#if you were to ask me what my comfort movie is

[zigdirty]

By the time I got off work this year, I’d already seen that the election had been called. I already knew the results.

Normally I have the tradition of watching this spectacular film every Guy Fawkes Day, November 5th, so I can enjoy it all over again, but also do I am always aware of how easily fascism can take over.

The irony of this Election Day being on Guy Fawkes Day, and the stakes of said election, were not lost on me. Not in the slightest.

But having been unable to watch it before I went to work Tuesday, I planned to at least start it before the end of the day. That is, until I saw the news.

All I could hear in my head was the speech broadcast across the emergency channel:

Good evening, London. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of everyday routine, the security of the familiar, the tranquillity of repetition. I enjoy them as much as any bloke. But in the spirit of commemoration, whereby those important events of the past, usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, are celebrated with a nice holiday, I thought we could mark this November the fifth, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are, of course, those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well, certainly, there are those who are more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable. But again, truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. They were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic, you turned to the now high chancellor, Adam Sutler. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. Last night, I sought to end that silence. Last night, I destroyed the Old Bailey to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago, a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words; they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you, then I would suggest that you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me, one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever be forgot.

This has played on repeat in my mind since I learned of the election results, searing itself into my psyche.

We are now at that place. We are now the people to whom V was speaking in the movie.

I cannot bring myself to rewatch this marvel of live-action film. I do not believe it would bring me joy any longer.

We have no one else to blame but ourselves.

And we have a long road ahead of us out of hell.

V for Vendetta (2005)

[xoluvx]

for the ‘first of many’ list, reader and billie’s first kiss would be so cute

omg yessss!! enjoy love. this is also for all my babies that need a little comfort right now ilysm 💖

how do you even have your first kiss? you asked yourself that constantly. you'd had kisses. plenty of kisses but none with the girl of your dreams. no anticipated kiss had made you lose sleep like this one. no kiss had you spinning in circles like this one. who decides when the kiss is going to happen? where is it going to happen? how is it going to happen? it just kind of .. happens, right?

to say you were a nervous wreck was an understatement. you got silly little butterflies every time you were around her. it felt like a middle school crush. one where your hands brushed and you pulled away quickly because the sparks were too intense. one where she looked at you and you felt the stupid butterflies in your stomach again and you were flushed and could hardly breathe. one where you were too shy to get close to her on the couch because it felt too intimate.

she was always the first one to concede. the first one to hold your hand and stare into your eyes. they were so sparkly dusted with magic. her lips always flattened in a shy smile as her cheeks turned pink. she was always the first one to wrap her arm around your shoulder and pull you close while you watched a movie. smelling your hair and brushing your arm with her delicate fingers. tapping on your skin to the beat of the soundtrack.

she led you followed. that was always the case. that's always how it went.

your first kiss.. however, was a different story. she hadn't made a move. hadn't even attempted. every time you thought it was going to happen you felt so giddy. you swallowed the butterflies because you didn't want them to spill all over her and then..

..and then it didn't happen. you were sure the disappointment was written on your face each time and there's no way she didn't notice. there's no way she didn't want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss her. after building up the courage, you finally did the thing you didn't think you'd ever do. you just asked her.

"do you want to kiss me?" your voice was sheepish as you sat on the couch abruptly. the uncertainty had been eating away at you. you'd been watching a movie and every time you glanced up at her she was so focused on the screen you just looked down swallowing the urge to say something or to just walk out in frustration

"what?" billie turning to look at you. there was unreadable expression on her face. like she was confused but not as to why you were asking that question, but as to why you thought she wouldn't want to kiss you.

"do you want to kiss me, billie?" you asked with a little more certainty in your voice. you cleared your throat and held your weight on the couch with your arm. your brows furrowed waiting for her response. your heart was beating rapidly. your hands were clammy. were you going to start crying? oh god. you couldn't contain your feelings. they were spill all over her if she didn't answer in the next second.

and that's when she kissed you. she cupped your face. she leaned in. her soft lips grazed yours for a brief second. you inhaled sharply feeling lightheaded. all the air was knocked out of your lungs as your noses brushed. when your arms wrapped around her shoulders, she kissed you with certainty. her lips so sugary sweet on yours as they found the perfect rhythm. heads moving in opposite directions as you joined together so close you were almost one.

it was everything you wanted and none of what you expected. it was unexpectedly perfect.

"i've been wanting to kiss you since the first day i saw you," she confessed pulling away only to lean her forehead against yours. you were catching your breath as a smile spread across your face at the confession because you'd be a liar to say you hadn't too. "why didn't you?" you asked pulling away to look into her eyes. you could get lost in them for days. you could trace every constellation and explore every sea in her eyes.

"i was nervous. i wasn't sure if you wanted me to kiss you. i've tried-" she rambled nervously pursing her lips as she spilled her guts. she felt safe doing so. she felt it when you kissed her back with the same urgency and passion she'd been feeling for weeks. "you've tried?" you cut her off furrowing your brows trying to pinpoint the times this had happened. she chuckled and squeezed your face pulling you close to kiss you once more time before listing all the times she tried to kiss you.

like the time you were out for dinner and she grabbed your hand, but you pulled away to wipe your mouth. the time she set up a picnic in her backyard and sat next to you feeding you the chocolate strawberries she'd made especially for you. when she went to wipe the chocolate from your chin, you giggled and reached for a napkin. the time she stared directly into your eyes when you slept over for the first time and you cuddled into the comforter closing your eyes before asking her to cuddle you.

you'd wondered 'how, where, when' it'd happened and it'd been in front of you the whole time. the opportunities boundless. and yes, it could have just happened during any of these times, but it didn't. it happened now. her sitting in front of you. eyes pure. words comforting. smiles tender while you tearfully listened as she professed her love and just how badly she'd wanted to kiss you.

your lips molded so perfectly as your hearts beat contently in sync.

first of many; masterlist

[sturnioloszn]

OLD TOGETHER - C.S

summary; you and chris are reminiscing on the day you adopted trevor and how everyone has grown old together.

warnings; noneee, it's a fluff!

a/n; it was bound to happen that i'd write a oneshot with trev. also, i'm gonna try to write a few more fluffs for NNN (lmaoo, i'll still do a few smuts, i wont starve u sluts dw) but yeahhh, enjoy!

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

The triplets were finally back in Boston, and they asked if I wanted to hang out and have a movie night with them. Of course, I accepted. The triplets and I have been friends since elementary, and we used to see each other every single day. But ever since they moved to La, we've seen each other a lot less. So, whenever the opportunity presents itself, we hang out as much as possible.

Nick and Matt were currently out grabbing the pizzas and snacks for the movie night, whereas Chris and I decided to stay back. We were sprawled out on the couch, mindlessly talking to each other. I missed this. I miss being able to come over whenever and just hang out. I missed their company. I missed them.

After a few minutes, the conversation died down, and we were enjoying eachothers comfortable silence until a soft snoring was heard from the left of me. Chris and I both look up from our phones and look to see who was snoring even though we already knew who it was.

Trevor was curled up under a grey blanket on his dog bed, which was kept on the couch. God, this dog is sooo spoilt. We watch as he sleeps, his gentle snores being the only noise in the room. Chris and I exchanged a small glance and laughed under our breath, trying not to wake up Trev.

"Do you remember when we first got him?" I ask, looking back to Chris. He had his phone in his hand, recording Trevor as he slept.

"Of course I do. How could I forget?" He smiles, ending the recording.

-

"Come on, Nickkk, it'll be fun," Chris whines. We had just finished the school day, and Chris and I were begging to go to the animal shelter, but Nick and Matt were not convinced.

"No, mom said to come home straight away," Nick states. He looks over to Matt before speaking again, "Isn't it mom said that?" He asks, raising his eyebrows at Matt.

"Um... yeah. Chris, let's just go home," He pleads, not wanting his brothers to fight. Chris stomps one of his feet and shakes his head, his blond hair falling into his eyes slightly.

"Y/n wants to go too, and mom won't care if we come home like ten minutes later," He says, looking over to me. Now, all three of them are glarring at me, waiting for me to pick a side.

"How about me and Chris, go to the shelter for a couple of minutes, and you guys go home?" I say, trying to stop the fighting and make everyone happy.

"Fine, when mom takes your playstation away, I'm going to laugh at you," Nick says, sticking his tongue out to Chris and grabbing Matt's hand before walking away. Now it's just me and Chris standing outside the animal shelter.

"Are you sure we won't get in trouble?" I ask, looking into his innocent, blue eyes. He looks back at me before shaking his head and grabbing hold of my hand. We walk to the door of the animal shelter and struggle slightly to push it open, but when we do, a small bell rings.

As the bell stops, a girl with long brown hair comes out to the front. She looks at us before giving a warm smile, "Hi kids, what can I do for you guys?".

We both smiled back before I opened my mouth to answer her, "we were wondering if we could look at some doggies?" I question, with a hopeful gleam in my eyes.

"Of course," She chuckles, leading us to the back where all the animals are kept. There's a few dogs, cats, and even a bunny. But before she could explain anything the bell to the front of the shop rang again. "Sorry guys, give me a sec," She says hurrying to the front.

We take the opportunity to start looking at all the animals. There was a small white dog but it looked a bit crusty and next to it was a really big black and white dog.

"Ooo, this one is a husky," Chris says, reaching his hand into the cage to stroke it. He pets the dog's head and it instantly gets super excited and starts to wag it's tail. I wonder if these animals ever get lonely? Thinking about this makes me sad and I feel tears in my eyes. "Y/n, come here, come pet it," he says, turning around.

That is when he sees that I'm are crying and instantly stops petting the dog. "Why are you crying? What's wrong?" He asks, putting his arm around my shoulders. I cover my face with my small hands, trying to hide the tears but they keep flowing.

"It's sad, what if they get lonely and nobody pays them any attention?" I sniffle and try to wipe my tears away. He looks at me for a moment as if deep in thought.

"I'm sure they're not?" he tries to reassure but it doesn't really help. I keep sniffling trying to fight any more tears from falling when the girl comes back in with a puppy in her hands. She takes a look at me before asking the same question Chris had asked moments ago.

Chris explains to her that I'm sad because I think the dogs are probably lonely and want some love. "Awhh sweetheart, it's okay. I promise they get plenty of love. Here, how about you hold this fella," she says passing the puppy that was in her arms into mine.

The small dog was brown with a little, black button nose. I cradle the dog in my arms and pet it softly. Chris reaches over to also show him some affection.

"What's his name?" Chris asks the girl.

"He actually doesn't have one yet, he was just brought in, he's a puppy," she says, watching me hold the dog close to my chest. A smile down at the dog, it is so cute. I wish I could keep him but my mom would never allow it.

"Chris, d'you think your mom would let you keep him?" I ask, mentally crossing my fingers and toes that he'd say yes.

"Hm, maybe? Let me go ask!" He says, before running out the door. I didn't even have time to react before he was already out of eye-sight. He was probably running down the street, back to his house to ask if they could keep him.

I kept cradling the doggy and the girl reassured me that all the animals are very loved even if they don't have a 'forever home' yet.

Before I knew it Chris comes speeding back, dragging his mom by the hand; Nick and Matt trailing behind them.

Me and the girl both move back to the front to meet with everyone else. "Look mom! Isn't he the cutest?" Chris asks, pulling the dog into his arms to give his mom a closer look. She closely examines the dog before turning to the woman behind the desk.

"How big will he grow?" She asks. Nick and Matt move closer to us to take a closer look at the dog.

"I guess he's kinda cute," Nick admits, still salty about the argument from earlier.

"Nick you can't lie, he's really cute," Matt agrees, coming to also pet him. We were now all surrounded by the dog petting him and showing so much love.

The dog didn't mind all of the attention, he just yawned and settled into Chris' arms.

"Not big at all, he's a pug and beagle mix, so he won't grow too much bigger than he is now," the girl explains. I watch their mom pull out her purse from her bag and take out a card.

The woman behind the desk smiles and looks back over to us before speaking, "hey guys, he's all yours,". We look back and forth between us before all running to hug their mom. She laughs and hugs as all back.

"But you guys have to promise you'll stop arguing now, alright?" She says, shaking her head with a smile. Nick must have told her about the disagreement the four of us had earlier. We all agreed to her condition before we began throwing names around so that we could figure out what to name our newest friend. Amongst all our chatter, Chris speaks up so he can be heard.

"Y/n and I should be the ones to name him because it's technically our dog, we wanted him!" He says, making all of us stop speaking. Nick goes to open his mouth to disagree but their mom stops him.

"How about we all agree on a name, hm?" She says, leading us out of the shelter and on the walk back to the triplet's house we agreed on the name Trevor. When their mom heard the name she laughed and questioned it but Chris said he randomly thought of it which made us all laugh.

-

We share a smile, remembering our childhood and how crazy it was that we've had Trev for so many years now. We've all grown up together which was almost enough to bring tears to my eyes again.

Out of nowhere, Nick and Matt burst through the front door, "GUESS WHO BROUGHT BACK PIZZAAAA!" Nick exclaims, as if we didn't know.

Matt follows behind him, shaking his head. We spend the rest of the night, laughing, eating, and enjoying eachothers company. It makes me sad that we are getting older and that we're leaving our childhood behind but I can't wait to continue to grow old together and see what the future brings us.

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

a/n; thank you for readingggg, I hope you enjoyed it and lmk if u have any suggestions for future fics! love you all <33.

Taglist; @idrk2292 @mattsfavseason @aalicats87 @045696 @forgottxen @mattsturniolover

[juniperskye]

Three’s Company

This is just a lil blurb about Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan and you being in love! Based on the following Request: @satans-bitch Hi! Idk if you would be comfortable writing it, but I love the idea of Aaron hotchner x reader x Derek Morgan just all being so in love with each other. Thank u Xx – I took some creative liberties…I hope you like it!

