#the moment I busted in the theater

[glitchedcosmos]

LIVE AND LEARN !!

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Rated R Video

Summary: You and Matt are dating and was invited to do the newest Rated R car video where Nick, Matt, Chris, and Yourself talk about the things you all have been avoiding being in the public eyes..

Warnings: Cursing, use of Y/N, suggestive (i think)? talking ab sexual topics! (lmk if i missed anything)

A/N: the first part of this story will be fluff/suggestive? also this is my first attempt at writing anything so be kind pls :)

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Me and matt have been dating for about 2 years as of last month, so within those two years of dating we’ve had sex.. a LOT… in the van, the house, the shower.. you get the idea.. but when matt asked me to join the new ‘Sturniolos @ Nite” video where they explored sexual topics they have been avoiding since being in the public eyes of COURSE i indeed had to say yes.

the boys and i were setting up for the video, matt in the driver seat, nick in his assigned seat behind matt chris wanted my seat in the car (the passenger seat) i objected HIGHLY “Christopher do you really wanna sit next to matt while he’s talking about OUR sex life?” i snapped at chris “Well Y/N this” he said while pointing at the passenger side “happens to be the seat i sit in while we film EVERY car video so” chris stood outside the car door standing while pointing at the leather seat we’re arguing over. while our bickering continues matt rolls his eyes and before he has a moment to speak nick yells across the car “Chris sit your ass down and pipe down, you’ll be fine for one video specially when the topic is sex so let’s just sit down and shut up” chris looks at me with an annoyed expression on his face and i look at him and jus smile as i sit next to my boyfriend matt and smile matt returns the smile before clicking the red button on the camera and adjusts the camera so we’re all in it.

nick immediately, getting too excited to sit still starts the intro of the video.

“AS you can see, we have a VERY special guest today for the first time in years-“ i stop him “Nick it’s been a month since i was in a video” i chuckle. nick smiles “ANYWAYS before i was rudely interrupted.. we have matt’s future wife, the mother of my future niece’s or nephews.. Y/N!!” i smile awkwardly at the camera and sent a slight wave. “NOW LETS GET HORNY” nick says just a little too excited to explore a new side of the triplets no one has seen before. matt chuckles softly as he speak with a little giggle in his voice “im not sure if thats how we should start this whole video” i smile at his words awkwardly as if im not about to expose to 6 million people what me and matt do behind every closed door, nick and chris have gotten used to hearing me and matt because of the amount of times we’ve tried doing anything remotely sexual at the house.

“so for the first question,” nick starts “what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever had sex at” chris chimes in “bathroom of Target” mine and nicks eyes widen and look at each other, i slowly turn my head back to face chris “t-target?” i stutter in disbelief. he smiles and nods, i press my lips together and look at matt waiting for him to answer.. the silence fills up the car before i get bold “I have to say in the back of the movie theater” matt’s face turns red and he looks down smiling before nick yells “UMMM Y/N?! MATTHEW??” i smile and turn my face to nick “you told us honesty for this video so im being honest nicolas” we all bust into laughter before matt speaks up and says “my answer to the question is the same as uh Y/N” nick scoffs playfully before asking the next one “this one is a bit more Juicy” as he shimmy’s his shoulders “what’s your deepest darkest sexual fantasy” he continues. my eyes immediately widen, in the bunch of times matt and i have had sex it’s not bad but sometimes i want him to absolutely destroy me, like multiple orgasms at a time, make me cry, degrade me, you know all that pizazz, he’s scared of hurting me or my feelings which makes sense but i wanted more i just didn’t know how to come out and ask for stuff like this but i don’t want 6 MILLION people to- i was cut off by nick who’s screaming my name to get me to pay attention “Y/N” nick screams “Are you listening??” i stutter before answering “y-yes i was just trying to think of a good answer” i look over at matt who’s also caught up in thought “but i think chris should answer first” matt breaks the awkward tension by looking at chris as chris shrugs his shoulders and nods in agreement “hmmm,” he starts “id have to say i’d love to eat a girl out for HOURS” he smirks “not saying i’ve never done that but like most can’t handle much after one” he smiles devilishly and nick matt and i all look at eachother and snicker as chris still began going into detail about eating a girl out before matt cuffs him off “OKAY CHRIS, i will go next just to save everyone else” matt laughs before continuing “umm id have to say my deepest darkest sexual fantasy is uh prolly uhm” he stops nervously so i chime in “matt it’s okay come on you got this” he looks at me and smiles before finishing his sentence “tying someone up and like uh eating em out till they can’t move anymore” he places his hand behind his head and rubs the back of his neck but subconsciously my thighs squeeze together at the thought of it before i quickly snap out of it “well since it’s my turn my fantasy is just really rough sex.. yk like.. yeah i ain’t even gonna go into detail about that you can use ur imagination” i look at the camera and wink when i say the last part of my sentence before nick chimes in “well from the constant banging of the fucking wall from the headboard every night you’d think she be getting that gypsy rose ‘that d is fire’ every fucking night” the entire car busts out into laughter from nicks commentary on mine and matt’s sex life. “okay nick next question” chris states “uhm most of the rest of the questions are weird” nick says while trying not to gag from the question, but i can’t help but look at matt looking deep in thought but i can’t stop wondering if maybe i said something wrong.. was it my tone? i quickly snap out of it when nick starts talking to chris about the nights of restless nights of the consistent banging and moaning coming through the walls from matt absolutely blowing my back out, now matt was sweet and gentle and we had multiple talks about what we were into, what we liked, what we didn’t but i wanted MORE… i needed MORE… i bit my lip subconsciously at the nasty things matt and i could be doing in my head.

“OOO A GOOD QUESTION..” nick starts “something that gets you horny INSTANTLY” i smile and giggle before chris interrupts me and says “ASS AND THE THOUGHT OF SMACKING A NICE FAT ASS” i slap my hand on my face over my mouth over his comment, nick beat me to the thought of slapping Chris’s arm before it got any worse. “christopher sturniolo lets stop talking before your mouth gets worse and u expose yourself more then you have target boy” nick spits out “okay anyways, neck kisses are a biggie for me” i say turning the attention towards me instead of chris’s foul mouth. “AH FINALLY ONE I CAN AGREE WITH Y/N” nick cheers “okay okay, sometimes when Y/N walks around in plaid shorts and a tank top no bra.. idk that’s just me personally” matt says nervously but i can’t help but smile at his answer

“well thank you guys so much for watching this uncomfortable Rated R video.. we probably will not be doing this again because i cannot sit though listening through this again..” nick says with giggles in between sentences. matt grabs the camera and points it in my direction closely and i giggle and smile in the camera before he points it closer in his brothers direction and nick says once more “i will never be doing this again” as chris laughs loudly, matt does his little gremlin voice as i call it and clicks the red button to stop recording.

“well that was interesting” i laughed while stepping out the car to get back inside

“interesting isn’t what i would call it” nick giggles out

matt and i make our way to our shared bedroom but he closes the door suddenly and locks it which makes me jump and turn around

“strip” matt says sternly

“w-what” i stutter but clench my thighs together at his stern tone

“don’t make me say it again Y/N strip”

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A/N: AHH PLS LEMME KNOW HOW THIS IS?!?! also pls tell me how to make a masterslist.. cause idk how do that!!

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl (Chapter Two)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): discussion of disability

Word Count: 2200, Part 2/?

