sly smirk crossed his face as he winked at me. At the same time, Skeet nipped at the skin of my breast, making me yelp.

When Matthew was left in nothing but his boxers, he said, “Seems you’re the only one left completely dressed, man.”

Skeet pulled away from me. He took a moment to look over my completely naked form before looking at Matthew. “Sorry, I was enjoying myself too much.”

As Skeet started undressing himself, Matthew extended a hand to me. “Are you able to move? Or should we just take you like that?”

“How do you want me?” I asked. I was surprised with how steady and strong my voice sounded given how the two of them had somehow already managed to ruin me.

“The Eiffel Tower seems fitting.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. I took Matthew’s hand and he helped me get up and to my knees. Skeet had stripped down, leaving him completely naked, while Matthew was still in his boxers. “Looks like you’re the last one clothed now, Matt.”

When Matthew took his boxers off, I couldn’t help but stare at him and Skeet for a while. They were definitely both packing, which was a little intimidating. Not like I hadn’t been with well endowed men before, but still.

“Should we take our positions from the photo?” Skeet asked Matthew. “You take the front, I’ll take the back?”

“Sounds good to me.” Matthew, who was already stood near my face, reached down to cup my chin. “Are you okay with that?”

I nodded. I was glad when they didn’t try and make me verbally respond again because I was sure I had officially lost my ability to speak.

Matthew held the base of his dick, pumping it slightly, as he moved closer to me. He waited until I pulled him closer and opened my mouth to take him in, not trying to rush me or shove himself down my throat. He let me take my time, filling my mouth with as much of him as I could. I placed my tongue along the underside of his cock as I slowly slid him into my mouth. He threw his head back and let out a moan. I got as far as I could go without gagging and stayed there just long enough to adjust to having his size in my mouth. One of his hands made its way into my hair, tangling the strands around his fingers, but he didn’t start moving my head. He kept me there, letting me set the pace.

I started bobbing my head up and down, slipping him most the ways out of my mouth before sliding him all the way back in. I did it at a slow, almost teasing pace. Matthew’s hand twitched against my head, like he was restraining himself from making me go at a pace that he actually wanted. I looked up at him through my eyelashes. His head was tilted down to look at me again, but his eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly ajar in pleasure.

Skeet was watching us, fisting his own dick at the sight. I had gotten so caught up in watching Matthew as I pleasured him that I didn’t notice Skeet moving to the bed until it dipped behind me. I gasped as I felt the hot head of his cock dragging through my folds. When it nudged against my entrance, just an inch pushed inside of me, I couldn’t stop myself from moving back against him and taking the rest of him in.

“Eager girl,” he said with a chuckle. “Don’t forget about Matt.”

“I don’t mind watching her be eager for your cock,” Matthew said.

I took Matthew back in my mouth as Skeet slowly started to thrust into me. I tried to keep a steady pace with my head, but I soon found myself more focused on the pleasure from Skeet’s cock dragging against my walls than the pleasure I was supposed to be giving Matthew. I was moaning around him, which in turn was making him moan. He used my hair to guide my mouth up and down his shaft so that I didn’t have to concentrate on doing it myself.

Eventually, Skeet start to thrust a bit more rough into me so that I was moving against Matthew with each thrust. Both men were moaning and grunting in time, the noises sounding like music. My brain had been completely taken over by the lustful fog and I couldn’t think about anything but the feeling of being full with both of their cocks. Matthew’s hand tightened in my hair and I felt his cock twitching in my mouth, signaling that he was getting close.

As if also sensing Matthew’s closeness, or maybe he was also getting close himself, Skeet reached around to find my clit. He started rubbing harsh, quick circles into my sensitive nub. My arms were starting to tremble from the effort of keeping myself up, while the rest of my body was trembling with pleasure. My second orgasm was coming on and I knew it was going to hit just as hard as the first one did. I was about to take Matthew’s cock out of my mouth to tell them both I was going to cum, but Skeet began to thrust rougher into me, sending me over the edge quicker than anticipated. I cried out, mostly muffled by Matthew’s dick. Skeet thrust into me one more time, shoving me forward so that Matthew was down my throat. I felt Skeet pulsing inside of me and he let out a loud groan, meaning he had came as well. Matthew was the last of us, shooting his load down my throat seconds after Skeet had cum inside of me.