Hotch x BAU! Fem Reader x Morgan

Word count: 883

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Fem reader, pet names, poly-relationship (I’m not the most familiar with this lifestyle) canon typical violence, mantion of babies and pregnancy, Let me know if I missed any.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

So, neither Derek nor Aaron ever and I mean EVER thought they’d be in a polyamorous relationship. But let me tell you, when you arrived at the BAU, they both knew they had to have you. Aaron had gone to Dave time and time again seeking advice and Derek did the same with Penelope.

They’d both complain that there was no way you were interested, because clearly you like the other guy. Only, that wasn’t quite the issue.

You didn’t just like Aaron or Derek, you liked them both. They were so similar and yet so different and there was no way you could ever choose just one of them.

After many instances of the men fighting for your attention and affection, you pulled them both aside to have a serious conversation.

“I think I should leave the BAU.” You stated.

“What? No!” Derek blurted.

“Why would you think that?” Aaron inquired. “If our behavior has made you uncomfortable, I am so sorry. It was never my intention, and I would hate to see such a talented agent leave because of my idiocy.”

“It’s not your guy’s behavior that’s making me feel this way. It’s my feelings for you.” You said, gesturing to both men.

“Feelings for who?” Derek questioned.

“Both of you.” You blushed.

That evening you’d explained to the men that you had feelings for both of them and had the situation been different you’d have suggested a poly relationship, but you knew that it was too much to ask of two alpha males who’d never been in one before.

What you hadn’t expected to happen was for them to give you a quizzical look and then ask you to give them some time to think about it.

--

It had been nearly a year since then and the three of you had developed something truly beautiful. Aaron had been so stoic at work but at home he was soft, and he always did everything in his power to ensure you and Derek were both cared for.

And well Derek, he was clingy at home. Always wanting his hands on you and he’d come to really enjoy having physical contact with Aaron.

Like when you’d watch a movie, Aaron would have his arm slung over the back of the couch while you cuddled up into his side, and Derek would be sitting as close to you as possible, practically sitting you in his lap. This position would allow for Aaron’s hand to rest around Derek as well and that warmth became a comfort for him.

There had been another shift shortly after that, pet names…they’d been slipping out more frequently. And not just them men using them with you either.

“Sweetheart can you pass me my phone?” Aaron had asked, looking directly at Derek.

“Sure thing sugar.” Derek had replied.

You had been shocked initially, but it ultimately had warmed your heart to see them falling into this relationship more and more. Their comfort in this had been your main priority, you hadn’t cared about anything else.

--

Work had been the toughest part of this newfound dynamic. When any of you got hurt on a case, the other two couldn’t exactly hold it together. And with the team being out of the loop of your lifestyle, well they definitely suspected something.

The most recent had been Aaron, he had been shot while taking down an unsub. Thankfully it had been a flesh wound, but when you heard the shot and saw him go down, you couldn’t help the wail that tore through you. The paramedics had requested you step away, and Derek pulled you into his embrace to get you to comply.

“Baby he’s gonna be okay!” Derek said while holding you close.

“He was shot D! What if he’s not?” You cried.

“I know he’s gonna be okay baby. He has to be.” Derek mumbled the last part.

You looked up to see the tears falling from his misty eyes, and you held him tighter. The team sat by and watched the situation play out, fully convinced now that something was transpiring between the three of you. More than they had initially assumed.

--

The newest development had been the discussion of children. The guys had baby fever, they had seen you interacting with your sister’s newborn and you swear you saw them both drooling over the sight of you.

So…have you ever thought about having kids princess?” Derek posed.

Currently you were lying on the couch, your head in Derek’s lap and him pressed against Aaron. The movie playing, long forgotten as Derek combed his fingers through your hair and Aaron traced shapes on Derek’s bicep.

“Um, yes…I have thought about it. Why do you ask?” You sat up.

“Well, honey, we had a conversation about it the other day.” Aaron clarified.

“You two…had a conversation about me having a baby?” You questioned.

“About us…having a baby.” Derek said, gesturing to the three of you.

Your jaw dropped in shock. What had started as inappropriate flirting in the workplace had developed into a serious relationship between the three of you. One fueled by love, safety, and trust.

“I would love to have a baby with you guys.” You smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

[bigtreefest]

Happy Hoelloween! 🎃❤️ Please accept this lil hoe treat just for you:

It looks like he’s had a hard day and needs one of your sweet treats to turn his frown upside down. Hope you’re up for it, because he sure is 🍆😘

A Well-deserved Treat

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (modern AU)

Summary: After a long day, you know exactly what Curtis needs

Word count: 729

Content/warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, grunty Curtis, grumpy Curtis, nonverbal Curtis, soapy handjob, shower, Curtis’s beautiful naked body

A/N: Hehehe, happy Hoelloween, Siri!! A sweet treat, indeed!! Thank you so much for sending this in. Sorry it’s a little bit after Halloween, but I think this kind of slowed-down comfort is what we need right now. My poor Curty having a hard day? The least I can do is take care of him when he always does the same for me!!!

Thank you all for reading! Comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated.

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Main Masterlist

Curled up on the couch queueing up all the scary movies you had planned to watch for the night, you heard his truck pull into the driveway. Curtis was finally home, and it was much later than you both had anticipated.

On most days, he was gone before the sunrise, that part wasn’t new. But early hours usually meant an early return unless something went wrong at the shop. And judging by the way the sun was well below set in the sky and you were already on your second bowl of candy for the trick-or-treaters, something went really wrong.

The door closed a little harder than usual, although Curtis was careful not to slam it. Based off of that, he didn’t seem angry about the day, but most definitely annoyed at the very least.

You turned to greet him, but he was already gone, the faint sound of him toeing off his boots filling the hallway along with his jingling belt buckle. He was probably going to take a shower to wash the day away, which was a good idea. That always calmed him a little, but he probably needed even more than that.

Curtis was probably going to take a bit of a longer shower, too, but you didn’t want to waste time. You moved quickly to throw the blanket off of you, grabbing the bowl of candy and setting it on the doormat for kids to help themselves. Your man needed you.

You ran quickly with your socked feet faintly sliding on the wooden floors, grateful you had already closed the windows earlier as you shucked off pieces of clothing one by one, leaving a trail.

Once you got to the bathroom door, Curtis was already under the water, simply standing there and letting it rush over him, a faint frown on his face. His hulking shoulders rose and fell steadily with his even breathing which was interrupted as you stepped into his space.

Curtis’s eyes blinked open, his long eyelashes catching droplets of water. Your heart sunk a little, seeing the clear exhaustion in his features as you reached up, your hands gently cupping his jaw, beard lightly scratching your palms.

“Hi, honey,” you whispered just above the sound of rushing water. He simply sighed and gave a grunt in response. Curtis had used his voice too much today, barking orders and corrections around the shop, dealing with more than his fair share of customers. Words were not something he wanted to produce right now, and he was so happy you could see that with the sympathetic smile that you flashed him.

Without a second thought, you knew exactly what you needed to do, reaching to the side and grabbing a dollop of body wash. You lathered it between your hands before pressing them against his firm pecs, rubbing in small circles. You moved outward across the broad expanse of his chest, watching his eyes flutter shut and his head tilt backwards in ecstasy.

You worked your way downward, over the hair of his chest and the ridges of his abs until you came upon the thatch of hair just above where he was starting to grow hard. The relaxation and care you were showing him was enough to do that, and after the kind of day he had, be needed a release.

You reached your soapy hand for his shaft, slowly pumping his length. You were startled as Curtis’s hand shot out and slapped the shower wall, his chin falling to his sternum as his breaths began to pick up. You could hear them huffing out of his nose. He watched the way you expertly twisted your wrist, slightly tentative since he still hadn’t spoken yet.

Curtis’s head slowly rose, his pupils blown with pleasure looking at you through his eyelashes. From the sight of his lust and need to feel good taking over, you got distracted, lost in his gaze. You didn’t even realize your hold weakening, your rhythm faltering until his large hand clasped over yours, helping you squeeze him and move faster.

Finally, Curtis’s lips broke their seal with a small gasp. His chest rumbled in a way that sent a shiver through you despite the warm water. His voice came out in a low growl, one you couldn’t ever bring yourself to deny.

“That’s it. Give me what I need.”

Bonus A/N: Gimme that beast of a man. Lemme shower him in affection and wash off that grime in an actual shower🫣

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles @steviebbboi

[darknessisafriend]

Arthur who?

Finally posting this short comforting piece about our Artie! enjoy everyone :)

Arthur comes back home, and he doesn’t feel good.

You were reading a book on the sofa, curled up under a blanket to warm you until Arthur would come back and let you snuggle against him, playing with your hair as he listened to your reading. Your attention was soon pulled away from your book as you recognized the familiar footsteps of Arthur on the wooden stairs. Although they sounded heavier, more tired than usual.

Your suspicions were revealed to be true when his steps stopped at the door, a silent pause which made you put your book aside and stand up, almost rushing to the door, had he forgotten his keys? Did something worse happen? You put your hand on the door handle, about to open when his voice stopped you in your movement.

“Knock, knock…” he said, his voice barely hearable from the other side.

“Who’s there?” you replied, ready to listen, feeling his upset, his sadness. Whatever happened outside, it seemed to have deeply affected him.

“Arthur Fleck...”

“Arthur Fleck who…?” you asked, the frown deepening on your face until realization hit you, Arthur had gone silent, not replying, this was his joke…he was the joke. Your eyes filled with tears, and you instantly opened the door, throwing your arms around him and hugging him as tight as you could. His arms remained limp on his sides, he swallowed down, his whole-body trembling in pain, distress, exhaustion. He let his head fall on your shoulder, burying it in the crook of your neck as you pulled him inside, closing the door to shelter him from the world.

You made him sit on the sofa while keeping your arms around him, you didn’t speak at first. Your left hand rubbing his back while the other caressed the back of his head soothingly.

“Why are you here? What makes you stay with a loser like me…” he muttered against your shoulder, his voice shaking as if his words could make you leave him.

“Arthur…what happened? You know you can talk to me.” You reassured him, kissing his temple tenderly, hating to hear he thought so low of himself. You felt a tear of his fall on your collarbone, he sniffled and chuckled at the same time.

“Someone recognized me on the streets today…they said…Hey Joker…when are you going to blow up the mayor? I said I don’t want to do that…they replied ‘you’re such a disappointment... go fuck yourself’…” he explained, each word was painful, he was struggling against his disability, struggling to breathe between giggles. And Arthur had believed that person. Arthur thought himself nothing, a fleck of dust bothering the world.

You pinched your lips together; you knew how much it weighed on him since he had managed to get out of Arkham. “You are Arthur Fleck. And you have no idea how much those two words mean to me.” You spoke, gently cupping his face to try to make him look at you in the eyes. “Arthur I won’t have the pretention of telling you who you are or who you should be. But what I am certain about is: how important you are to my eyes.” You smiled, a tear rolling down your cheek. You took a deep breath and opened your mouth, starting to sing, quietly, a song that reminded you of Arthur, when you met him the first time, how your world collapsed to create a new one, one with Artie.

“There was a boy…A very strange, enchanted boy…They say he wandered very far…Very far, Over land and sea…” you had always found Arthur strange, but as you liked to say, most interesting people are. He was even magical to your eyes, that boy who lived in his fantasies, strong imagination, passionate by music and dance, loving to make children smile, a romantic man gifting flower.

“A little shy…And sad of eye…But very wise was he...” people said he was in his world, a child man with a low IQ, those people obviously didn’t know him. He was an adult man, not afraid to regress to relax, to cry in front of a movie, to be vulnerable in front of others. He didn’t need anyone to infantilize him, he was more than aware of his situation, the problems he had, and all he had ever wanted was help to get through them.              

“And then one day…One magic day he passed my way…And while we spoke of many things…Fools and kings…This he said to me…The greatest thing...You'll ever learn…Is just to love…And be loved in return…” you sang a last time; this time he lifted his eyes to meet yours, his brows furrowing into a feeling of fondness, he loved when you sang, and that song from one of his favorite singers took a meaning it never had before. He let out a soft natural laugh.

“Am I that boy? Really?” he asked shyly, flattered, his hands finding yours, entwinning your fingers with his.

“To me you are Arthur. You are not a symbol, or a myth. You are my lover, and with that chance of being so close to you, I got to know you, I love who you are. No need to define it further than that.” You smiled, bringing your entwinned fingers to your lips and kissing his knuckles.

“Right…I am who I am, I know who I am, you see who I am…and that’s enough.” He replied softly, a smile settling on his lips, his eyes shining as he looked at you devotedly. He didn’t have to care about what others said he was, nor did they have the right to judge him because he wasn’t what they wanted him to be.

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[nifflermini]

Take a Break, Will You? (Hajime Iwaizumi x Reader)

In which you’re overworking yourself. And someone’s gotta stop you, so who better than your roomate?

*:..。♡*ﾟ¨ﾟﾟ·*:..。♡*ﾟ¨ﾟﾟ·*:..。♡*ﾟ¨ﾟ·*:..。♡

“Hajime, I can’t-“ You protested, trying to wriggle out of his deceptively gentle but firm hands. He’d dragged you into the plush cushions from the dance studio where he’d found you after getting radio silence since you’d left that morning. You were supposed to go to class, and you did! You just got a little distracted afterward, and the studio was free, how were you supposed to resist?

“Break. Now. You’ve been dancing non-stop for hours, it’s not healthy.” He scolded, as you rolled your eyes. You’d heard this how many times now? You practically knew the whole thing by heart.

“You’re not healthy.” You muttered petulantly, though you both knew he was probably the most healthy thing in your life emotionally, physically, and mentally. Manz was your safe space at this point.

“We both know that’s not true.” He said, smirking down at you as he clicked the TV on. (A smirk that sent your cardiovascular system reeling, but he didn’t need to know that)

“Ass. You don’t have to call me on it, let me live in my denial!” You said, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. His hands lifted off your shoulders, and for a second, you thought you were free, but his hands his hands lifted off your shoulders, replaced seconds later by his muscular arm.

Now your train of thought is gone. Well, not gone completely, but hijacked for sure. You see his lips moving, but are instead hyper focused on his touch— however platonic it was. As if it wasn’t a normal thing. As if he didn’t hug you before you leave the apartment. As if you two didn’t autonomously go for your ‘secret handshake’ every time he went to get groceries. (You usually telling him the list as we went through steps that just keep getting longer the more you do it.)