Author's Note: I was able to finish chapter 2! I'm sorry for the massive delay since positing any writing, it's been a time recently. I'll keep doing my best but pls don't hold it against me if I don't post for a while again. I still care about Regina so so much. Thank you to bestie @sapphicantics for helping me go back to this and reading it first :P

Summary: Reader goes over to Regina's house to work on some more chemistry lessons.

Part 1

Friday’s chemistry lecture was cut off by the dismissal bell and the teacher frustratingly called out as students were already busting through the door, “quiz on Monday! Don’t forget and study hard this weekend!” 

You were packing up your notes when five perfectly manicured fingernails rapped on the corner of your desk. 

You looked up and met the blonde's eyes. 

“So quiz on Monday, can I get some extra tutoring this weekend?” 

You nodded slowly, “do you want me to come to your place?” 

“I do.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want -“ 

“I already told you, yes. Stop being so weird about it. Tomorrow. Come over around lunchtime. My mom will feed us then we can work.” 

You bit your lip and then nodded again, “okay.” 

Regina gave you her version of a smile and then flicked her hair behind her shoulder as she left the classroom. 

You saw that the teacher had been watching your exchange.

“It’s working,” they said, “whatever you’re doing. Her homework was better.” 

“You definitely can’t tell me that.” 

“Just keep it up. She’ll be okay.” 

You smiled and nodded, hugging your books to your chest and leaving the classroom. 

After a twenty-five minute walk, you were standing at the end of the driveway to the George residence. 

You looked up at the massive house in awe. It was clearly a new build. Likely custom-designed by the Georges. Two stories. Huge yard. You imagined an underground pool and a deck with a built-in, year round jacuzzi in the back. A movie theater and second kitchen in the basement. A yoga room with a Peleton for Ms. George. Master bath with a soaking tub. 

You were afraid to go in. 

You stood outside and stared for a minute longer before finally walking up the driveway (not made of asphalt or cement, but pristine white rocks). You walked past Regina’s Jeep, a Mercedes, and an Audi all parked (as well as a children’s Barbie Jeep abandoned in the lawn, belonging to Regina’s younger sister you assumed). 

You giggled at that. You imagined Regina either beaming with pride or fuming with rage at the idea of her little sister wanting a matching car to Regina. 

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the front door and waited for a moment, hearing a faint “get the door!” from inside.

Regina opened the door, “hey, did you find parking on the street?” 

“Oh, I didn’t drive.”

“Someone dropped you off then? Do you have a ride home after?” 

You shook your head, “I walked.” 

“What the fuck?” 

A woman called out from inside the house, “Regina! Language!” 

Regina clenched her jaw and inhaled slowly through her nose, flaring her nostrils. 

“It’s not a big deal,” you responded quietly. 

Regina rolled her eyes, “I’ll drive you home when we’re done, Jesus Christ.” 

“You really don’t have to drive me home, it’s okay.” 

“Shut up, it’s literally nothing. Now come inside you weirdo.” 

You followed Regina in, and the interior of the house was even more grand than the exterior. 

You didn’t have much time to take it all in before Regina’s mom was pouncing on you and pulling you into a hug then holding your shoulders and examining you head to toe, “well aren’t you a cute little thing!? I love meeting Regina’s new friends.” 

“She’s my tutor mom.” 

“Cute and smart, then! Well I hope the two of you become friends, Regina needs good influences in her life.” 

“Mom.” 

Ms. George raised her hands in mock-surrender, “Sorry! I’m just trying to be helpful, my goodness.” 

You tried to force a smile and fidgeted with the zipper of your jacket awkwardly. 

“Did you make us snacks?” 

“Oh yes!” Ms. George trotted back into the kitchen and came back with a tray stacked with a variety of finger foods and fruity little drinks complete with excessive garnishes. She passed the tray to you, “here you ladies go. Study hard!” 

“Thanks,” Regina didn’t wait around any longer before starting up the staircase to the second floor and expecting you to follow behind.

“Um, it was nice meeting you!” You directed to Ms. George, “you have a beautiful home.” 

“Thank you sweetie-“ 

“Hurry up.” Regina cut her mom off while standing at the top of the steps with a hand on her hip.

You rushed up the rest of the steps and followed Regina into her room. She immediately went to her floor-length mirror and adjusted her hair while you set the tray of snacks down on her vanity. 

“Not there,” Regina snapped, as if it was obvious.

“Where then?” 

Regina pointed lazily toward the ottoman at the foot of her bed and you obeyed, setting the tray down and then helping yourself to a handful of homemade trail mix. 

Regina came over and sat down on her bed and grabbed a single celery stick to eat. 

You must have made a face that Regina noticed because she raised an eyebrow at you, “what?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why are you making that face?” 

“Oh, nothing, I just don’t like celery.” 

“You don’t have to eat it.” 

“I know, Regina.” You could feel yourself shrinking as your shoulders slumped. 

“It’s like negative calories so.”

“Well, actually…” 

Regina narrowed her eyes at you.

“Nevermind. So, do you want to work on material for the quiz?” 

Regina threw herself backwards and collapsed into her duvet in exasperation, “ugggghhhh!” 

“That’s why you wanted me to come over, right?” 

“Well duh… I’m just tired.” 

“I’m sorry.”

Regina propped herself up on her elbows and looked at you, “for what?” 

“That you’re tired?” 

She scoffed, “you don’t need to be sorry about that. See? You’re too nice.” 

You shrugged, “I guess it’s just something people say.” 

“Oh? So you agree, then? That niceness is a facade that people use to disguise their true feelings?” 

You shook your head, incredulous, “I didn’t say that.”

“Are you really, actually sorry that I’m tired or are you just saying it, then?“ 

You took a beat to think and then answered emphatically, “I am actually sorry. It’s called empathy. I feel bad that you feel rundown, and if you aren’t up for studying today, I would understand.” 

She raised an eyebrow again in her classic fashion, “I guess I just really don’t understand that. Why would you feel bad that I’m tired? And why wouldn’t you be upset if I wasn’t in the mood to study after you put in the effort to walk all the way here?” 

“I don’t know why, that’s just how I feel. What should I say instead? I don’t care that you’re tired, suck it up I’m here to make you better at chemistry?” 

“Maybe you should,” Regina shrugged. 

You shook your head, “I don’t want to say that. That’s not helpful to anyone. Are you going to retain any of the content we go over if I push you to do it when you don’t feel good?” 

“How do you know I’m not lying or just complaining for the sake of it? Maybe I need to be pushed.”

“Fine, give me a reason then. Why are you tired?” 

Regina thought about it for a minute, then her voice came out surprisingly quiet, “you know the accident from last year? The bus thing?” 

You nodded. 

She sighed, “It’s been a long recovery. I don’t usually talk about it with anyone.” 

“You don’t have to talk about it with me if you don’t feel comfortable, but… I am here if you did want to. Talk about it, I mean.” 

Regina didn’t say anything. She started to pick at the skin around her fingernails. 

You recognized the behavior right away because you do it too. Without thinking, you moved to sit across from her on the bed and reached out, clasping your hand around hers. 

The blonde stared at you shocked. 

“Shit, I… I’m sor-“ you began, starting to pull away. 

She didn’t let you go, “It’s okay. Don’t apologize.” 

The gesture must have cracked her armor, if only a little. She shrugged her shoulders and explained, “the accident injured my neck and back so I’m doing physical therapy twice a week for that and I’ve been diagnosed with something called POTS. So my heart is all fucked up or something. I'm exhausted and in pain most of the time even though I'm taking like six different meds every day.” 