Matthew pulled out first and I swallowed him down. I lowered my front half onto the bed, finally allowing my arms some rest. Skeet took a second to ride out his own high before pulling himself out of me and letting me completely collapse on the bed. I lazily turned my head to watch as he pulled something off of his dick, and then realized it had been a condom. I hadn’t even noticed him put one on, or the feeling of a condom while we were fucking, but that made sense for him to protect himself, and me.

Matthew had gone to the hotel bathroom and came back with wash cloths for all three of us. I slowly rolled onto my back and took one from him.

“I should’ve asked before finishing in your mouth,” he said. “Sorry about that.”

I waved away his comment. “Don’t worry. You wouldn’t be the first one to cum down my throat unexpectedly, although this was definitely the better of the other times it’s happened.”

Matthew chuckled. “I can only imagine. I don’t think I want to hear those horror stories.”

“You definitely don’t want to.”

After cleaning myself up, I slowly brought myself to a sitting position. I looked around the room to see if I could find my discarded clothing, but found that all of our stuff had basically been thrown around together.

“You don’t have to get up yet,” Skeet said. “You’re more than welcome to stay for a while.”

“You guys don’t wanna kick me out right away?” I asked.

Skeet shook his head. “This isn’t that kind of situation. You can stay overnight if you want to, and then you can go again in the morning.”

“I kind of want room service,” Matthew said. He had his boxers pulled back on and was looking at the room service menu. “Are you guys hungry? We could order a feast.”

I picked my shirt up off the floor and pulled it on just to have myself clothed. I sat on the bed across from Matthew and took the room service menu to look over. Skeet, also now in his boxers, sat in the bed next to me to look at the menu over my shoulder.

No one would ever believe what happened here, but that was fine by me. I was more than okay with this being my dirty little secret, with the only evidence being the hickies on my neck and the Post-It note that was still tucked away with my picture.

[storiesforallfandoms]

Is there a specific list for kinktober? Asking for a friend 😉

[storiesforallfandoms]

That’s my bestie!!!

Stranger Things handmade embroidery by @omeletdreamer as part of our Geeked Week Fan Art Submissions!

Submit your fan art, crafts, makeup transformations & cosplay HERE!

[storiesforallfandoms]

surprising ted and tucker during chuckle sandwich ~ jschlatt h.c.

warnings: rpf, just fluffy, but also some swearing

"i received a package in the mail today that said i could not open it until the next chuckle sandwich episode"

ted is holding up a white envelope, luckily smart enough to aim it away from the camera so that his address isn't accidentally leaked

"from who?" tucker asks.

"from schlatt and (y/n)."

you and schlatt are completely stone faced

well, schlatt is

you have a little bit of smile tugging at the corner of your lips

you and schlatt had been waiting ages for this, and when ted finally messaged you guys to say he had gotten the package, it was like christmas had come early

you had indeed written on the envelope "do not open until the filming of the next chuckle sandwich"

ted tried to get answers, but you were both adamant that he had to follow the instructions

"it's gonna be something that scars me for life, isn't it? like you guys sent me a picture of schlatt's penis in the mail or something"

"honestly, if that's the prank, that's some dedication"

you watch as ted carefully opens the envelope, pulling out a card with an orange cat on it

"oh, he kinda looks like jambo. is this about jambo? are you announcing you got rid of him?"

"dude, don't say that! i just got people to stop saying he died and was replaced by kubo!" from schlatt

ted is hesitant to open the card

but when he does, something falls onto his lap

he picks it up

looks at it for a second

his eyes go BIG

tucker asks, "what is it?"

ted turns it to show the camera

it's a sonogram

of a little tiny baby, that looks no bigger than a peanut

tucker also takes a second to realize what it is

but when it click in for them both, they're both yelling, "what the fuck?!"

the shit eating grin on schlatt's face is priceless

you're giggling at their reactions

they're both trying to get out their questions, but it's all loud and overlapping one another that it's basically inaudible

finally schlatt said, "hey! shut up for a second!"

and they both do

"welcome to chuckle sandwich"