“You good, Dance Machine?” His soft question cut through your thoughts, the nickname causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Sorry, could you repeat everything you said from the past two minutes? I promise I was listening, I just-” He stopped you with a small laugh, nodding as he traced soothing circles on your shoulder as he repeated what he’d said.

“What movie are we watching?” He asked, green eyes now focused on the extensive movie collection he had, and you smile as his eyes linger on Godzilla for a second before he moves on to Pixar. If you could name one thing about your roommate that you absolutely adore, it would be that he doesn’t judge when that happens. Sometimes your brain just short circuits, and he doesn’t even mind.

“Can we watch Inside Out?” You asked softly, and his eyes flicked to yours, as he nodded.

“Ice Cream, or…?” Your heart skipped a beat, making up for it by going double-time instead. A few months ago when you’d first moved in together, he’d asked what you did when you’re stressed. You’d shrugged answering without much thought.

“i dunno, I usually dance. But when I can’t do that, I watch a movie.”

It was the convo after that when you’d revealed your comfort food was ice cream. He remembered.

“Yes please.”

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

i could never be lost, all the street signs read your name; is this the same place you once kissed me?

make yourself at home; chapter one.

6.5k. no warnings besides tension and parental disapproval and mentions of beauty standards (and tedious amounts of exposition).

(a/n: okay, favorites. to those of you that remember my tyson story, this chapter will look very familiar. i added this beautiful gif in honor of that. i promise that the other chapters (like, from three onwards) will be practically entirely new. with that being said, it is my pleasure to introduce you to olive and russell. you'll see as we progress, but do not be fooled by the "she's not like other girls" potential this story has. i hope to prove to you that the kind of beauty that i'm talking about is all about kindness and patience and thoughtfulness. all i ask is that you give this is shot. if it's not for you, if you can't look past the lack of x reader or direct hockey relationship, that's completely okay. olive, at one point, was simply "kid'" - the way some of my characters have been sugar or baby or doll. and russell was once tyson. i am incredibly nervous to share this with you, to embark and commit to sharing more with you in the future. as such, i hope you will respect and honor my vulnerability. but i'm also excited! very much so! to you and your snakes. thank you thank you thank you. and i still want to gush about hockey with you - just send me an ask! love you always).

it had probably been too long since olive fleming had been home.  it had probably been too long since she’d last ventured back to granite falls, new york, but, in her defense, the trek from los angeles was long and daunting.  olive made the trip as infrequently as possible, so each time she found herself back in this town, part of her expected it to look unrecognizable.  it never did.  

it was impossible not to recognize the slow-moving streets, lined by pine trees and the same storefronts, same quaint buildings, same lightposts that needed repairing.  every time she drove through, olive felt a stab of guilt in her chest that she swallowed down dry, like some hefty pill.  

the directions displayed on the screen of her phone were more a comfort than a necessity - she would know the route to her street blindfolded, maybe dead, but it was sort of nice to think that she needed help getting there, to think that she had grown up so much that she no longer knew this place the way you know the songs that your that dad used to play in the car on the way to school when you were young - entirely and wholly, if not a little senselessly.

in what felt like a blink, olive had already made it into the driveway, her subtly luxurious suv suddenly feeling much too big and attention-seeking.  she felt as if she might as well have been driving a limousine, maybe one of those sleek borderline race-cars painted some flashy color.  something entirely out of place, something desperately screaming look at me, even though she didn’t want anyone to see her at all.  even her reflection in the rearview mirror above the dashboard made her flinch.  meeting her own eyes was recognition enough to be jarring.

olive finally shifted her car into park and unbuckled her seatbelt, her hands still gripping the wheel hard enough that her knuckles paled.  "arrived at home," the robotic voice from her phone said, which made her choke out a short laugh, ugly and tired.  in all ways but the ones that mattered, yes, she supposed, this was home, at least for a little while longer.  just until she packed up all her things from her parents’ house, just until she drove her life back to los angeles and stayed there, this time for good.

would it be frowned upon to leave the car running? just in case she needed to make a quick exit, like some blockbuster-movie spy, tucking and rolling from a plane mid-flight?  olive groaned, laid her head down against the steering wheel, careful not to press her forehead down hard enough to honk.

this was exactly what coming home always felt like - frustration to the point of madness, self control to the point of lunacy.  home left olive crazy, either way.  

“you must be so excited to get out of your favorite city,” her manager, celeste, had said to her over the phone just before she left.  celeste was something of a close friend, after a few years of partnering and working together.  she was fully aware of olive’s subpar relationship with her hometown, but she also knew olive wasn’t the biggest fan of los angeles either.  olive had entertained the possibility that she was just hard to please on multiple occasions.

olive had laughed at this comment.  “oh, for sure,” she had agreed, “but out of the frying pan and into the fire, you know.”  Into the longest-burning fire she’d ever known.  she was thinking about that conversation with her manager when a sharp knock on her car window forced her head to snap up.  

olive’s mother, danica, was looking warily at her from the other side of the glass as she rolled down her window, blinking at the woman she hadn’t seen in a while, registering her presence while attempting to summon a normal reaction.

“hey, mom,” was the lackluster greeting olive landed on, internally cringing at her tone.  she realized she was still gripping the steering wheel and dropped her hands to her lap as if she’d been burned, the way you’re taught to when caught in a lightning storm.  

her mother let out a soft laugh, but her gaze was sharp.  “going to wait out in the car all day, are you?” she asked.  olive could feel her heartbeat in her head, the kind of pressure she always felt when on this end of her family’s disapproval.  “come in, olive, not like we get to see you every day.”

olive felt a smile stretch across her face, false and heavy like a waxy halloween mask, like her lip gloss weighed something severe.  “yeah, i’ll be right in,” she said, willing any shake out of her voice.  “it’s good to see you.”

her mother murmured her agreement before turning to head back inside, which olive supposed was better than nothing.  an important reminder that things could be so much worse, that she could be grateful for what she had, that someone better probably would be.

olive took a last stabilizing breath before finally getting out of the car, pulling her suitcases from the trunk and entering her childhood home through the front door.

she’s back? the doorbell seemed to whisper to the bushes by the porch steps, it’s been a while, no?

the bushes shook their heads in condemnation, she’s so unappreciative, they said, so selfish and vain.

“you don’t know me,” olive muttered as she lifted her luggage into the doorway, the wheels on the bottom making a clicking noise as they made contact with the hardwood of the mudroom.  she could hear her mother humming quietly in the kitchen.

“who are you talking to?” 

olive recognized that slow and deliberate voice as her father, jerry, and quickly turned to greet him, eager to change the subject away from her talking to inanimate objects and plants.  “dad,” she said, smiling at him despite his sour expression.  “how’s it going?”

“is that a new car?” he asked, bypassing a hello, his gaze already wandering from her, straying to her vehicle through the window.  her stomach turned.  she knew what was coming.  “how’d you afford a new car?”

olive laughed, like he’d said something tastefully funny, waved him off.  “my job pays me for what I do, dad,” she clarified, “you know how jobs work.”  olive regretted it immediately.  she realized how patronizing she sounded.

her father’s grimace and grumbly voice wasn’t lost on her.  “right,” he said, “your job.”  his voice took on a slight sarcastic tone at the last word, even though she supposed that was to be expected.  it still stung, just as it had before she left for college, just as it had during every venture back to granite falls before this one.  

“let her put her things away, jerry,” danica called from the next room over.  he started to roll his eyes, then appeared to remember he had an audience midway through, his annoyance dissolving instantaneously into something like boredom.  

he nodded to olive.  “off you go, then,” he said, phrasing odd and stiff, like some black-and-white film actor, making olive scrunch her nose up in distaste as she lugged her bags up the staircase and rolled them into her bedroom, the last door at the end of the hallway.

upon entering, her gaze flickered to her bed, low to the ground, the comforter a pastel pink, the sheets printed with a pretty tulip pattern.  it was every bit the bed of a child, but there was something she liked about it, even now.

olive sighed, pushed her suitcases to the closet door and left them there before sitting down on the edge of her bed, letting herself fall back until she felt the softness of her sheets on the back of her neck.  travel always took it out of her, but this fatigue went deeper than just jet lag.  it was a tiredness she felt in her chest, on the roof of her mouth, coating her throat like a lemon ginger lozenge.  

olive wanted to enjoy being home more than anything.  the desire ran so deep it felt like it had infected her bloodstream.  she wanted to feel comfortable and welcome, like she belonged here, but she didn’t, not really.  she hadn’t felt that way in a while, probably not since she was a teenager.  at twenty-two, that felt scarily long ago.  

she exhaled and rose again, looking around her room with displeasure.  the space was just so cluttered.  even her bedside table was practically overflowing with trinkets and picture frames, old books and school binders.  sorting through everything and packing it up was probably going to be quite the laborious task, could take longer than she anticipated.  was this room smaller than she remembered it?  the walls closer together, the ceiling lower, perhaps?

“dinner’s ready!”

her mother’s voice once again shook olive from her thoughts, her eyelids fluttering.  “coming!”

family dinners at the fleming household had taken on many shapes and sizes over the years.  When danica had been in the thick of her corporate law career, as demanding as anything, such events had not existed on a consistent basis.  instead, olive and her father would scramble to put together something like cereal, or pasta with butter, or if they were feeling fancy, tomato soup and grilled cheese.  olive’s mother always ate at her firm, or on the way home.  

danica, thanks to her hard work, was able to retire quite early, not into lavish wealth or anything resembling it, but early enough and into a general sense of comfort.  it was then that family dinners became a bit more frequent in the household.  after jerry got home from work, he would call olive down from her bedroom, and then the three of them would sit around their small table, chatting about whatever had occurred during the short time they had spent apart.  

of course, once olive reached a certain age, she wasn’t always around for dinner time, and her parents didn’t require her to be.  it did mean that they grew sort of out of practice though, as olive was home less and less.  when olive went to college across the country, that lack of familiarity wasn’t really felt, but whenever she was home from school, when they were all forced together again, the walls felt to olive as if they had some tripwire hidden within them, some explosive ticking regularly, louder each time that she did something that amassed disapproval.

as olive walked down the stairs now, her steps light enough to not make a sound, she attempted to mentally prepare herself, then shook her head, almost laughing.  it was funny, mentally preparing oneself for salad and roasted chicken.

“is this a new wallpaper?” olive asked cordially as she pulled a wooden chair out and sat down, folding her napkin and placing it in her lap.

“no,” danica responded.

olive had never really been able to miss the slight pinch in her mother’s brow, minute but telling in its distaste.  “same wallpaper as always.  you don’t remember?”

olive forced the corner of her mouth to turn up in a smile, but her stomach was churning with something other than travel-induced hunger.  “it looks great, was all i was going to say.  like new.”

unfortunately, such awkwardness did not evaporate as the dinner progressed, the lack of ease sitting atop the table as naturally as the floral centerpiece.  olive expertly tried to veer the conversation away from herself as gracefully as possible, instead oversaturating the discussion with questions directed at her parents.  

olive was usually quite good at saying the right thing.  it was a huge part of her job, of her success.  she knew what to say in different situations, with different people, in front of different audiences.  home left her deft tongue fumbling though, left words feeling out of reach in her mind, like her mouth was not her own.  

she asked questions about her father’s work and cooking endeavors, her mother’s home renovations and volunteer work at the daycare, but whenever they asked her about her own work, olive would clam up, maybe give that nervous laugh that she disliked so genuinely, make some joke at her own expense.  

by the end of the meal, olive was thoroughly exhausted, socially drained in a way she hadn’t been in a long time.  it didn’t really make a lot of sense to her - she could work a crowd of thousands at an awards show, craft a post palatable for millions, but a simple dinner with her family was where she stumbled?  

“thanks for having me,” was what she said to her parents after she had placed her plate and silverware in the dishwasher, drying her hands with a rag before making to head up to her room.  

this was the wrong thing to say, if her father’s voice and the twitch of his mouth was anything to go off of.  “this is your house,” he said, simple, plain, and olive didn’t even look at her mother, for fear that she’d see some kind of sadness or disappointment that would keep her awake that night.

“right, of course,” she tried, “i just mean thanks.  for, you know, letting me stay here on such short notice.”

“what, like we’re a hotel?” danica said, almost humorous, but there was a shake in her voice that olive read as a storm siren, scarily close to something disastrous.  

olive sighed.  it wasn’t her parents’ fault, and she knew that.  olive knew her wording could be taken as offensive, but she just couldn’t see it until after the words were already out, until they were of no use to anyone.  “no, just,” she tried, then gave up, figuring maybe she just needed some sleep to make her brain work again.  “goodnight.  love you both.”  she’d try again tomorrow.

danica and jerry seemed to soften a bit at this, each quietly returning the sentiment in harmony with olive’s soft footsteps up the staircase, wooden panels giving a comforting creak under her socks, some reminder that she was a physical body, that her weight could be felt.

tomorrow will be better, olive thought as she unzipped one of her suitcases, pulled out her pajamas and got changed.  what she really wanted to do was sink into her bed, sleep the day off and start fresh in the morning.  