“That sounds really hard.”

“But I feel like…” her voice failed her. She frowned, cleared her throat, and started again, “I feel like I shouldn’t complain about it… wouldn’t be cute to bitch about it when everyone…” she lowered her head and stared at her comforter, “when everyone thinks I probably deserved it.” 

You frowned and squeezed her hand, “do you think you deserved to get hit by a bus?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe. It feels that way sometimes. Like I was supposed to learn some kind of lesson from it. Like I was supposed to suddenly be a better person and be grateful and be an inspiration or whatever. But that’s like some biblical bullshit. And I’m not a better person. I'm still just me but now my body doesn’t work and people don’t even bother pretending to like me anymore.” The dam had burst. The corners of her eyes started to sting with painful tears. “I’m not grateful. I don’t think what happened to me was an inspiration or whatever. I just wish I wasn’t sick and I wish that people didn’t expect anything from me.” With that, she retracted her hands from you, quickly wiped her face with her sleeves and she continued to look anywhere but right at you.

“Regina, thank you for sharing that with me. I want to help you as much as I can.”

“Why, though?”

“Because I want to.”

Regina met your eyes again, scrutinizing you. Trying to find deception that wasn’t there. 

When she finally gave up she just said, “I don’t understand you.”

You laughed, “I’ve gathered that.”

She smiled and then rolled her eyes.

“Hey, do me a favor, okay? Go change into something comfy and then lets just watch something for a bit. Whatever you want. We can recharge a little and then see about studying, and if it doesn’t happen, it’s okay.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Yes.”

Regina breathed a sigh of relief and then visibly relaxed before getting up and walking to her large closet. She came back out a few minutes later, having changed into baggy sweats. She wordlessly sat down at her vanity, tied her hair up in a loose bun, cleaned her makeup off and then replaced her contact lenses with glasses. 

You smiled to yourself while watching her. She caught you looking over in the mirror and you quickly looked away before seeing her reaction if any. 

When she came back to the bed, laptop in hand, she said, “I’d usually never let anyone see me like this.”

“Well, then I consider myself lucky. Unless you don’t plan on letting me leave here alive now that I’ve seen you ‘like this,’” putting air quotes around your words.

“Cheeky…” Regina smirked and sat back down on the bed next to you, constructing a pile of pillows against the headboard to lean on, “you wouldn’t know until it was too late, though.”

You smiled as she continued.

“I guess I just don’t really care right now.”

“Well, I’m glad that you feel at ease with me. Not that you’re any less pretty than before.”

“You liar!”

“What? I’m not lying!”

“I’m not pretty right now. I’m all puffy and my hair is gross and I have my stupid glasses on and I’m wearing my mom’s old college sweatshirt.”

You shrugged, “you are pretty, Regina. You have freckles, I didn’t know that. And your hair looks cute like this, the little strands framing your face… I don’t know, you look pretty to me.”

Regina narrowed her eyes at you and then shook her head, “okay, whatever. Let’s just… watch something now.” She redirected her attention to opening up streaming on her laptop, “have you ever seen Real Housewives?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Oh my god. Okay I’m catching up on New Jersey right now, I’ll try to fill you in.”

You smiled and nodded. 

She started the show and slid a little closer to you so that she could rest the laptop on both of your laps. 

You ended up watching the show all evening, only interrupted by Ms. George bringing some dinner upstairs for you both along with Regina’s meds.

“Sweetheart, you look… comfortable.” Ms. George remarked, her tone unmistakably judgemental. 

The corners of Regina’s mouth downturned just slightly.

“Yeah you know we just decided to have a relaxing night. No need to be all done up.” You smiled, “thank you so much for bringing us food, Ms. George.” 

The woman was thrown off and you felt victorious.

“Oh, of course. I’ll… go get you girls some popcorn.” Ms. Geroge left and shut the door behind her. 

Regina released a breath she was holding and whispered, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For… for what you just did.”

You shrugged and took a bite of food, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Regina’s eyebrows raised and then she just laughed in disbelief before turning the show back on and saying, “you continue to surprise me…”

Next Chapter

[fkinkindagauche]

How You Turn My World, You Precious Thing

Written for @steddie-spooktober day 30 prompt - "Where in the hell did you find that costume??"

Rating: Explicit | WC: 2,271 | CW: None | Tags: Getting Together, Blow Jobs, Coming in Pants, Steve Harrington's Bisexual Crisis (brought to you by David Bowie)

Title is of course from "Within You" by David Bowie from the Labyrinth soundtrack.

"I don't understand why you're doing a couples costume with Eddie," Steve said, a look of disgust on his face. "Am I not your platonic soulmate? Have I been replaced?"

Robin sighed and scrubbed a hand over her face. "For the last time, Steve, I just wasn't interested in any of your costume ideas, and I was interested in Eddie's."

"So, to be clear, you discarded the idea of going as Goose to my Maverick to go as the moody teen to Eddie's David Bowie from a children's movie?" Steve asked, hands on his hips.

"You haven't even seen Labyrinth, dingus, don't sound so unimpressed," Robin replied. "Eddie put together a pretty great costume. And my costume was a lot cheaper to put together than a believable Goose costume would be."

"Yeah, because it just looks like something you would wear, only you have a hideous black wig on," Steve said, giving her a once-over. "Sometimes I doubt your commitment to our soulmateship."

He wasn't going to let this go. They'd all gotten close in the months since the worst spring break on record. He even hung out with Eddie on his own sometimes. But that didn't make the knee-jerk friendvy reaction any less jarring. (Robin had told him "friendvy" just sounded stupid, but he preferred to consider it an adorable and genius portmanteau of "friend" and "envy").

Robin sighed as they pulled up to Vickie's house. She was hosting a Halloween party, mostly for theater and band geeks, but Steve hadn't exactly gotten any other invites so he agreed to come. Any chance he could take to bust out his highly flattering Maverick costume in an attempt to get laid.

"I think you're actually really gonna like Eddie's costume," Robin said, giving Steve a significant look as they walked toward the house.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked sharply.

She shrugged. "I saw the looks you were giving him when we went to the Hideout last weekend."

Steve spluttered, blushing. He'd been avidly avoiding acknowledging his nascent attraction to Eddie to himself in his own mind, and he certainly wasn't ready to talk about it with Robin. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm here for one purpose only - boobies."

Robin groaned and smacked him on the arm. "You're disgusting," she said.

"Would you prefer breasts? Knockers? Bosoms? Jugs? Tits?" He rattled them off so quickly she couldn't get a word in between them.

"Jesus, Steven, stop it," she said, shoving him harder. "I can't take you anywhere."

Steve graciously left off his litany of boob euphemisms once they got inside, Robin scanning the crowd.

"Eddie!" she yelled, walking over to a corner where a man with long, spiky blonde hair was standing, wearing incredibly tight pants with knee-high boots, and a ruffled shirt under a black vest.

Steve looked around for a few moments, searching for Eddie, until Robin approached the corner and pulled the blonde man into a side hug. He turned, and Steve let out a shocked gasp, realizing it was Eddie.

"Where in the hell did you find that costume?" Steve asked, mouth hanging open as he took in Eddie's elaborate make-up to go along with the clothes. "And where's your real hair?"

Eddie threw back his head and laughed, baring the long line of his neck, now draped with multiple necklaces. Steve swallowed hard, eyes drawn to the light dusting of chest hair he could see in the ample amount of chest exposed by the open neck of the shirt.

"Is that vest supposed to look like a corset?" Steve asked, enthralled as he reached out a hand to touch it, feeling the warmth of Eddie's skin through the fabric. His eyes tracked further down, to the obvious bulge he could see in Eddie's tight pants. "I thought this was a children's movie!" He knew he was blushing, could feel the heat in his face.

Eddie locked eyes with him when he finally looked back up, smirking. "Eyes up here, big boy," Eddie said. Steve's face grew even redder, and he wanted to melt into a puddle of goo on the floor and never look at Eddie again.

Steve felt his dick stir in his pants at the thought of Eddie's cock, right there in front of him, practically on display. He couldn't manage to get any words out, just kept staring at Eddie with his mouth open.

"Everything okay there, Harrington?" Eddie asked, smirk changing to a look of confusion. Robin was looking at Steve with something like glee on her face.

"I need to… use the bathroom," Steve managed to get out, turning away from them and pushing through the crush of people to a hallway. He managed to find an open bathroom and slipped inside, shutting and locking the door behind him as he slid to the floor against it.

He put his head in his shaking hands, trying to slow his racing heart. He couldn't really deny it anymore. He was attracted to Eddie. He'd never been attracted to a man before, bar that one fleeting moment in the shower with Billy Hargrove, when he'd been simultaneously aroused and infuriated.

But Eddie - he was something else entirely. Steve was finally admitting to himself , here on this bathroom floor, that he was physically attracted to Eddie. He'd known for a long time that he loved his smile, and his laugh, and his self-deprecating humor, and his willingness to help any of his friends, whatever they needed. Now he was finally acknowledging a physical attraction, and he was fucking terrified.

A knock on the door interrupted his spiral.

"Steve? You in there?" Eddie's voice asked.

"Can you send Robin in?" Steve asked pathetically.

There was an awkward pause. "Um. She said she had something she needed to do and that I should go check on you. I don't know where she is."

Fucking typical. Robin was trying to play cupid in the midst of his bisexual crisis.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asked when he got no response from Steve. "You sick or something? Can I come in and help?"

Of course he wanted to help. Saint fucking Eddie.

"I'm fine," Steve said, sighing. "Go away."

"You don't sound fine, man," Eddie replied. "Fucking wait a minute okay?" Eddie yelled, probably to someone in the hall. "Steve, let me in," Eddie said in a lower voice.

Steve stood and opened the door. Eddie came in and shut the door behind him, locking it again.

"You gonna puke?" Eddie asked. "You and Robin must've been going hard before you got here."

Steve looked at Eddie again, with his delectable wispy chest hair and his stupidly beautiful smile and the sizable bulge in his pants. Steve made an impulsive decision, the only kind he seemed capable of making these days. He put both hands on Eddie's chest and pushed him so his back was against the door, then leaned in and kissed him.

It wasn't that different from kissing a girl. He could feel the beginning of Eddie's stubble coming in, scratching lightly against his chin, but his lips were just as soft and warm as a girl's. Eddie gasped into his mouth, tensing up for a moment before relaxing against Steve, kissing him back.

Steve tentatively licked over Eddie's lower lip, and Eddie opened his mouth, allowing Steve's tongue inside. Steve slowly licked into his mouth, tangling his own tongue with Eddie's, moving to explore the roof of his mouth, the sides of his teeth. He pushed a hand into Eddie's ridiculous wig, pulling it askew, as Eddie wrapped his hands around Steve's hips and pulled him more firmly against himself.

Steve could feel Eddie's cock now, hard against his thigh. He slotted a leg between Eddie's thighs and pushed up. Eddie groaned into his mouth and pressed down onto Steve's leg as Steve moved his thigh back and forth, rubbing. Steve was sure Eddie could feel his own cock now, straining against the confines of his jumpsuit.

Steve's hips involuntarily bucked up into Eddie's hip, seeking friction. Eddie's tongue was meeting his in a ferocious clash, both of them vying for control of the kiss. Steve broke off first, trailing his lips down Eddie's neck, to the vee in his shirt. He bit the skin there as one of Eddie's hands came up to grab a fistful of his hair, tugging.

Steve sucked a bruise into Eddie's skin next to his tattoo, one that would be visible when they returned to the party. Eddie was panting above him, still grinding his cock down onto Steve's thigh, when Steve dropped to his knees.

His absolute favorite thing to do with women was give head. He felt a sudden urge to see if that was the same with men. He looked up at Eddie, who was staring down at him with a shocked look on his face, one hand still fisted in Steve's hair. His wig was askew, tendrils of his curly brown hair escaping around the sides, and his makeup was smudged from their frantic kissing. Steve had never seen anyone more beautiful.

Steve tugged lightly at Eddie's pants, giving him ample opportunity to push Steve away. He didn't push Steve away, so Steve pulled harder, bringing the skin-tight leggings down. As Steve had suspected, he wasn't wearing underwear beneath them, and his cock sprang free, hard and huge.

Steve had always thought himself well-endowed, compared himself to the other guys in the locker room and found himself above average. But Eddie was in a whole other league.

Steve's mouth dropped open as he considered that he may have made a huge mistake. How was it even going to fit? He took a deep breath, psyching himself up, then bent to lick a bead of precum off the head.

Eddie thrust his hips up minutely, clearly struggling hard to keep himself under control, and let out a breathy gasp. The hand in Steve's hair tightened as Steve licked around the head, taking just the tip into his mouth. He held the base of Eddie's cock in one hand, like he remembered girls doing with his, as he slowly sank further.

Steve pressed his tongue against the underside of Eddie's cock as he began to move his mouth up and down. He was only getting about a quarter of his cock into his mouth, but Eddie seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it, if the increasing amounts of precum he could taste were any indication.

"Fuck, Steve," Eddie said as Steve hollowed his cheeks out to provide more suction. Eddie was making little breathy noises, like aborted moans, and Steve could feel the strain in his hips as he tried not to fuck into Steve's mouth.

The weight of Eddie's cock on his tongue combined with his musky scent and the noises he was making were enough to have Steve's cock aching. He started to cup himself with his free hand, pressing his palm into his cock and rubbing as he sucked Eddie off.

Just as his jaw was beginning to ache, Eddie seemed to lose control of his hips, starting to thrust into Steve's mouth a little. "'M gonna come soon, Stevie," Eddie said between breaths. "Might want to vacate the area."

Steve snorted back a laugh, pulling off to say, "Come in my mouth."

Eddie thumped his head back into the door and groaned. "Fucking shit," he said under his breath as Steve took his cock back in his mouth.

Steve started to press his palm harder into his own cock as he bobbed his head on Eddie's, spit slicking his hand now and making it easier to stroke the length of Eddie's shaft that wasn't in his mouth. Steve could feel his own orgasm building, spurred on by the moans falling from Eddie's mouth.

As he felt the first hot spurts of Eddie's cum in his mouth, he rubbed frantically over his own cock, bringing himself to orgasm as he swallowed every drop of Eddie's cum. Steve continued to suck long after their orgasms were finished, enjoying the feel of Eddie's cock softening in his mouth.

Eventually, Eddie tugged at his hair, and Steve finally let his cock slide out of his mouth. He wiped a bit of cum or spit off the side of his mouth and looked up at Eddie.

"If I'd known dressing up as David Bowie would get Steve Harrington on his knees I would have done it a long time ago," Eddie said, pulling Steve up to stand. He reached for the zipper on Steve's jumpsuit, but Steve stilled his hand before he could start to undo it.