“fifteen minutes,” she murmured to herself, her bag of skincare products in one hand, phone and ring light clawed in the other.  “just fifteen minutes.”

after several years of practice, olive could crank out a get unready with me video in just a few moments, but something about setting up her tripod and lighting mechanisms in her childhood bathroom was intimidating, the crossover of worlds leaving her sluggish and self-conscious.  

her apartment in los angeles was practically built for this kind of thing, all ample storage and spacious countertops, and this room was built to be exactly what it was: a child’s bathroom.  it offered not much other than backlighting and cramped corners, faded wallpaper and shower curtains yellowing towards the corners.

olive quickly set up, took a deep breath and summoned a smile, the one reserved for this - the one for video and film and interviews and social media posts.  just big enough to appear genuine, just subdued enough to be sexy, mysterious.  once the camera was rolling, she ran through her nighttime routine, highlighting the moisturizer she was being paid to endorse, before quickly cutting the clips and typing out a caption: get unready with me at home!  She sent the video to her management to be approved by the brand before turning off her harsh light and setting it next to her bag on the closed toilet lid.

even after several years of working in social media, several years of visiting home every now and then, it felt weird to mix the two of them together, almost like a middle school science project with oil and water, like no matter how hard she tried for it to be a natural fit, the two would always make their repulsion known.

olive brushed her teeth, her phone buzzing as she spat into the sink.  With so much of her life existing on her phone, such an occurrence was mundane, but the name that lit up her screen made her blink at herself in the mirror, made the overhead light feel hot, simmering.

are the rumors true? read the message, is the starlet back in town?

olive sighed, couldn't help the tiny smile that pulled at the corner of her lips, regardless - even though she was no starlet, even though the thought of small-town rumors made her breath feel short and shallow.

as much as coming home made her want to tear out her hair extensions one by one, as much as the monotonous judgment from this town made her almost dizzy, there was one thing, or one person rather, whose relentless sameness olive looked forward to, every time, without fail.

that person was russell mcIntyre.

olive had known russell practically forever, or at least for what felt like forever, ever since he and his family moved next door the summer before they started middle school.  she still remembered seeing him for the first time, watching from her big bedroom window as he carried boxes from his mom's minivan up his driveway.

it had started as all lovely things did - so naturally it was hard to pinpoint how exactly it had started.  olive swore she could remember his green eyes meeting her brown ones through the window, his unruly curly hair in his face, like he’d only just woken up, the easiest smile she’d ever seen slanting across his mouth, only barely visible above battered cardboard flaps.  still, she didn't dwell on what exactly had been the beginning of her and russell, knowing it didn’t really matter how it began, only that it was.

all olive really knew was that throughout middle school and high school, russell had been her everything.  her school bus seat buddy, her locker neighbor, her smile shared across the classroom.

he was the one who cheered the loudest at her tennis matches, and she never missed one of his baseball games.  he was over hers doing homework every weekday, she was the first person he picked up when he got his license, when he finally could drive his old truck without his anxious mother holding on tight in the passenger seat.  russell was her secret language spoken between opposing bedroom windows, curtains pulled far apart so as not to intrude one’s view of the other while they talked.

of course, as he shed his baby face and she got her braces off, things changed a bit, but not really.  olive was still his stop it, rus, giggled under her breath when he'd make goofy faces in class, just to get her to laugh.

russell was still her you'll be there, right, kid? spoken so earnestly on the morning of a playoff game, something like worry clouding his usually relentlessly bright eyes. worry that had floated away when she’d hugged him close, mumbled her of course into his chest.

his constant support, his never-wavering smirk of a smile, it had been exactly what she needed during one of the most turbulent times of her life.

high school is weird for everybody, but it was especially weird for olive.  she was a people pleaser, an approval seeker, and at some point she began to realize that others weren't always as forgiving as she was, that other people may not give her the benefit of the doubt, as she tended to afford them for free.

it got worse when olive realized that she was pretty.

sometimes, olive felt as if she had been beautiful since she could listen, since she could first turn her gaze on someone and make them feel heard, make them feel seen.

that was a big part of it all - her quiet kindness, combined with that lovely smile, with that careful posture and easy laugh - it seemed that others had become acutely aware of her beauty long before she had.  She caught on, eventually.

olive was sixteen when she started to feel the weight of male attention on her in the hallways, when her bare legs in the warm weather started to feel heavy with expectation, when she started to notice how groups of girls would turn and giggle behind their hands when they thought she was just out of earshot.

it was exciting, at first.  girls wanted to talk to her, to be close with her.  guys wanted to hang out with her.  people wanted to give her things, seemingly for nothing.  she distinctly remembered one humid night, in russell's bedroom, just after he had driven them both home after his practice.  his hair had been damp at the roots, his face still a bit flushed in that rosy way she loved.

he'd been scrolling on his phone while she worked on a geometry problem set, half-focused, the other half telling him about the senior in her economics class who had asked for her snapchat.  olive could still picture russell’s narrow gaze, barely looking up from his screen.

"you know he doesn't want to, like, marry you, right, ol?" he'd said, and it was so flippant that it made her pause.

olive had looked up, blinked, felt suddenly so embarrassed she thought she might be sick. "what?" she asked, "yeah, of course, I just-"

"like, he knows nothing about you besides you being hot," russell finished, almost coldly, rolling onto his side on the beanbag he was sprawled across.

and he was right, obviously, but it still felt really mean, felt like tiny drops of flame were pricking at her cheeks.  olive felt that she actually might cry.

"why do you have to say it like that?" she’d asked, hating how pathetic her voice sounded, how it broke towards the end.

this must have gotten his attention, because when russell finally looked up, his eyes flooded with gentle apology.  he let his phone fall to the side, opened up his arms in invitation.

"i’m sorry," he mumbled into her hair when she joined him on his beanbag, let him wrap his arms around her. "'m sorry, ol, know that was mean.  i'm just jealous, i think."  his tone was so matter-of-fact, not trying to hide anything. olive supposed he had always been like that.

she laughed softly into his breastbone, felt the warmth of him all over her face. "you're jealous?" she asked, "what do you have to be jealous about?"

then he gave olive her favorite kind of smile, the one that gave her butterflies even now, even just at the memory.  "maybe 'cause you're in my room, and you're smilin' 'cause of some other guy," he mused, which made her look up at him, find his gaze drenched in completely genuine adoration.

she hummed.

"and i've been trying to get you to see that i like you, and it hasn't been working-"

her heart stuttered, because of course she liked russell.  how could she not, when he was her everything?  when he had been the one who had declared her special, before everyone else had seemed to catch on?

"you like me?" olive had repeated, almost like a prayer, and his big, beautiful eyes had shimmered with something lovely, something almost bashful.

olive swore she could feel something rumbling against his chest.  "well, yeah," he said, "but i don't wanna lose you, kid, so if you don't feel the same way-"

she’d cut him off by pressing her lips to his in a kiss that felt like sunshine, like a sigh of relief, like pillow forts and fall foliage and sunday morning waffles.  so, from then on, not only was olive the beautiful girl, she was the beautiful girl dating the budding baseball superstar, her best friend, her everything.  

as such, olive was seventeen when she realized that as much as it may have seemed that people wanted to give her things, they wanted to take things from her more.  much more.  still, as long as she had her small group of friends, and her grades, and her parents, and russell, she told herself she didn't really need everyone to love her.

as long as she was kind and generous and empathetic, everything would be fine.

it grew tough to turn the other cheek all the time, though.  especially when guys didn't seem to respect that she was in a relationship, when people were starting rumors about her sleeping around, when girls tried to get with her boyfriend just to prove they could take him from her.  they were never successful, but it hurt nonetheless. 

still, she would go to every one of russell's games, as long as he would jog to the fence afterwards to give her a goofy kiss, like he'd missed her, even for just the few hours he'd been playing.

olive would ignore the snide comments in the stands about her outfits as long as he'd whistle afterwards, wrap his arms around her waist, pull her back against him and tell her that he almost dropped an easy ball in the third because she had looked so distracting.

she’d let people assume that she was dumb and obnoxious and entitled as long as he'd ask her about her advanced calculus tests, her data analytics internship over the summer, her speech and debate competition. and that was enough.  for high school, that was enough.

inevitably, it became clear that people wanted what olive had, no matter what it was, no matter how hard she had worked for it.

olive was eighteen when she realized that she could make a career out of people wanting things that she had.

as much as her parents didn’t seem to believe her, social media was something olive stumbled upon accidentally.

just a random post one day, a couple of pictures of her on the tennis court, a few of her in the stands at one of Russell's games, and rather suddenly, olive was flushed with followers and likes, more than she knew what to do with.

of course, this only made the rumors worse, but her real friends thought it was funny, and russell thought it was awesome, so she didn't mind.  she just continued posting exactly what she always did - her outfits and weekends and dinners and the like - nothing crazy, always tasteful, always genuine.

it was only a matter of time before brands were reaching out to her, before she suddenly had the need for management, before her social media accounts actually started to become a source of income.

even at the very beginning, olive recognized how lucky she was for this to even be an option for her - how it was mostly because of something as shallow as appearances, how there was nothing more vain, more potentially vapid than social media.

she never cared about the numbers of it all though, never looked twice at pictures of herself, never scrolled through her comments.  russell was always the first to like her posts anyways, always commenting first! followed by a string of incoherent emojis, usually including the flame one.  once it started to become a business, olive let it be just a business, trying her absolute hardest not to invest any personal stock into her work, making sure to turn her phone off as often as possible.

russell would text her, too, after she posted, something like love the filter on the second photo! or quite the handsome hand in the fourth :) about a picture of her coffee that he was holding.  enough to let her know that he looked at every picture, that he supported her unconditionally, even though olive herself sort of thought the whole ordeal was kind of suspicious, that social media was dumb and not worth anyone's time.  her skepticism of her own work was something of an obstacle then and something of constant now.

given the flash-flood-like nature of her success, olive was at a bit of a crossroads towards the end of high school.  she wanted to get a college degree, that was non-negotiable, but it seemed too good to be true that she could be paid just for being herself online, just for developing a personal brand.  it seemed too good to pass up.

before she knew it, it was time to apply for university, and it only made sense for olive to aim at schools in los angeles, across the country, but right in the arrhythmic heart of her industry.

olive was a good student too, and a hard worker, a quick learner, so she was accepted to her top choice, a school that her parents could brag to their friends about, if they wanted to.  

everything about olive’s choice made logical sense.

just as it only made sense for russell to play for the state school, the reigning champions of their respective league and only a forty-five minute drive from granite falls.

he’d been getting recruited since he was a freshman, and even though he offered every day, the thought of russell changing his whole plan and future for her made olive nauseous.  

long distance loomed over the two of them like a thunderous cloud, and the weight of it felt more deadly than just calling it off, even though splitting up with Russell was still the most painful thing olive could remember enduring.

she vividly remembered him dropping her off at the airport, insisting on carrying her suitcases all the way to security, even if he had to leave his truck idle in the departing flight zone, even though he was definitely going to get a ticket about it.

of course, she still remembered how his bright eyes had gone glassy, how he still tried to smile despite his slightly quivering bottom lip.  how he'd shuddered in her embrace when she hugged him goodbye.  how small his broad shoulders had seemed.

"you'll come back, kid?" he'd asked, almost pleaded, into her neck.

"of course, rus," she’d said, but even the memory of the words felt weightless. "don't forget to call me, okay?  every day, if you can."

he had laughed, short and choppy, wiped at his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, like the child that he had been.  his voice was wobbly.  "i’d never forget," he said, and it had felt true then.

and so olive and her everything went separate ways.  she fell into a routine in california, balanced school and her relatively new job as an influencer.  russell had a routine of his own, too, practice and lifts and games and the odd class here and there.

she called everyday, in the beginning, heard about how everyone was really good on rus’s new team, how he was nervous on the field for basically the first time ever, how classes were hard and everything was hard without her.

olive told him about how smart and cool the girls in her classes were, how she really, really wanted them to like her, how she found herself going to baseball games in the fall just because it felt familiar, something to recognize in an unfamiliar fairytale land.

he'd gotten a sad sort of tone in his voice at that.  "how's their shortstop?" he had asked, and her stomach had flipped, because that was his position, and she had a feeling she knew what he was looking for, the only answer that would satisfy him.

"i've seen better," olive had whispered into her phone, the weight of missing him like an anvil on her chest.

even though she and russell weren't together, at that time, in the technical sense of the word, it still sort of felt like they were.

there were guys, sure, and she could only guess what a hit russell was with the sorority end of greek row.  olive wasn’t typically a jealous person, but something sickly rolled through her body at the thought of russell being someone’s class crush, of someone looking him up on the roster after seeing him play.  it was a jealousy that she wasn’t necessarily entitled to, but it was there nonetheless.

olive pretended not to notice, over facetime, when there would be purplish bruises on the column of his throat.  she pretended not to notice how angry it made her that someone else knew what his pulse felt like under their lips, especially when it was that feeling in particular that had made its way into her dreams.

just as russell probably pretended not to notice when the back of some other guy's head would make an appearance in one of olive’s posts, just intriguing and secretive enough to run up the comments, to make her interaction data spike.

even during those years apart, russell still liked every single one of her pictures, still texted her about almost every one of them, but for those ones, the ones that shimmered with someone-else-ness, he was notably silent.  during those times, olive would find herself checking her phone even without a ping-like notification, like her want alone could will his name onto her screen.

neither of them seemed to like the notion that one had an entire life away from the other.  both of them seemed to agree that what they couldn’t see right in front of them couldn't hurt them, as long as they didn’t let it.

every school break though, without fail, the two of them would come home and fall back into whatever they were, without explicitly saying what that was.