"Not going to let me reciprocate?" Eddie asked, looking a little hurt. "Was it just a little experiment for you?"

Steve shook his head vigorously. He grabbed Eddie's hand and moved it down to the wet spot spreading near his cock. "Not at all. Got a little carried away."

Eddie's eyebrows shot up. "You came in your adorable little jumpsuit while you blew me?"

Steve nodded, blushing.

"Fuck, you're unreal. I'm dressing up as Bowie every day," Eddie said.

Someone banged on the door, startling them, and yelled, "What the fuck are you doing in there? Some of us have to piss!"

"Shit. I didn't even get to see you naked," Eddie said, pouting.

"Next time," Steve said, reaching for the door as Eddie pulled up his pants.

"There's gonna be a next time?" Eddie said, eyes twinkling like a kid on Christmas morning.

"There's gonna be a whole lot of next times," Steve said, opening the door.

divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

[pernesophe]

Caught in the Rain by the Shishitoren Captain

(Minors, Ageless and Blank Blogs DNI)

TW: MATURE CONTENT: fluff, a little angst, smut - dirty talk, cunnilingus, vaginal penetration (pnv), fingering, semi-public sex, all characters written as 18+ in mind. MDNI

Synopsis: You are caught by Choji one day on the rain, and become fast friends from there. After the two of you start dating, he takes it slow with you and you feel you have to take matters into your own hands. (Reader has been in a sexually active relationship before, but the partner wasn't good / attentive).

I love Choji sm as a character, so I enjoyed writing this piece, though I think I might edit / add more to it later on. If you’re reading this, then thank you and if you want more wind breaker characters then check out my ML!

It was raining on the day you met the sunshiny captain of Shishitoren. Not like pitter patter rainfall, but a torrential downpour as you sprinted through the streets. Running blindly towards the first bit of cover you saw, which so happened to be a rundown looking theater absolutely plastered in graffiti. As you waited for the rain to stop, huddled under the good parts of the awning, you were shocked to find out that there were people inside. 

Jumping at the sound of the busted looking door behind you swinging open and clanging against the support pole, but you don’t have any time to prepare for what’s about to happen as you are suddenly swept off your feet. Well, more accurately, knocked off your feet as something incredibly fast, hard and aerodynamic (?) slams into you from behind.

“Choji! Someone’s at the front of the door, don’t-” A loud baritone voice comes shouting from inside the theater. It’s far too late for warnings though, as you brace yourself to go skidding across the wet pavement. Tightening your face just as you bring your arms up to avoid the brunt of the fall hitting your jaw, but you never feel the pavement, or even the rain that had been invading through the tears in the awning.

Suddenly, you’re hovering with the ground inches away from your nose, and the rest of your body held at an angle up off the ground. Releasing a trembling breath, and slowly placing your hands on the pavement as the bull in a china shop gracefully lowers you until your knees are also resting on the ground. Finally peering upwards reveals a kind, round face housing a pair of warm, coffee colored eyes that had a honeyed hue reflected in the outdoor lighting, soft mocha locks framed his face as well.

“Sorry, sorry!” Chirping excitedly at you while exuding sunlight from his very core. “I didn’t realize you were out here, are you alright? I didn’t hurt you did I?” Rapid firing his questions as his eyes soften with concern as he tilts his head curiously at your widened eyes and slightly parted lips. Behind him, a tall guy with raven locks and striking green eyes is peering out the door at you and your attacker-turned-savior, concern lining his face too.

“N-no, I’m not hurt! I thought the building was empty so I just didn’t expect you to come out.” Stammering as you finally release the breath you’ve been holding and relax your shoulders. It takes a moment for your body to catch up to your brain and accept that there was no danger present. Shooting an apologetic smile to the adorable guy next you, quickly adding. “I’m sorry for trespassing - I was just trying to get out of the rain.” Explaining your presence at their hangout place with a sheepish grin. He looks thoroughly relieved that you’re unhurt, then beams at you brightly, and you almost feel the need to shield your eyes.

“Why don’t you come inside to get out of the rain?” Offering welcomingly as he straightens and reaches out his hand to help you up. Grasping it lightly and rising to your feet, that’s when you notice that you’re a few inches taller than he is. Something indiscernible flashes in his eyes as he sees your realization, but then your face lights up with an awestruck expression. The fact that he was able to catch, lift, and maneuver you so gracefully despite the size difference thoroughly impressed you.

“That would be great, thank you.” Answering gratefully as you shoot him a kind smile, trying to not give away how much he’s piqued your interest already. Beaming right back, and then he leads you towards the door.

“This is Togame Jo,” motioning to the tall, dark haired guy still in the doorway as he introduces him with a cheery grin. The two of you exchange a polite smile and nod. “And I’m Choji Tomiyama. Are you new around here? I’ve never seen you before.” Tilting his head as his curious tone reflects the gleam in his eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you both, I’m Y/N L/N, and yes I am. I just moved here a week ago, so I got a little lost in the rain.” Informing them as they both nod and offer you a general ‘welcome to town’. “Oh, also, thank you for catching me before!” Adding quickly as you turn to Choji. “I was definitely about to fall flat on my face… You’re really strong. Do you compete in any sports?” As you compliment Choji, it’s like seeing a peacock spread its plumage as he beams brightly at you and throws his shoulders back a bit more. Togame puffs out a laugh and shakes his head at his captain’s ego.

“No sports! We just fight a lot!” Responding cheerily as he completely misses the way your eyes go wide - never having heard that before.

“Oh, so like martial arts?” Inquiring as your curiosity begins to steep.

“Yeah, some, but a lot of people just punch and kick without using a technique like that.” Explaining with a shrug of his shoulders, like you’re already aware of what he’s talking about. Nodding slowly as if you understand, but then you shoot a questioning look at Togame who is avoiding your gaze completely. The three of you arrive at a set of doors that look like they lead into a fancy theater. It sounds loud inside - a lot of whooping, hollering and maybe banging? 

“Y’know Choji, maybe-” Togame starts to voice his reservations, but in true Choji style - the shorter male doesn’t listen and pulls the doors open wide. The scene revealed to you is one you’ve only witnessed in movies. An auditorium with every seat filled with men about Choji and Togame’s age who were all wearing the same orange jackets that they were sporting. They were whooping and cheering as two men fought on stage. It was weird if it were a sport, because you don’t see a referee as the two men punch and kick at each other - spraying blood across the stage.

Choji peers expectantly your way, but you’re just stuck blinking at the scene. Only then does the sunshiny male feel self conscious that maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to show you what seems to be a teenage fight ring. Just as Togame’s mind starts racing to find a response for your questioning look that would put you and Choji at ease - you take a step into the auditorium.

They both exchange bewildered looks as you slowly make your way towards a standing area with a banister. Choji watches apprehensively as you lean forward on your forearms on the banister and watch the fight with rising interest. Cautiously, he approaches and stands next to you, and Togame takes the spot on your other side. In a hushed tone, you speak to both of them.

“Is there a point system? Or is it like whoever is left standing wins?” Turning to ask the question over your shoulder, purely curious. Again, Choji and Togame exchange bewildered looks - thoroughly confused as to why you haven’t run away yet.

“Whoever is left standing wins…” Mumbling just loud enough for you to hear as he peers at you out of the corner of his eye, and finally taking in your features. Soft, flowing locks that draped down your back and framed a face filled with delicate features. Most striking, he thought, were your eyes which were now filled with awe and wonder.