What olive knew was that when they were home for thanksgiving, or christmas, or a week in spring, or whatever else, her phone would light up with a text like heard you're around?

usually the night that followed would involve huddling together on the massive bean bag that was still in his room, pretending to watch a movie for a half-hour or so before his lips found hers and her hands found the warm plane of his chest.  the air would be hot with the unspoken truth of just one more time, just until i leave, just for a second because i missed you.

he never treated her differently, never made fun of her job, even though it would have been so easy to, never was anything but supportive.  he was the same gangly boy walking up his driveway, and she was the same shy girl looking at him from her bedroom window, even if that shy girl now had hair extensions and a bit of lip filler and received invitations to black-tie events.

russell never seemed to care about all of that, anyways, even as years went on, and they both returned home less and less, texts and calls becoming less frequent, the distant presence of the other like the lull of a fan at night, a relaxant, a constant white noise, a standard off of which to judge everything else.

now, as olive turned the light out in the bathroom and walked towards her bed, she stared out her window, could almost make russell out in the one just across from her if she tried.  the image of him wasn’t particularly hard to evoke, always waiting just in the wings of the playwright’s perfectly scripted performance in her mind.  olive leaned back against her headboard, stared at the text.  there was a bittersweet sort of taste in her mouth, because this actually would be the last time.

olive and russell had both graduated about a month ago, and after being picked in the draft by the team he had grown up cheering for, he had moved back home to play for their minor league affiliate, not even twenty minutes from his parents’ house, hoping to gain enough traction to eventually earn a spot in the big leagues.

this time would be olive's last routine visit home, one she hoped to spend packing and shipping all of her stuff back to la.  the move only made sense.  she had an absurd amount of followers now, and all her biggest partners were located in southern california.  olive couldn’t really afford to make decisions that didn’t make sense, at this point in her life, in her career.

this would be her last routine visit home, and then upstate new york wouldn't be home anymore.  los angeles would officially occupy that space in her life.  the thought wasn’t as comforting as she hoped it would be.

olive pulled her blush-colored comforter up to her chin, thinking about what to respond, if she even should respond.  the last time she’d seen russell, the last time they’d both been home, they’d done what they always did - fall back into each other so easily it felt like falling asleep.  but that couldn’t happen this time, olive reminded herself.  when she left granite falls this time, she was leaving for good.  her exit would be smoother if she didn’t follow russell into any territory other than the friendly kind.  

they had been friends at first, all that time ago, after all.  how hard could it be to go back to that?

i'm home but we can't fuck because i think i’ll cry if we do! olive typed, then promptly deleted.  she sighed, exhaled some of her anxiety, willed herself to just be normal.  barely in the driveway, she sent instead, how did you already know?

got eyes and ears everywhere, russell sent back almost immediately, and she could practically see his smug smile.  it lit up her dark room like a night light.  told dyl at the library to watch for your car.

olive had no idea who dyl was, but figured she’d probably meet him.  she softened to russell’s message, but it made her feel sort of guilty too, with the knowledge that she would be blindsiding him some time soon.  yet he was, telling his friends to watch for her car, like her arrival was something special, something worth waiting for.

she didn’t know what to say then, so olive just set her phone on her bedside table and tried not to let visions of deep green eyes drown her while she slept.

fin. until next time.

[pleasebendmeoverxxx]

Meant to be

Hi everyone, just to remind you that my first language is not English hihi

No smut(yet) just a cute fluff

“Finally, im going to tell you that you have to make a presentation about what we talked about today with a partner by the end of the next week.” The teacher speaks as I sigh,

I see fellow students looking at their friends because they want to work together.

I wasn't very popular, I didn't have many friends in class. I had Chris and Nick as friends, but they weren't in my class but their brother was, Matt. he is also a friend of mine but i think he is not as interested in me as nick and chris are,

mostly because he has a girlfriend and she thinks that me and Matt shouldn't be friends because I'm a girl, I think that's stupid and I think she should trust Matt more. she is in the same class as me btw.

“okay guys be quiet because I choose the groups” the teacher speaks.

I was happy because I think if we were allowed to choose I would be left alone.

the groups are chosen and matt's girlfriend is put with a boy and I see that she immediately starts flirting with him but matt doesn't see that. she doesn't deserve matt. And it makes me angry

After a few other students are put together, Matt and I are left and we are put together. I don't really care because I am happy that at least I have been put together with a person who I know better than the rest in my class.

I look at Matt and see that he is looking behind him at his girlfriend who is looking at him with an irritating look as if it was his fault that he has to work with me.

“That's it for today, have fun and enjoy your weekend" The teacher speaks.

I walk out of class wanting to say something to Matt but I see him walking with his stupid girlfriend, I roll my eyes and walk in the other direction knowing that I will see him in the weekend.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

I come home tired and rush up the stairs to my room and plop down on my bed as quickly as I can, I fall asleep.

After an hour I am woken up by my ringing phone i pick up "finally, I've been waiting for hours for you to pick up" "nick?" I say in a sleepy voice not hearing who I was on the phone with "no stupid! it's Chris"

“ohh hi, what’s up” i asked him

“Oh nothing.. I'm just bored and would like to watch a movie with you” he says

“Okay..on my way!” I say happily

I put on a gray top with gray sweatpants, I didn't wear a bra underneath, knowing that I feel very comfortable with them so I didn't care. I grabbed my keys and left

Chris,Matt and Nick live on the same street so I didn't have to walk that far before I was already there.

I knocked on the door and Chris opened it and he hugged me and says "I missed you" I say "I missed you to" as I walk inside

“What movie you wanne watch?” He says

“ohh i want a horrormovie” i smile at him

We are now lying together under a blanket, with my face resting on my shoulder, almost falling asleep.

until I hear some screaming from upstairs, it was a girl and Matt arguing "who is that" I say in a sleepy voice, knowing for sure who it was

"it's Matt and his girlfriend, god I hate her.. Matt has been so stressful lately because of her" Chris says “yeah i feel bad for him too, i saw her flirting with another guy today” i say as Chris rolled his eyes.

We continue watching the movie again.

less than 10 minutes later, Matt's girlfriend storms downstairs leaving the house

me and chris look at her with wide eyes

We look at each other and try to ignore it until Matt comes down the stairs with a sigh and plops down next to us looking tired.

“You good bro” Chris asked him.

“no man, I hate her so much and I'm really done with it, she's selfish and she's way too jealous, every time I even stand next to a girl she gets angry” Matt says with angry voice

“I get you Matt, today she was even flirting with a boy from our class, can you believe that?…you deserve better Matt" I say

Chris says "you broke up with her, right?”

“Yhea..don't worry, I'm definitely not going to let myself treat like that” Matt says

“Wanne watch a movie with us” I say as I get up to get some snacks “yhea” Matt says

I come back with some ships in a bowl and I sit among the brown-haired boys we continue watching the movie until I feel myself drifting off to sleep. Matt realizes that my head is resting on his shoulder and starts blushing.

Matt was so happy and relieved that he had broken up with his girlfriend, that he no longer cared that he was blushing for his friend, he felt me ​​move in my sleep placing my leg over his lower body. now me cuddling him in my sleep as if it were my bed pillow

he feels himself getting harder when he feels my nipples through my t-shirt on his chest

Matt now blushing even harder,

“ahw look how cute” chris says to matt as he takes out his phone and takes a picture of us, not knowing it was with a flash. "oops" chris says giggling "shhh" matt shushed chris as I woke up,

not knowing what was happening and I looked into Matt's eyes then I realized that I was almost lying on top of him with my whole body, cuddling him like a baby.

“Omg!… i-i ueh im sorry Matt” i stood up blushing crazy at him. Matt giggled when he saw me blush "its okay you just fell a sleep" he says "yhea hugging him like you are a little baby" chris says when i try to hit him with my hand but he protects himself with his own hands.

“Im to tired for this Chris i wanne go sleep ” i say rubbing my eyes “yhea maybe you can go sleep with matty” he laughed at me as i try to find my shoes

I mean i would’t mind hehe

I just rolled my eyes at him going to the kitchen for a glass of water “you know you can sleep here, i mean nick is out of town so his bed is free”

“No,no its okey” i say while giving them one last big hug knowing i will see them tomorrow…

“goodnight” “see you tomorrow” they say as i walked away from the house to my own

thinking about what i'm going to do tomorrow with chris and matt knowing that it will be a bit fun and even more fun now that I know that Matt is single again and I no longer have to adhere to a distance rule from his stupid ex

To be continued…

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[just-dreaming-marvel]

I'm From Brooklyn, Too ~ 164

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

I'M FROM BROOKLYN, TOO MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,800ish

Summary: Y/N and Bucky have a date.

Notes: Sorry it took so long and I hope this isn't trash!

“Why the hell am I so nervous, Nat? It’s not like Buck and I haven’t been on a date before.”

“But have you? Like before the war, were they official dates?”

“Well, no.”

“And when Bucky was in Wakanda?”

“I’d call those dates.”

“Okay. But, have the two of you ever had sex?”

“…No…”

“This is your first real date with Bucky. And that’s completely okay. You two have lived long and very hard lives.”

“Nat—“

“No. No second guesses. This is your chance. Yours and Bucky’s.”

“But I can’t just think about me. I’m a mother. I have Morgan, who happens to be Howard Stark’s grandchild. Which, if you remember, the Winter Soldier killed and I—“

“Okay, okay, breathe.” Natasha held Y/N’s head in her hands. “Bucky loves Morgan, and Morgan already loves Bucky. Right now, you and Bucky need to figure out what type of love remains between the two of you. Whatever happens, will happen, and that’s okay. Just enjoy this small sense of normalcy by going on this date and take it from there.”

“I don’t know if I would survive all this without you, Nat.”

Natasha smiled. “I know. Now, you have a nice night. I’m going to pick up Morgan, and we’re going to come back and have a movie night. I called and had the New York penthouse cleaned up if you need it. Stay out. Stay the night. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

“You think of absolutely everything.”

“Again, I know… Also, Clint is asking when we’re all coming to visit.”

“Uh… two weeks?”

“I’ll let him know.” Natasha squeezed Y/N’s shoulder. “Don’t overthink this. This is a fresh start. Have fun.”

~~~

Happy drove Y/N into the city despite her saying that she could herself. He had to remind Y/N that she was under heavy watch since she freaked out on live television. Giving her the ultimatum that it was either Happy driving her or Rhodey’s security detail, Y/N went with Happy.

“You’re nervous,” Happy stated, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror.

“I’ve got to tone it down,” Y/N muttered. “My powers could act up.”

“Tony already gave you his blessing.”

“I know…”

“All he ever wanted was your happiness.”

“I miss him.”

“Me too… Don’t let him get in the way tonight. Let yourself be in the moment with Barnes. You both need it.”

“Will you be staying close by tonight?”

“I’ll be just a phone call away.”

Y/N sighed in relief. “Thanks, Hap… for everything.”

Happy shot Y/N a smile from the rearview mirror. “Of course.”

Y/N’s fingers anxiously tapped on her knee. She was trying to watch herself and remain calm, feeling her power want to bubble to the surface. It needed to stay concealed tonight. Y/N couldn’t let herself get too emotional or anxious that her power got in the way. Y/N inhaled sharply as Happy pulled up to Bucky’s apartment building and parked. He turned around.

“If you really don’t want to do this, we can go back home,” he told her. Y/N knew that he was serious.

“I think I’ll be good, Hap,” she replied.

“You call me the second you need out. I’ll be here. And if Barnes does anything you don’t want—“

“I’ll call you, Happy, before I burn the place down.” Y/N reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “Thanks for caring.”

He patted Y/N’s hand. “Always. Now go have fun.”

Y/N gave him a smile before getting out of the car. Happy watched as she slowly entered the building. He could only hope that she’d let herself relax and have fun tonight. Y/N needed it more than most.

~~~

Bucky was freaking out. He had cleaned his apartment what felt like a thousand times. He had planned and replanned this date a bunch, too, ending up deciding to make dinner for Y/N and have a chill night at his place. Bucky had started putting dinner together in the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. He walked over and peered through the peephole on the door. Y/N was standing on the other side, nervously looking around and nibbling on her lip. Bucky took a deep breath before opening his door.

“Hi,” he greeted as Y/N’s eyes met his.

“Hi,” she replied with a timid smile.

“Come in.” Bucky stepped back, opening the door wider for her.

“Thanks.” 

Y/N came into his apartment and looked around. The apartment was a small one-bed, one-bathroom. The place was barely furnished. There wasn’t anything on the walls, no pillows on the couch. There was a small kitchen with an island all set to eat, a couch, and a TV. 

“I know it’s not much,” Bucky said, almost ashamed.

“It’s perfect, Buck,” Y/N responded. “Are we staying in tonight?”

“If that’s okay with you.”

“It’s perfect.”

He motioned to the bar stools. “Take a seat. I’ll get you a drink.”

Y/N nodded, moving to take a seat. “Do you need any help with dinner?”

“I’ve got it handled. You just sit there.” He handed you a drink.

“So I get a show too? I think I could get used to this.”

The banter and light conversation flowed smoothly between the two as Bucky finished putting dinner together. Bucky and Y/N fell into a comfortable silence as they began eating.

“This is very good, Buck,” Y/N praised. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“I watch a lot of cooking shows since I don’t sleep,” Bucky responded. Y/N’s heart broke at the admission, and Bucky could see it all over her face. He simply shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

“What still haunts you?”

“Everything.”

Y/N reached over and rested her hand against his. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing for you to apologize for.”

“What—Maybe I— I think I could help you.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I could never take advantage of —“

“I want to help you, Bucky. If you’ll let me.”

Bucky’s hand turned over to grip Y/N’s hand better. He stared at it as he rubbed his fingers against her hand. He knew that Y/N meant well and that she only wanted to help, but he didn’t want her to use her powers for something that she may not be comfortable with.

“I think you’re forgetting that I can read minds,” she smirked, having heard his thoughts. Standing up, she moved closer to Bucky. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t comfortable with it. But I won’t do anything that you aren’t comfortable with.”

“I’ll let you help me sleep, just this once.”

“But I—“

“Just for tonight… As long as you’ll stay with me.” Y/N took in a sharp breath. “Nothing sexual. Just… two old friends helping each other out.”

Y/N lifted Bucky’s hand and kissed the back of it. “And what are you helping me out with exactly?”

“Come on, doll, I know that sleep is hard for you to come by, too.” Y/N looked away, guiltily. Bucky’s free hand came up to her chin, and gently guided her head to look back at him. “You’ve had the weight of the world on your shoulders for years as an Avenger and wielder of these powers. You also have a daughter who lost her father and her uncle, and you have lost your husband and your brother. Look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve slept well.” The two both knew that she couldn’t do it. “I understand if you need to get back to Morgan, though.”

“Natasha already has plans with Morgan.”

Bucky chuckled. “Of course she does. Always steps ahead of everyone.” He pulled Y/N into him, breath fanning over her lips. “Are you okay with this plan?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, her eyes glancing down to his lips. “We should, uh, clean up.”

“Okay.” He moved and kissed Y/N’s cheek. “Let’s clean up.”

The tension built as the two worked together in silence to clean up dinner. After it was cleaned, Bucky and Y/N found themselves facing each other on opposite ends of the small kitchen.

“I, uh, I don’t have anything to sleep in,” Y/N mumbled.

“I think I have something,” Bucky said. He hurried to his room, coming back with a shirt and some basketball shorts. “Will these work?”

“Yeah,” Y/N took the clothes from him, “thanks.”

“The bathroom is just down the hall, you can change in there.”

Y/N nodded as she headed to the bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror, she took a few deep breaths. This night had gone good so far and she didn’t want to ruin the rest of it. Changing into the borrowed clothes, she folded up her other clothes and left them on the counter. When Y/N exited the bathroom, she saw Bucky nervously pacing his bedroom. He stopped when he sensed her and turned.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable, Buck,” she said, stepping into the room.

“I just… I don’t want you to see what I’ve done,” he admitted, hanging his head. “I don’t want you to look at me the way others do…”

“Bucky,” Y/N hurried across the room and took ahold of both of his hands. “I would never look at you any different because of what you were forced to do… It wasn’t you, Buck, it was the Winter Soldier and you deserve some peace.” Y/N let go of his hands to hold his face gently. “Let me help you get some peace, at least for one night.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Bucky, you deserve the world. Lay down.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment before following the order he had been given. Y/N watched as Bucky lay on the bed. He was stiff and clearly uncomfortable on the bed, but Y/N was hoping to change that. She came around the bed and crawled across it to kneel beside him.

“I’ve never done this before, so be patient,” Y/N said.

“I trust you, doll,” Bucky responded. 

Y/N placed her hands on either side of Bucky’s head. He watched as she closed her eyes and different colors of tendrils appeared from her fingertips and began to swirl around his head. Slowly, the Winter Soldier memories of his mind began to dim. They were still there but not as prominent as before. His eyes began to feel heavy. Bucky tried to fight it but eventually lost. Before he slipped into sleep, he could feel Y/N’s lips brush against his forehead.

“Sleep well, James,” she whispered. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

next chapter >

[io-lu-art]

do you watched pride and prejudice ?

If I may rephrase your question, my dear:

*holds a finger into the air* How many times have I watched the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice?

[shirogane-oushirou]

no promises anymoooooreeeee i'll appear online when i appear online 😭 every time i say "ooh i think life is almost done being overwhelming!" it. becomes even more overwhelming in the dumbest ways. all i can manage rn when i'm not stressing myself into a shut-down state is staring at the wall while listening to youtube essays + mindlessly crocheting.

i might queue up ppls art and fics w/o commentary in the tags... i want other ppl to see what all of my cool friends have made, but i genuinely can't think right now with this monstrous brain fog. i'm really sorry, just. yeah. maybe i'll think of some way to make it up later!!! once the dust has settled!!!! but until then i wuv u and miss u. smiles.

[venting in tags including familial manipulation and ableism. i. didn't mean to write all of that, thiss was originally going to be a main blog post but. aaaaaAAAAAA!!!!!

also no need for replies or anything, i'd turn them off for just the one post if i could kjsndkn, i just needed to get things out and go eep jsjndsfdn ok bye bye bye bye!!!!]

[xviruserrorx]

I don't understand why people get frustrated at things they knew were gonna happen because someone else is chronically I'll and it's happened multiple times before so it's not like it's new, like oh yeah sorry for existing like this

[screampied]

‘ I JUST WANNA HEAR YOU (S)CREAMMM ! ’

ᡴꪫ sum. what’s your favorite scary movie? is it carrie? psycho? or maybe nightmare on elm street? perhaps picking up the phone was a bad idea, but you don’t scare easily! or do you?

wc. 6.0k

warnings. fem! reader, ghostface geto & ghostface nanami, college au, threesōmes, unprotected, brief phone sēx, roleplay, dirty talk, praise, overstim, implied multiple ōrgasms, spit, manhandling, brēeding, hair pulling, oral (f & m receiving), cowgirl dp.

an. from this ask!

“hello.”

“hello?”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

you deadpan, almost as if you’ve seen this movie before. it was around close to midnight. you were the only one sober at some random frat party you got dragged to. everyone besides you were probably wasted or shoving tongues into mouths. sitting up on a cushioned bed, you hold the landline up to your ear. “mean girls two. bye.”

“….girl what? that’s not a—”

you hang up, averting your eyes back towards the tv screen that displayed some cheesy soap opera. about precisely thirteen seconds pass before the landline screeches a loud deafening ring again.

sighing, you answer it. “stop calling this number. prank calls aren’t funny.”

“no.” the voice replies, and it’s very deep—you swear you’ve heard something like it before. a best way to describe it was that it had a gruff pitch to it, baritone running all underneath it. his voice was also a bit sly too. “i just wanna talk to you.”

“bother some other girl. bye.”

“don’t hang up on me.”

for whatever reason, you don’t hang up. his voice sounded a bit stern—you sit up before growing quiet. you’re fully alert now.

“good girl. now, i’ll ask again. what’s your favorite scary movie?”

pressing your back against the comforter, your thighs squeeze together. with another vexed sigh, you say the most random movie that comes immediately to mind. “halloween.”

“pft. basic.”

“wha— you’re the one who asked.”

“oh, doll i’m just joking. but anyway, you like slasher movies, yeah?”

for whatever reason, the more you talked to this total stranger, you start to feel a sudden uncanny stir delve around your stomach. you weren’t scared, yet at least, but it was oddly peculiar. his voice sounds a bit familiar the more you listen to it. with how teasing the caller on the other line appeared, it was strangely intriguing. you kind of didn’t wanna hang up anymore, besides this party you were at was quite … not the best.

“not really. i am a jamie lee curtis fan though, i only watched because i make fun of the deaths.” you mumble.

“hmmm,” the voice hums through the other end. it’s as if he’s pondering what his next choice of words will be to you. “so…you got a boyfriend?”

you were taken aback by how abrupt the change of subject was. the man on the other end laughs at your awkward silence before you finally speak.

“no, and it’s not like it’s any of your business.”

“easy, girl. i’m just curious. besides, what if i wanna ask ya out?”

you grow quiet again before rubbing your neck, you were growing a bit hot.

“whatever. no, i don’t have a … boyfriend.”

“ooh. you hesitated there.”

you grumble. “shut up. i’m hanging up.”

the man immediately replies with a chortle.

“wait, wait. heh, serious though. you never told me your name, doll face.”

with an eye roll, you utter, “why do you wanna know my name?”

“because i wanna know who i’m looking at.”

“what?”

“what?”

each word he spoke breaks through the phone due the deep mess of his voice. a few rough sparks from his dialogue punctures through the soundbox of the device. again, he did sound oddly familiar. you just couldn’t put your foot on it.

the man chuckles before responding in a more sly tone—changing the subject again.

“you know doll, you sound kind of out of breath. call me crazy, but before i called you, were you playing with yourself?”

your legs suddenly squeeze shut, you were wearing one of your borrowed hoodies and shorts underneath. any sane person would have hung up eons ago, but for whatever reason—you felt your heartbeat start to race. the more you listened to the deep voice on the other end, the more you started to grow more curious. what’s wrong with playing around for a little bit? besides, what’s the worst thing that could happen—you dying?

you scoff, thinking this was nothing more than a dumb prank call—you decided that playing along wouldn’t hurt. you had nothing else to do anyway.

“so what if i was playing with myself?”

“i bet you didn’t even make yourself finish, doll.”

his voice, the more it spoke in that rough pitched tone—you couldn’t help but press the landline up to your ear just a bit further. you furrow your curled up brows, lowering your guard a bit. probably foolish, maybe you’d regret this later, but alas, reality wasn’t on your mind at the moment.

“are you saying you can make me finish?” you mutter, growing amused now.

“oh i know i can. i can make you get off from just from my voice alone.”

he was toying with you, but it was too late to back down. you intake a honed breath before humming.

“okay, prove it then.”

he chuckles.

“mhm. take those panties off first. actually no, slide them to the side for me.”

you really felt like you were in a movie, shamelessly at this random guy’s beck and call. as the show played in the background, you press the middle part of your thumb against the volume button to turn it down four notches. the room was practically silent now, the only noises heard were from the blaring beat drops of edm music downstairs. sprawling your legs out, you creep a shaking hand between your thighs.

the voice grows quiet, you finally move your panties toward the side before slouching back against the pillow.

“you must be really bored. talking to a random girl at the m-midnight.” you exhale.

“heh, m-maybe,” he mocks your falter. “but i’m sure you’ll keep me entertained with that cute voice of yours.”

he was so smooth. smooth as if he was prepared for every word that flew out of your mouth. as your fingers glide against your now exposed entrance, you let off a shaky breath.

he was right, out of boredom you tried to play with yourself— yet, that didn’t work out because you could never make yourself finish. your attempt was basically useless. with a frowning pout, you reply. “now what?”

“finger yourself, silly. and i wanna hear, put the phone up against that pussy for me, doll.”

he was filthy.

you felt yourself start to throb before removing the landline from against your ear and placing it right against your doused entrance.

with heavy jagged breaths becoming more irregular, the person on the other line hears the wet sloshes of your cunt up against the phone. again, he grows quiet—it’s almost like you can make out his deep attractive breaths and it makes you pulse even more.

“bet you’re so nice ‘n soaked. sounds so sloppy.”

gnawing on the softness of your bottom lip, your thumb briefly skims past the nub of your clit and you whine. you were already a bit sensitive from before, starting to stroke your fingers against it. bringing the phone back up to your ear, you ease a single finger inside. it feels warm—you were slick, coating your own finger with a nice amount of your obscene arousal. it doesn’t take long for you to start to pant, slithering another finger inside of your cunt before moaning. it fits nicely, nice and snug.

“you sound so pretty. i want you to imagine those are my fingers, pretty girl. can ya do that?”

“y-yeah,” you start to stammer, feeling a sudden spongey texture inside of you—you gasp, not expecting to reach your sweetened g-spot so soon. it was a mere bumpy texture, gloopy gummy walls involuntarily accepting your two slender fingers with an open gesture. “fuck, ‘m still a bit sensitive.”

he guffaws lowly.

“yeah, i bet you are. poor baby can’t even make herself cum.”

you swallow, the playfulness in his voice making your thighs start to tremble a bit. with relaxed fingers stretching throughout your walls, you focus on your breathing. each pant that came out of your hot breaths seemed like it was gonna be your last. after a while, your toes start to curl up in pure pleasure—you moan, feeling a sudden rush of weightlessness nirvana overtake you.

“find your g-spot for me. tell me when you do.”

“i- i already found it,” you whine, a sheaf of nerves that store inside of your pussy pulsating at a rapid speed. your head throws itself back as you’re just moaning melodically. “fuck, why don’t you just come over ‘n finish for me already.”

the voice laughs again.

“yeah? you want me to come over instead? maybe i should use my tongue since your fingers are so useless, dollface.”

at this point, you didn’t really care. maybe making simple rational decisions today just wasn’t in your favor. the eerie voice, each second you spent listening to it the more aroused you became. maybe getting off to a pure stranger’s voice was embarrassing but you were feening. the air felt suddenly thick. so thick you could cut it with a knife. with your bottom lip being chewed on like gum, you briskly shiver. cold, wintry air wafts against your skin and you moan for the nth time. an unforeseen chill runs down your spine before you hold back yet another whine.

“f-fuck, just come ‘n finish for me. i can’t do it. please.”

he grows quiet for a solid good four seconds before replying in a cheeky tone.

“okay. turn around.”

your panting stops and instantly, you turn your head the other way—of course, no one was there. figures, the only things your eyes were met with was the wooden headboard. with a disappointed grimace, pulling your occupied fingers out of your cunt, you turn back around. as you’re about to speak into the phone again, you open your mouth before pausing.

there, you’re met face first with what appears to be some guy in an infamous ghostface costume. he was tall, staggering inches on him before you don’t see one but two. they both had the same getup, ghoulish ghost mask, a long black robe, and the same spectral, tilting head-stance.

one of them takes off a mask and it’s suguru geto, your roommate.

your eyes concisely widen. once he yanks off the mask, his silky well-kept black strands fly loose. no wonder the voice sounded a tad bit familiar. the other removes his mask and it was nanami, two of them—now you really felt like you were in a movie. “you always did say how much you liked scream,” and then you glance at nanami who had a sheepish expression. “don’t be shy now, someone’s gotta help ya finish.”

“o-oh,” you remember, sitting up against the bed. now you were embarrassed. just a few seconds ago, you were getting off to your roommate’s voice. suddenly, you felt even more hot. you did end up talking their ear off about your adoration for the beloved franchise, ranting about your cute little ghostface obsession.

truth be told though, you didn’t know they’d make it a sheer reality for you. the two of them get on the bed towards you before nanami brings a gloved hand to your chin. he strokes your chin softly, and geto moves underneath.

“sorry princess,” he whispers. “suguru wanted to scare you but i told him we should just show ourselves,” and as he’s speaking, you get lost in his soft, honeydew eyes. such gentle compared to geto who was a bit more—crazed. “he didn’t scare you too bad, did he?”

you moan once you feel geto run a thumb against your already exposed cunt. with a firm head shake, you huff. “no, n-not really.”

“aw what. i thought i was pretty scary,” and you whimper out once he blows against your folds. for a concise moment, geto stares up at you—dark eyes keeping a strong gaze on you. “tell us what you want, pretty girl. you want us to help you finish?”

you nod, feeling geto spread your legs apart further.

nanami, with a gloved hand purses your lips together, forming them into a tight squeeze before humming. “words, princess. use them, okay?”

the more you feel geto’s breath fan against your clit, teasing you—you were about to go feral. you stare up at nanami before letting off a sweet whine. “i- i want you both to help me finish,” you stutter out, stumbling over your pathetic words like you’d stumble with an untied shoe. “make me cum, please kento.”

he leans in to kiss your forehead and you hear geto scoff underneath. “i’m the one between your legs but whatever,” and you feel his soft lips kiss against your pussy. “kento, keep her distracted for me, will ya?”