“What do they win? Or is it for, like… glory?” The questions continue rolling off your tongue, again out of pure curiosity, but as you turn to meet Choji’s gaze it is confirmed by the complete lack of judgment in your eyes. You’re practically buzzing with excitement as you wait for his answer.

“Glory, kind of…” Choji murmurs hesitantly again, and when you tilt your head towards him with an expectant look - hoping he would elaborate - he goes on to explain Shishitoren, their ideals and devotion to power. Togame and Choji thought by then, maybe, you’d run away. Instead you listen, enthralled by their little world, as you ask clarifying questions with a curious gleam in your gaze. By the end, you basically knew the history of Shishitoren, how Choji became leader, and all the top ranking fighters there. Just as you were enthralled by them regaling about themselves, Choji was just as enthralled watching you listen intently. A precious notch would form in your brow every time you had a clarifying question, and he adored the way it would smooth out and be replaced by a look of pleasant surprise when he answered it.

It wasn’t long before other members of Shishitoren noticed Choji’s focus for the day, and some of them wondered if this would be a one time thing. It, in fact, was not a one time thing. As it turns out you live around the corner from Ori, and would not only run into Choji and Togame, but the other members of Shishitoren often. Other than the Captain and his Second, who always greeted you and struck up a conversation, the other members were awkward around you - but still kind. They just didn’t know how to receive you yet, or how you fit in at Ori. 

It became abundantly clear with every street fight you witnessed that they were frequently sporting nasty cuts and bruises. Often you would stop injured Shishitoren members on their way to Ori to ask if they had bandages and stuff for their injuries. At first they noncommittally would say yes, even though they were constantly running low, and try to scurry away. It wasn’t long before they learned to just let you help them, because every time they walked by with their injuries still untreated you would ask them about it, or offer them some supplies, or just offer to patch them up yourself. Eventually it became commonplace for the Shishitoren team to visit the little Konbini you worked in to get patched up and be sent on their way with a snack and drink.

In return, you were allowed free reign of Ori after living in the area for only a few months. No one gave you strange looks anymore when you would show up to watch a fight, or to just simply hang out. Choji, Togame and you became very close during that time, but you grew closest to Choji. It was difficult to not want to constantly bask in his warm smile and kind gaze.

The first time he kissed you was right after a big brawl that occurred right behind the Konbini - he had popped his head in to tell you to stay inside for the time being with his signature grin. The fight must’ve been long and arduous because when Choji returned, several hours later after the sun had set, he was covered in blood and was sporting a rather nasty cut above his left brow. Wasting no time patching him up - even going as far as making him take off his shirt so you could thoroughly check him for severe cuts or broken ribs. 

It was then, when you were running the pad of your finger over his ribs for any sign of breaks - with your hair tickling his nose from your face being so close - that he reached down to cup your cheek and kissed you meaningfully. It was in secret as other Shishitoren members were gathering outside - it was exhilarating, and just plain old hot. Choji, ever the passionate man, wasted no time pulling you closer in between his thighs - him sitting on the counter and you standing in front of him - so you could feel his growing bulge on your abdomen. He carded his fingers through your hair to grip the back of your head so he could kiss you ravenously - licking and nipping desperately at your lips until you granted him access. As his tongue roamed your welcoming mouth, his hands mapped your yearning body - running his hand down your side and around your hip so he could grip your ass and lift you even closer to him.

He would’ve gone farther, had you not let out a panicked whine and parted from him with surprised eyes while panting hard. Quickly, you had explained to him that while you like him - this was moving a little too fast for you - and that you wanted to take it slower. Heart beating out of your chest, you fully expected him to reject you and ban you from Ori.

“Okay, I can take it slow, but I don’t wanna risk someone else stealing you away… Will you be my girlfriend?” Dipping his head towards you to punctuate his question, his eyes showed how gravely serious he was as they searched yours for an answer.

“Yeah - I’d really like that.” Breathing out as overwhelming relief drenched your nerves while you beamed up at your now boyfriend. Choji presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, and that was the start of him restraining his desire for you - to not scare you away. At the time, you didn’t realize how much his restraint would come to frustrate you.

Once you and Choji became official, everyone at Shishitoren was overly accepting of the new status. It didn’t change much - you still had free reign of Ori and you still patched up all of their wounds. The only real change is how openly protective Shishitoren members have become towards you in general - you weren’t really expecting it. Apparently it had been ongoing since Choji met you, but none of them had ever let on that their Captain basically told them if they can protect you and they don’t, then he’ll hold them accountable.

Other than that, your and Choji’s relationship stays basically the same… except for the fact that you can’t get the way he kissed you out of your head. Reminding yourself - every day - that you wanted to take it slow, but then you’d be flooded with memories of the way his tongue felt against yours or how breathless he made you and you just want to jump his bones right there. Eventually, you start taking a different approach by wearing outfits that you knew would get him flustered. It never worked though - Choji kept that unwavering smile on his face through any attempt on your part to ruffle his feathers in hopes that would lead to him pinning you somewhere and taking you right there - regardless of who saw. But as you continue your attempts, and your boyfriend remains oblivious, you start to feel self conscious that, despite the kiss, maybe he doesn’t see you like that? Maybe you're too tall? Or too weak? The thoughts swirl in your mind, until one day you take matters into your own hands.

Choji and you are in the recreation room - Choji relaxing on the couch, and you are doing inventory on bandages and supplies. The room was empty other than the two of you, which afforded you a rare chance alone to ogle your boyfriend in peace. As your task comes to an end, slowing your movements so you can watch Choji mindlessly scroll on his phone. Mocha locks hung in front of his eyes from looking over his phone, but the rest of his lithe body is leaning back into the couch with one arm resting along the back. His legs are spread wide which makes his shorter form seem so much more imposing, and for a moment you are struck with the idea to straddle him out of the blue, since his lap looks like such an inviting seat at the moment.

Pushing all self conscious thoughts aside, you take a deep breath before crossing the room to stand in front of Choji. Barely hearing the soft padding of your feet as you approached, but he sees your toes in front of his shoes over the top of his phone. Raising his gaze to your determined one, he flashes you a smile as he tosses his phone to the other end of the couch, and then cocks his head as if he was about to ask what’s wrong.

Before he can speak, you press one of your knees into the cushion next to his thigh - Choji’s eyebrows shoot up as he eyes the hem of your skirt swaying around your thighs - but you continue to sink your other knee into the cushion next to his other thigh and lower yourself completely until you’re straddling his lap. Slowly you reach up to rest your wrists on the hardened muscle of his shoulders as you let one hand dangle over the back of the couch while the other cards your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck. The whole time you got into position, you watched Choji’s face closely for any sign of discomfort or disgust, but he just watched you in pure awe. Finally, he looks at your face clearly with a dark glint in his eye, but he finds that you’re already blushing badly with a worried look on your face. It was obvious that you didn’t know how to proceed.

“Nervous?” Teasing you softly in a lighthearted tone, and you nod in response which causes his brow to raise questioningly. Then, adjusting slightly so you're sitting completely on his lap, and then he grabs your hips gently and pulls you closer before peering up at you with a concerned notch in his brow.