“you’re so pretty,” he mutters, lightly lifting up your chin. as he wore black gloves—the fabric gently brushes against your lip, popping a thumb into your mouth. he doesn’t expect for you to happily take it in his mouth, sucking on it. “oh,” he breathes, a bit speechless. you stare into nanami’s eyes, swirling your tongue around his thumb in such an erotic way. lowly hooded eyes stare at him the entire time, you moan once you feel the flatness of geto’s tongue run against your sweet clitoral hood. his tongue—the texture of it was so cold, the moment he digs in he makes you know the pure definition of sloppy. all with his tongue, he slowly flicks it against your nub before delving his tongue deeper between your soddened folds. nanami pulls your chin to face him again before softly purring, “don’t look at him, look at me pretty girl.”

as your eyes focus back towards nanami, you could already feel your legs quavering. you felt hot, the lewd way geto drags his tongue against your pussy makes you gasp out three strained second puffs of air.

“k-kento,” you moan, pawing your hands at the low part of his robe. he watches, lowering his head at you before you reach there. nanami’s bulge, he has an abashed expression as he realizes what you were fondling at. “take it off.”

“ah, ask nicely,” he coos. your lips were now glossed with your own spit he smears against you as he pulls his gloved thumb out of your mouth. even though nanami was more tame than geto, his voice had a bit more dominance in it. he grabs your chin gently, cocking his head toward the side. “tell me what you want ‘n i’ll give it to you.”

your legs felt like they were standing on its last few hinges—geto’s tongue runs down your slit, taking a moment to depart his lips and spit on it, only to then lap it up again. a few annoyed grunts escape out of him partially due to his long strands of hair getting in the way. “so sweet,” he mutters, you whimper once he prods two fingers against your outer entrance. every few seconds he’d kiss near your thighs, leaving a few bite bite marks before focusing back towards your folds. “mhm.”

barely even able to keep focus, you gaze back up at nanami who’s standing near the edge of the bed—you’re laid back against the pillows with geto between your thighs. finally, a sweet mewl of words leave your glazed lips. “i- i wanna taste, ‘ken. wanna suck you off,” and he gives you a playful eyebrow raise, prying his pink lips open a few inches apart before you correct yourself. “pretty please.”

“better,” he murmurs, a hand of his reaching towards your head to give it a good pat. “good girl. go ahead, lift it up ‘n enjoy the meal.”

with a soft slackened sigh, you lift up the obsidian black robe. you’re met with ripped jeans, for some reason you just figured he’d already be sprung out for you. as geto’s still lapping up every drop of your taste, you unzip his fly before yanking down his pants. you were so impatient— and with geto’s demented pace, you were getting close. he chuckles, watching you struggle with the zipper for a bit before finally reaching near his boxers. they were a cerulean blueish color, his bulge was just appetizing. the entire shape of it, you felt yourself starting to drool the longer your eyes made direct contact against it. so rounded and full. with clammy hands, you tug them down before his thick cock springs out.

“it’s okay,” he whispers with a nod, watching you glance up him—a silent gesture as a way of asking if you could go further. nanami brings a hand towards the crown of your head, gingerly massaging his fingers through the crevices of your scalp. “you can be a little messy for me.”

a wretched whine that was raw rips from your throat once you feel geto’s tongue latch against your cunt. by now, he was sucking against your folds. the squelches were so sloppy, a hand of yours grab onto his hair for leverage and he shoots you a sly smile.

“don’t be shy girl, yank on it.”

dark pooled irises linger into yours for a long time before you get a good grip of geto’s hair, dragging him closer towards your entrance. over and over and over.

he giggles, hot breath ghosting against your folds and you throb even more. with dilated irises staring back towards nanami, you wrap your free hand around his length—he was so thick, such full balls that you just wanted to run your tongue all across it. he had a few veins skim down his beige, weighty cock. you could make out a few drops of lustrous pre-cum that decorates near his very tip. “u-ugh,” he shakes, the warmth that your tongue provides has him smothering his lips together. nanami watches, you’re slow but deadly.

pursing your lips together, you gradually start to sink him into your mouth.

geto’s still between your thighs, shoving two fingers in and out of you now—he surrounds your clit with his mouth, the suction he creates with just his lips was brutal. you’re moaning, even whilst your noises were pretty much muffled due to nanami’s fat cock. “easy,” he whispers, tapping a thumb against your cheek. “no teeth, okay? you’re doing s-so good.”

nanami groans, goading the same thumb against your cheek before you inch yourself further and further down. he has a shy smile at the way your hair forms in musses due to his tight grip. within no time, your throat’s already stuffed and few droplets of your own saliva trickles down the sides of your mouth. geto’s still making sure to thrust his gloved digits in and out of your soaked cunt and you don’t know which roommate to focus on.

“m-mphm,” was all you could manage out, your legs in a swift spread-eagle position. as you’re outstretched, you feel yourself about to cum. you’d recognize that feeling anywhere—the feeling when a swelling pool of heat residing inside your stomach tickles throughout your entire abdomen. that same feeling of nirvana courses through your veins as you’re now leisurely bobbing your head. every time you pull on geto’s long hair, he grunts—spanking your clit in response and that only causes you to whine for more. nanami strokes your face as he starts to feel his dick prod against the roof of your mouth. for a split second as you’re breathing through each nostril—you gag, long lashes fluttering in sync together.

your legs couldn’t hold still, geto’s continuously pushing you towards your limit before you whimper out. your tongue lathers over the splotches of pre-cum that paints nanami’s tip a pretty shade of snowy white.

he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, especially not with a face like that.

low eyes, sheepish smile, furrowed eyebrows. you’re convulsing profusely all in geto’s mouth, the sides of your thighs occasionally hitting against his face and he titters. “such a sloppy m-mouth,” nanami inhales deeply, and he starts to gently drag your head against his cock. he’s got your mouth filled with so many inches—your cheeks were all puffed up from his immense length, sheeny slobber emanating all down the sides of your mouth before he pants. “gonna make such a mess ‘n your mouth, princess. ‘s that what you want?”

you nod, feeling the vein that runs down his girthy cock twitch in your mouth. you moan, he’s feeling weightless—you’ve got his knees trembling, a hand’s still attached to your head like velcro before gyrating your tongue all over the crownhead of his shaft. “such a pretty face,” he gruffs lowly, swiftly pulling your hair side to side to take every inch. “s-shame i gotta ruin it a little.”

even nanami’s dirty talk was tame— it was cute to witness, the way his blond brows would tug into a furrow. he’s so pent up, and out of nowhere—you feel a sudden rush erupt within your cunt. before you could even react, you end up cumming hard. it shoots out of you like a rough wave, it’s such pure bliss that it takes you a few seconds to realize. geto’s making out with your pussy, slowly sliding his two protected fingers in and out of your sopping wet entrance and you shudder. “what a fuckin’ mess,” he hums, taking sight at how saturated you were. as geto laps his tongue against your folds once more, he stares back up at you and nanami. “aw. look at you two,” and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “slobbin’ everywhere, messy girl you are.”

your eyes go back up towards nanami, he’s sweating.

he felt as if the fabric of his robe stuck against his skin. while he’s holding it up with one hand, you sneak a stare at his abs, perfect washboard abs that looked quintessentially sculpted against his body. “g-gonna cum,” and he stares at geto, growing a bit flustered once all attention’s on him. “suguru, don’t just stand there. p…praise her.”

geto scoffs, kneeling beside you on the bed before moving a few strands from your face. “so bossy,” he grits before giving you your second head pat. he leans up close to your ear, grabbing the voice changer again and brings it up to his lips. “c’mon, doll. make ‘ken cum, yeah. doin’ so good for us. you’re gonna make him whine for you, heh.”

nanami’s legs felt like mush, he throws his head back, his long black robe syncing with his movements before he’s gently pulling your head against his thick cock. he shudders, welts of twinges close in on the undersides of his thighs before he finally finishes. it builds up gradually before you find him pouring into your mouth with a nice amount of parching hot cum. it’s hot, a good mass of satiny ropes coat the flat middle part of your tongue and you moan. “f-fuuuck,” he heaves through heavy lungs, it’s still trickling, you savor the taste. it’s bitterly sweet. he pulls out of your mouth before letting off a tremulous sigh. “good girl, f-fuck.”

“aw. don’t hog her, give me attention too,” geto sneers, softly grabbing you by the neck, making you face him. with his right hand, he squeezes your lips together with a rigid grip. “ah, don’t swallow yet. c’mere.”

with half-lidded eyes, you do—leaning into his touch before geto plants his warm lips onto yours. you’re caught by surprise for the umpteenth time today, prying your mouth open for him and he lolls his tongue down your throat. you let off a whine, feeling his gloved hands rub against every inch of your body. immediately, he tastes the candied flavor of nanami’s cum and it makes him groan. he didn’t even bat an eye—you return the kiss, feeling geto’s hand slither further down towards your ass. he caresses it, giving it a mean spank to make you moan out in ecstasy.

after a while, he pulls away, humming at nanami. “ken ken, don’t be so shy. you want a taste too?”

“yeah,” he mutters, needy eyes staring at your lips that were lubricated with your own sheeny spit. “can i?”

you nod, and he’s so gentle with you. a hand nimbly wraps around your throat before he brings you into a deeper kiss. geto’s still for his hands on you, strumming his fingers near your pulled to the side panties. you let off a soft pant, feeling the spiral of nanami’s tongue go against yours. he tastes sweet — savory even, his flavor was purely mouthwatering. a thumb drags down the passageway of your throat before he pulls away. it’s slow, a polished concoction of saliva departs from each mouth and you whimper. you were throbbing, desperate for more and they both knew that. if this— whatever this was was some sort of movie, you never wanted it to end. you never wanted the credits to roll because you felt like you were floating on cloud nine.

with the two of them, you were stretched in every way possible. if you could compare who was bigger, actually you couldn’t. throughout multiple positions, you felt as if you were gonna snap in half. they had you so stupid. pink tongue rolled out, full lungs of oxygen departing out such hot breaths of air, you were the definition of stupid.

cockdrunk at its finest. each orgasm that got ruthlessly snatched out of you had your head spinning, heart racing entirely.

you felt like something was creeping up behind your shoulder, chills. whenever you’d coax out yet another teeth-shattering orgasm, all you felt was stone cold chills. time after time, it felt like pure bliss—you thought you were in a whole new world, barely even able to move your thighs an inch. being sandwiched between the two of them, perhaps you were a little greedy but you just couldn’t get enough. geto’s degrading you whilst nanami’s whispering sweet pleasures into your ear, you’ve never felt more soaked.

you didn’t wanna stop—

currently, you’re straddling nanami. he’s got two rough hands gripping your waist, intaking every inch of your pretty physique. his stare sends you butterflies, his shaft was underneath you and only then pulls out. with a cute, “phew,” he swipes a sheet of sweat that expands across his forehead. you rode him so good that he couldn’t even figure out what to say. he was so flustered, tips of his ears a reddish hot before he watches geto creep behind you. “think she wants more, suguru.”

“bet she does,” he whispers, bringing a few sweet kisses near the inner corners of your neck.

you’re promptly sat up straight. the brief sounds of booming speakers roar from downstairs as you wrap your arms around nanami. geto licks near your collarbone before purring seductively. “say, doll. how ‘bout you try to take us both? would ya like that?” and with a gloved hand he gives your ass a squeeze. “wanna be the final girl ‘n prove your worth? our final girl?”

without an inkling of hesitation—you nod, mewling out a sweet, “yes, yes jus’ hurry up, sugu. ‘m still c…close.”

“so wet, so impatient,” he whispers once more, and with two hands he makes you sit up from nanami. you gulp—swallowing whatever sanity you had left, preparing to be quite literally double stuffed with your roommates. you aren’t so sure why, but the fact that they both still had on their ghoulish costumes made you pulsate a bit more. geto’s helping you slide back down onto nanami’s length before slowly making his way into you also. “god, you’re so hot in here. gonna fuckin’ swallow me whole.”

you moan, everything goes so slow—your cunt was a ticking time bomb. you clamp down on each before slumping into nanami’s chest. you’re met with kind eyes, he strokes your forehead before kissing the bridge of your nose, panting in a hushed voice. “eyes on me, princess. just relax.”

you wriggle a bit at the positioning—being on nanami’s lap, geto directly behind you, you’re quite literally being filled in every orifice by thick inches of cock. nanami’s words were soothing, filling up your tummy with a pool of fluttering butterflies. you keep your eyes on him, clenching down on geto a bit before you hear him hiss in response. “ugh. doll open up for me a little m-more, yeah.”

his voice was deepened heavily—you let off a cute gasp once they’re both finally in and a few shaky breaths exit past your lips. “hold my hand, i got you,” nanami coos, and that’s when geto starts to rock. he had more control between the two of you, the grip on your hips was firm and you let off a sweet babble. each individual entrance was stuffed, you swallow the invisible lump in your throat as you start to feel the sweltering friction of your thighs slap against nanami. “you’re so pretty like this,” and he kisses the temple of your cheek.

every kiss presented from nanami makes your heart race—being sandwiched between nanami and geto, you really did feel like the main character.

your lip tremors, grinding back and forth between each of them, you feel geto wrap his thick fingers around your neck.

whilst you’re still straddling nanami—you moan again and again, feeling a free hand of geto’s spank your ass. the stretch that you continuously felt had your mouth watering. you heard the harmonic pap pap pap’s until it rang throughout your ears. “fuck, ya like being stuffed don’t you, pretty girl? feel full enough?” geto rasps, pressing his body right up against you. you felt his hot temperature go against your skin. making you feel every amount of his heat. your brain’s swelling up with fog. giving him an inert nod, you hear him click his tongue. “didn’t say to nod your head, doll. i wanna hear that sweet voice.”

whenever geto lowers his voice a bit, you feel the abrupt tension arise between your legs. leaning against nanami, you whine out a, “hngh y-yesss, ‘m so full, sugu. want more, stuff me more.”

“let me stuff your mouth too then.”

and before you could come up with a reply, geto removes his glove—shoving your mouth with two fat digits. he grunts, watching as you’re so compliant with your throat being filled with his fingers. nanami stares at the entire scene in front of him, his dick idly twitching inside of you. your tongue runs down his fingers before your own spit starts to seep down the corners of your lips. it was messy—you were messy. your hips jitter and judder and you knew with having both holes stuffed you weren’t gonna last that much longer. it was probably the dozenth orgasm your pussy’s been introduced with and you could feel the creeping pleasure brew up inside your abdomen.

“suguru, ‘m gonna cum.” nanami groans, bringing his own hands to wrap around your waist. you lessen your tense from his touch before gagging a bit from the prodding of geto’s fingers way back into your throat. “she’s s-squeezing me so good.”

geto snickers, making eye contact with nanami. “are you? ‘ken, you’re more whinier than usual today.”

“shut up.” he grumbles, slapping a hand over his face in embarrassment — nanami wasn’t so known to be all flustered and abashed, but whenever he was, it was so cute.

you’ve still got a mouthful of geto’s fingers before he pulls them out only to shove them into his own mouth. he hums, sharp hips snapping into you repeatedly as his other free hand tightens its secured grasp around your hip. “mhm,” he groans, feeling himself reaching his peak also. “you taste like a final girl. so sweet like candy.”

with the piston of geto’s vigorous hips, you’re so loose that you feel the fleeting sensation of your cunt gaping.

its cavernous, you jerk forward against nanami before seconds later — geto groans, abruptly finishing two seconds early. even his moans were pretty, he tugs his fingers out of your mouth to wrap them around your neck. strands of black hair glue to his forehead and he puffs out a single breath. licking a stripe near your neck, he feels thick volumes of his cum ooze into your hole. it’s so sticky, you bring your hips to a slowing halt before nanami shoots inside you too.

“f-fuck, sugu,” nanami grunts, feeling his thighs stick underneath you. he was panting heavily, each breath that ran from his lips sounding more and more wearied. “damn, so m-much.”

everything spurts into you at once. they mirror each other inside of you perfectly. callused stubby fingertips of geto’s squeeze your neck softly, watching as you’re just being filled with bulky strings of cum, it floods your cunt until it drizzles further into your womb. you’re drooling, it feels so hot, sweltering hot. it sticks against your entrance before your arms wrap around nanami. “so f-full,” you whimper, and he returns the gesture by brushing his thumb against your waist. droopy eyes hang low before nanami pulls you into another deep kiss. you decided—this was far better than some dumb party. the cottony fabric of the ghostface robe pricks against your skin as you lean into his heinous touch.

you shift your weight against nanami’s lap, feeling geto pull out before he leans down between your legs. “spread your legs,” he mutters, and in the midst of your tongue roaming down nanami’s throat, you part your thighs—gasping once you feel geto’s own tongue lap against the freshly created mess. he makes little tiny licks, tasting the ropes of crisp cum that’s sloppily easing out of every entrance—you pulsate before he chortles, warm breath ventilating against your sobbing pussy. “so messy. don’t want any spillin’ out. gotta push it back in.”

you’re moaning, after a while you break away from nanami’s lips before he strokes your cheek lovingly, a cute drowsy look before he huffs, “did you hear me, pretty?” and he gently pokes your cheek. “you always do this..”

confusion hits you before your eyes suddenly open—you jolt up, both of your roommates beside you, gawking at you with a look of deadpan. you’re leaning against geto, the third movie of scream playing in the background—it was near the ending where the killer was being revealed. you sit up, staring down at your legs and you were fully clothed—there was no geto eating between your legs, no being stuffed with nanami, nothing.

“hellooo, earth to roomie,” geto waves his hand in your face, you stare at him before furrowing your brows. “you okay? you fell asleep on me again. what’s got ya so spooked? looks like ya seen a ghost.”

so it was a dream?

a mere glimpse of your lewd imagination—?

you have a sudden sheepish look, running your fingers near the nape of your neck. “huh. oh, i’m fine. i thought the movie would be over by now.”

nanami rubs your back. “we still have like twenty minutes left,” and then he looks at you with a concerned look. so gentle—so tender. “are you sure you’re okay? we can watch a rom-com if you want.”

“i’m okay,” you insist, slumping your head back against geto.

that was weird, out of all the dreams you’ve had throughout your life—none of them ever felt as surreal as that one. for some reason, you were still aroused though. you were a bit out of breath and felt chills run all over your body.

abruptly, your phone rings,

“sugu, can you pass me my phone?” you sigh, trying to relax. you were pretty bummed you weren’t at that party getting stuffed with your two roommates but instead—in your generic dorm watching a scary movie.

he hands you the phone, grabbing the remote to turn it down a few notches.

once you take it, succinctly, your eyes scan across the screen—it reads that it’s from an unknown number. not really thinking much, you decide to answer, swiping the green button to answer. “um, hello?”

“hello.”

“hi,” you rub your eyes. “can i help y-”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

rolling your eyes, you peer at your two roommates beside you, nudging them and peeling the phone away from your ear for a moment. “very funny, suguru.”

geto gives you a look of confusion and nanami mimics the same. he shrugs, averting his eyes back toward the movie. “very funny what.”

and suddenly you’re laid back, an unbelieving expression was expressed on your face as you were left with a weird feeling. if it wasn’t them then who—

that same chill eerily creeps up your spine before you put the phone back near your ear. it’s that same low voice you heard from before, each word it speaks pitches deeper before you grow quiet at its final haunting response,

“oh baby, i’m not suguru or nanami..”

[ovaryacted]

PAIRING: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x f! reader || WC: 900 CW: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Missionary Position/Mating Press. Overstimulation. Mentions of sub-space. Logan is an endearing tease.

Alright...Y'all know I just had to. If it wasn't already evident based on my previous posts, Wolverine is rotting my brain and Hugh Jackman snuck up on me in my sleep and slipped into my head again. I had to get this out of my system before I went insane lmao, and don't worry, I have longer pieces in mind for claw daddy. When writing this, I also imagined the X-Men version of Logan cause I loved the og movies, so this isn't the variant Logan from the Deadpool movie but imagine whichever version tickles your fancy! Thanks to @ozarkthedog for helping me pinpoint his characterization btw. <3

At times, Logan knew he could be a lot to handle. Not that he would really give a fuck most days, but he became more conscious of his presence when he met you. Softer, much more pliant in comparison to him, covered in hard muscle and rugged tendons. You didn’t mind his intensity, much less his overbearing weight and heavy hand. In fact, you welcomed all of him and encouraged him to let loose and forget about his fears regarding how he handled you.

“I’m not made of glass, Logan. I can take it, trust me.”

You told him once, his eyes silently apprehensive as he glanced at you. He was always careful, always self-aware, and treated you with respect. You knew it would take much more convincing to get exactly what you wanted with your lover, who was too adamant about keeping Logan and Wolverine separated in your relationship. But just this once, you asked for his trust to try something else, something a little different.

Ultimately, you got what you wanted, but your curious ambition may have underestimated the situation.

Legs pinned above his broad shoulders, Logan’s hips hammered into you as he fucked you into the mattress. You’ve lost track of time since he pulled the first orgasm between your legs, the tip of his nose and upper lip covered in your slick, glistening under the dim lighting of your bedroom. He surprised you as he kept going, pulling another release out of you with the use of his thick fingers, and a third the moment he slipped his body into yours over and over again.

The back of your head lay limp against the crumbled pillow underneath, thighs shaking on impact and your body jolting upwards with every thrust Logan gave you. You didn’t have the energy to moan or cry out for him anymore, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, and your hands loosely held his flexing biceps.

You were lost, so far gone into pleasure, your brain wasn’t working anymore. The only thing on your mind was how the tip of Logan’s cock continued to hit that spot inside you with rehearsed precision, sending you further into that fuzzy headspace you seemed to enjoy. Your eyesight grew hazy, glossed over with tears on your lashline that began to fall down your warm cheeks. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt a comforting palm on your face, fingertips tapping along your cheekbone in an attempt to ground you back to reality.

“You still with me, sugar?” He asked, gravelly voice filtering through your ears. You whined in response, pupils losing focus as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Not a single thought in your head now, huh?” The creases on Logan’s temple became more prominent as he smirked, deep strokes intensifying the heat you felt deep in your gut.

“C’mon sweetheart, need to hear you say something. Talk to me.” His nose bumped into yours, huffs evident on your bottom lip as you struggled to find your voice.

“Logan...” Your voice was breathless and raw, trailing off into a meek whimper at the feel of his other hand squeezing your waist. Your eyes trailed up to his own, hazel irises and a toothy smile came into view, causing you to clench around him. 

“There she is. This too much for you?” He knew it was, knew that this was what you asked of him, to push your limits and bring you to the point of no return.

Your mind fizzled out, the grip on his arm waning as he continued to thrust hard into you. You gave him a feeble nod, finding enough stamina to provide an answer. It was too much; three orgasms in, and your entire body felt on edge and overstimulated, sensitive to anything that was done or said within the confines of your bedroom. And yet, you didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to eat your own words and make him proud.

“I know, honey, I know. Just giving you what you wanted.” Logan teased, his tone dripping with sarcasm that matched his cocky expression.

You could feel yourself getting closer, your thighs and knees shaking on either side of his head. He continued to move against you, the hand that was on your waist drifted between your legs, seeking out your throbbing clit. His thumb pressed into the engorged nub, rubbing it in diligent circles that sent your hips jolting away from him. Logan held on to one of your thighs, pressing it towards the mattress and bending forward to pin you in place. Your heart raced, your chest ached, and you tightened at the violent wave of your next climax threatening to wash over you. 

“Keep your eyes on me, right up here. I gotcha.” Logan said, maintaining the powerful drives of his hips until you came around him with a scream of his name, doing your best to hold his gaze. You sobbed at the feeling, a neverending spiral of bliss filling your body and making your head go blank.

“That’s right, atta girl. Keep looking at me.” He rasped, groaning loudly under his breath and leaning down to give you a bruising kiss, spilling into you and filling you to the brim not that long afterwards.

Sure, Logan can be a lot to tolerate sometimes, but you didn’t mind being the one to handle him.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine logan seeing you again

logan x reader

warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The apartment was packed jammed with friends and some foes of Wade Wilson. There might have been music playing in the background, but Logan couldn’t tell when his eyes locked with the figure walking through the front door. His heart dropped, he felt sick to his stomach as his eyes fluttered. It had to be a dream but then he quickly came to his senses.

This wasn’t his universe, his world. He was somewhere entirely new. He caught his breath as Wade shouted out an exclamation of joy. Logan watched as he drew up from his seat to greet you with an overzealous hug, pulling you toward the group at the table.  Wade held you rough by the shoulders and grinned. “Look who decided to come out of retirement, conveniently after we,” he pointed to Logan then himself. “Saved the fucking world. Avengers, who? Bunch of assholes, if you ask me.”

“You sound like a man scorn, Wade,” you teased, offering a wave of a hand to your friends. The idiot next to you was right, the whole superhero thing had been a thing of the past. You have been a regular civilian for a few years now and have been loving a more relaxed existence – not being threatened daily was like, nice. “Don’t worry, you’ll see all the details in the movie. Have you meant my little angry beaver, the Wolverine?”

Your head jerked to where the older gentlemen was sitting, and you grinned. “I haven’t had the pleasure. I never met this world’s Logan – we ran in different circles. It’s nice to meet you.”

His heart relaxed and he confidently held out a hand, ignoring the interested glance from Laura. “Nice to meet you.”

“Take a seat next to Logan,” Wade urged, winking over to his new hesitant partner. “I’m sure he can fill you in on all the fun we’ve had together. Tell her about the sex ramp we had in the car that one time.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Logan cursed, telling you to ignore him.

“I usually do,” you laughed, thanking Vanessa for the beer she slid over from her side of the table. Popping it open, you relaxed and asked Logan how this place was treating him. “Must be weird, coming here. It’s like your world, right? Just slightly different?”

“Something like that.”

“Did we know each other back there?”

Your question seemed so invasive and frank – it almost made Logan smile because some people never changed, no matter what universe. Back where he came from, you were such a firecracker little shit. He had his hands full dealing with your bullshit. You were always running towards danger with little regard for your own safety because you had him. He had always been at your side, or at least, trying to catch up but he had always been there for you.

Logan had loved you and you had loved him.

Two reckless mutants.

Then you died and that sent him straight down a barrel of alcohol and indifference, to everyone and everything in his world. Which led to his greatest shame of all, allowing his family to be murdered because he was too busy drinking his sorrows away. He had long forgotten what it felt like to see you smile or hear you laugh, to feel your fingertips on his skin. The weight of your head on his chest as you slept, he never could replicate that feeling and yet, here you were.

A different version of you but God, the same.

“We were friends, really good friends.”

The hint of sadness in his voice was enough for you to understand and maybe not truly, but something had happened. That much was evident and while it might have been silly, you wanted nothing more than to comfort this man next to you. The room seemed to fall quiet, but no one was paying attention, except the girl next to Logan. Your eyes met hers, but she just smiled and looked away. Logan’s eyes were focused on the beer in his hands, but his eyes jerked up when a gentle hand touched the top of his. Your skin ablaze his and it felt wrong to feel like he had once when he didn’t even know you. Not this version of you, a woman he knew nothing about. It didn’t feel right but he wanted nothing more to allow this to go on. To see who you were in this world.

Did he deserve that? After everything that happened.

“Were? I won’t pry but it seems like life has given you a second chance, Logan.” You smiled softly and removed your hand from his, lifting your beer can to him. “You guys saved this world; a second chance is the least the universe can give you. Why not take it?”

Logan chuckled lowly. “The version of you I knew also had a deficiency in reasoning.”

A hard smack landed on his chest, and he laughed, which made you laugh. “Yeah, well, at least I don’t look like that idiot.”

Looking over to where you pointed to Wade, who had decided to show off his hair piece, Logan smirked. “Yeah, that’s fucking terrible.”

The two of you smiled at each other and something clicked in that moment, leaving the both of you quiet until you broke the tension. “To not looking like Wade Wilson.”

Logan clicked his beer against yours and felt a settling in his heart. Maybe he did deserve a second chance, at least, he could start toward earning that second chance. “Amen to that.”