“Choji… do you think I’m…” beginning slowly, and he gently rubs your lower back with one hand as the other drifts to rest comfortingly on your thigh. It’s an attempt to encourage you to continue, but an inferno ignites under your skin from his touch. Swallowing hard before you meet his gaze with more determination this time, causing a small amused smile to play on his lips. “Do you think I’m attractive?” Murmuring softly, in a tone that says you’re expecting a ‘no’.

“What makes you ask that? I call you beautiful more than I say your name Y/N.” Remarking incredulously, but his smile is still brighter than the sun.

“I-I know… but you don’t touch me, really…” mumbling defensively, avoiding his warming gaze.

“I’m touching you right now,” he teases - not letting you beat around the bush just like how you do with him.

“We hold hands, hug, and share a kiss in private sometimes… but you don’t touch me like…” your words cut off in your throat as tears prick your eyes. Choji stops teasing you then as he brings a hand to cup your cheek and force you to look at him.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me. Whatever you need to say is important, so please tell me.” Assuring you with an unfaltering smile as he thumbs away your tears. 

“I feel like you don’t touch me like you want me…” when Choji’s brow creases slightly, you huff and force yourself to be clearer. “You don’t try to touch me like a boyfriend would… You haven’t tried to kiss me like on that night, when you asked me to be your girlfriend… Why don’t you? Am I not desirable…?” Whispering in a voice is so small that sounds completely defeated as your shoulders slump slightly. His thumb stills on your cheek as he realizes how you've been feeling lately.

“Of course you are.” Affirming in such a deadpan tone, leaving no room for argument, and you just stare at him. “I don’t push it with you because you’re shy about this stuff, and the last thing I want is to scare you away. But if you feel ready, and you want me to touch you like that, then just tell me.” He sounds so nonchalant - like you hadn’t just bared your heart to him - but it actually did make you feel better. Your shoulders felt lighter as you realized he’s just been holding back… you wanted to see how Choji is when he lets himself act on his desires.

“Choji.” Saying meaningfully as you meet his heated gaze with yours. ‘Mhm’ he chirps back. “I want you to touch me… like that… please.” You whisper, that fragile feeling returning tenfold as you wait for his response.

“Finally.” Breath fanning your lips as his lids become half lidded. Cupping your face in one hand, he presses his lips to yours and takes his time feeling you before he nips at your bottom lip for more. Once your lips are parted and you grant him entrance, he is detailed and thorough about claiming your mouth. Caressing and flicking your tongue, and wetting your lips with his saliva. His other hand grips your hip tightly and presses you down so your core grinds against his growing length. At the same time he grinds up against you, completely overwhelming your senses as you whine out his name. Your panties are soaked and dampening his jeans in a matter of moments.

Suddenly, the door flies open and Arima and Kunuma are standing in the doorway bearing witness to their captain groping and tasting you, and more importantly, not stopping.

Whipping your head towards them, you immediately remove your hands from Choji’s hair at the nape of his neck to lay them flat on his chest as you try to lean back and eek out a ‘sorry!’ in their direction. Choji doesn’t let you lean back though, instead he keeps you flush to him, and doesn’t turn to look at the other two guys. Instead he continues peppering kisses along your throat up to your jaw where he pauses and presses his nose to the skin along your jawline, causing your eyes to widen as you peer down at him through the corner of your eye. Choji still doesn’t turn his head to the door, only his dark eyes flick to the two intruders and pin them in place.

“Arima, Kunuma - I’ll come down when she’s finished, okay?” He whispers against your jaw in a light and cheery voice, but there was an undertone that wordlessly conveyed ‘get the fuck out before I remove you’. It didn’t go unnoticed that Choji was deliberate in saying when you finish, and though you don’t know what he means the way his voice rumbled low when he said it made you clench around nothing eagerly. Turning to look at him in surprise, as you prepare to chastise him for not prioritizing his team, but his dark eyes are already trained on you once more as he starts moving you on his lap again - cutting off your protests with a breathy whine of his name that causes him to groan deep in his throat and shoot you a hungry look.

“Can you keep saying my name like that angel?” He says in a low, teasing tone that makes you grab the hair at the nape of his neck this time as he speeds up his pace. You were embarrassed, but the headiness didn’t let you dwell on it as Arima and Kunuma got the hint and quickly shut the door behind them. They made sure to relay that Choji was busy and to not bother them - a Freudian slip on their part. You weren’t worried about being teased though, since Choji may actually kill anyone who makes you feel embarrassed about this.

“What if there’s a turf scuffle, or-“ Preparing to protest his choice, but he spanks your thigh lightly as he flashes an unbothered grin your way.

“I’ve waited this whole time for you to feel ready and have the confidence to tell me what you want - even when you were being so obvious - I’ve waited for you to say it. I’m not going to pass up the chance to reward you for that.” As Choji speaks, he braces an arm around your back and flips you so he’s positioned above you and slotting his hips between yours. “As for a turf scuffle… I’ll deal with it after you’ve finished, and God help them for choosing today to do it.” Growling low and gravelly against your throat as he licks and nips down the opening of your button up blouse to your plush breasts. A breathy moan bubbles out of your chest, despite the underlying threat in Choji’s tone. He meant what he said - he was actually pissed about a potential fight, and did hope God helped them, because once he fucks you to sleep - he’s gonna make them regret not giving him the chance to cuddle you until he passed out.

Refocusing on you, Choji peppers kisses along your collarbone to the point where they meet, and then let his lips drift into the valley of your breasts where he presses sloppy, open mouth kisses to the sensitive flesh there. At the same time, he’s expertly undoing the buttons of your blouse to reveal more of your soft torso to him as you grip into his hair and mewl pathetically under his ministrations. It’s not long that Choji has you in just your bra and panties under him on the couch, his mouth and tongue following his fingers everywhere he touches your priming body. Just as his fingers dance around to your back to unhook your bra, you stop him, and a subtle look of dismay that flashes over his face.

“Choji…” Whining up at him softly with lidded eyes and messy hair splayed around you quells his worries and makes his cock twitch - you already look fucked out of your mind. 

“I wanna touch you too… Let me see you…” Pleading to him with pouty lips as you tug at the hem of his shirt. Choji curses under his breath and looks away from you to try and get some of his control back, then after releasing a trembling breath he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head and tosses it across the room in one motion. Bangs fall over his eyes as he peers down at you again, his lithe chest and torso on display, and even though his arms weren’t that large you could still see the ripple of muscle under the skin as he flexes under your greedy stare. Tilting his head slightly so he can look at you clearly, and suddenly he’s beaming down at you with that typical sunshiney grin that’s doing things to you that you never knew it could. Funnily enough, Choji was having a similar thought about those innocent eyes trained on nothing else but him, and your pouty lips that he’s just dying to see wrapped around his-

Not this time, Choji. This time is all about her. Reminding himself as you reach up and hook your fingers into the band of his jeans and boxers - not meaning to skim the sensitive skin there or the plumage of hair that’s now tickling your fingertips. You almost apologize, but then Choji drops forward, planting his hands on the couch so you’re caged in his arms as his nose brushes yours. For a moment you both stare wide eyed at one another.

“I’m a little more sensitive than I thought,” he chuckles with that look that’s brighter than the sun - breaking the awkward tension. “These too then, I assume?” Asking casually, as if he’s not offering to just strip for you. Your eyes widen under his unflappable smile as you sheepishly nod.

“Yes, please.” Whispering hoarsely as Choji climbs off of you and you prop up on your elbows to watch the show. Unsurprisingly, Choji had no qualms about being naked in front of you - removing his jeans and boxers in .5 seconds before turning to face you without even trying to cover his throbbing cock between his thighs. Immediately your gaze zeroes in on the hardened member. Choji’s cock was average length, but girthier than you would expect with thick veins running along it up to a thick mushroom head that is pretty pink and leaking a drop of precum. As your gaze lingers a little too long - your lips parted in an astonished ‘o’ - Choji twitches his cock so your attention is drawn upwards to his overly amused face.

“If you keep looking at me like that, then my head will get too big for my body.” He teases and then chuckles lowly at the longing look in your eyes - pupils blown wide completely as you no longer care how desperate you look for him. Ignoring his words as you reach your arms out for him - requesting that he return to his position on top of you. Choji follows suit immediately, laying his body fully on top of yours so you can feel the head of his throbbing cock press against your bundle of nerves through your damp panties. Wasting no time bringing his attention back to your breasts where he captures your nipple in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it as he uses one hand to grab your other breast and pinch your nipple. All the while, his free hand is gripping your hip and pinning you to the couch while Choji grinds down on you. Loud mewls and cries tumbled from your lips, accompanied with the most wanton moans around Choji’s name - all of Ori had to hear you by this point, but neither you nor your energetic lover cared, and no one came to interrupt the two of you either. Choji feels his control wearing thin, as he leans back on his heels and hooks his fingers in the band of your panties and rips them down your legs before you can protest. Leaning forward so his mouth is lined up with your puffy folds, and then he slides his hands under your thighs and pushes them up until your knees are to your chest.

“Choji! What are you doing?” Crying out, having no idea what’s to come since no guy you've been with before him has done this to you.

“Shhh…” Cooing softly up at you as he places feather light kisses to your thighs leading to your throbbing core. “I just wanna taste, can I?” Asking eagerly with an excited gleam in his coffee colored eyes. Slowly, you nod at him - still unsure of what he meant. Then, Choji sticks out his tongue and flattens it to your glistening folds before licking a stripe up to your clit where he circles it with the tip of his tongue. Back arching from the moment he started as he then brings his wet muscle down to start slowly tongue fucking you. Even though the pace was so slow - true to his word, he wants to taste you thoroughly - you can feel yourself falling apart on his tongue as that fuzzy feeling starts in your abdomen and grows into a taut string.

Just when you think you can’t take anymore, Choji slides one finger experimentally into your fluttering hole and begins pumping in and out at a languid pace. At the same time, he writes his name on your clit with the tip of his tongue. After you’ve adjusted to one finger, he adds a second and searches for the spongy spot that he knows will make you lose it. As his fingertips prod your gummy walls, and you let out a strangled moan, he begins making a ‘come hither’ motion against it. Changing his approach to your clit as well, choosing to instead wrap his lips around it and suck gently until the string snaps completely and you’re flooded with a buzzing feeling in your veins as your throbbing cunt clenches down on his fingers and your thighs shake. Choji continues pumping his fingers and kissing your clit - working you through your orgasm. “You’re so sweet Y/N... and you took my fingers so well…” Musing, voice low in his chest, as he leans back on his heels and brings his fingers to his mouth - wrapping his glistening lips around them to lick off every last droplet of you. Choji stares down at you with the most awestruck eyes the whole while, which just makes you squirm under his open adoration. Then, you realize your boyfriend hasn’t gotten to feel good at all yet.

“Choji?” Asking in a timid tone as you prop yourself up on your elbows. He cocks one heather colored brow as he removes his fingers with a ‘pop’ from his mouth.

“Hm?” Humming back as he slowly leans forward and places his hands on the couch on either side of your hips, so he is nose to nose with you again. That iconic “Choji” grin plastered on his face as he regards you with curiously pleased eyes.

“Can I make you feel good too?” Pleading in such a small voice that you’re afraid he didn’t hear you, but as you see his eyes widen and blush creep over his cheeks - you know that he did. A pregnant pause passes, and you start to worry that he’s gonna reject you, but then he tilts his head slightly with such a caring look in his eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to - I really, really do… But I don’t want you to feel like we’re moving too fast, or that I’m pushing you…” Explaining himself slowly, trying his best not to reject your feelings. Disappointment flashes across your face and Choji almost apologizes, but then determination quickly replaces it.

“You aren’t pushing me though, I’m asking you for it. Earlier you said that you would touch me like that if I asked… Does that still apply now?” Posing the question, as your tone falters slightly despite your determination as you present your points. Your sunshiney lover releases a sigh of defeat.

“I always forget that you used to debate. I may be good at physical fights, but I’m never winning with words when it comes to you.” Sighing softly as he shakes his head at you with a small smile gracing his lips, and you perk up a bit as you scoot closer to him. “How do you want to…” Peering at you through thick lashes as he gestures to the couch and your naked bodies to silently finish his question.

“Can I be on top?” Proposing quickly as you peer down at his girthy, throbbing cock settled on the tops of his thighs. Bringing your gaze back to his, you see his eyes are wide, but a pleasantly surprised smile plays on his lips. He just nods slowly, trusting that you have an idea of what you want to do, as the two of you get into your positions.

Choji is laid on his back, legs slightly spread and head on the arm of the couch. You are sitting on your knees, straddling his hips with one hand gripping the back of the couch, and the thick head of his cock parting your folds and nudging your entrance. Lithe, strong hands hold onto your hips for stability, but he is letting you take the lead. Enraptured, he watches a notch form in your brows as you oh so slowly sink down onto his cock. The notch deepens as your breathing grows uneven with every inch you take, and as your hips finally meet as he bottoms out - you whine breathily. Your walls try to clench around his impossibly thick member causing him to hiss out a breath to stop himself from bucking his hips.

“Fuck, Choji!” Crying out as you lean forward and splay your hands on his chest. He holds your hips securely in place so you can continue adjusting to his size as he watches with bated breath as you try not to cum just from him entering you. Rubbing soothing circles into the fat of your hips with the pads of his thumbs as your fluttering walls calm around him. Finally, you open your eyes to see your boyfriend has the look of a person who’s just seen God for the first time. The way his blown pupils travel the planes of your face, and down your slightly trembling body to where the two of you connect and then so slowly back up to meet your gaze again - you’d half expect him to start building an altar after this. Involuntarily, your gummy walls clench around him from the blatant want in his stare, and he groans low as he closes his eyes.

“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N… I can’t wait to mold your little hole to my cock.” Murmuring up at you as he slowly opens his eyes, and at the same time he begins lifting you up his cock at a leisurely pace. Shutting your eyes while your lips fall into an ‘o’ as the tip of his cock is poking your entrance again, and then you throw your head back with a strangled cry as he grips you with bruising strength and brings your hips down as he cants his up to meet yours. Starting out with an easy pace - not too hard, or deep since he didn’t want to hurt you - but as that fuzzy feeling starts to return without any of the tautness you begin to whine out in frustration.

“Faster! Harder! Please, Choji!” Your cries echo around the room as you look down at your boyfriend beggingly. Not needing to be told twice as his thrusts turn powerful enough to cause the feet of the couch to thump against the hard floor. Letting his grip lessen on your hips a bit so that he can just thrust upwards causing you to bounce and fall back down his length. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as the tautness in your belly finally starts to form and you dig your fingernails into the back of the couch to try to ground yourself. 

Suddenly, Choji plants his feet flat against the couch which changes his position and causes him to thrust harder and deeper into your sopping cunt as he resumes using a bruising grip on your hips. His hardened, thick tip bumps deliciously against that spongy spot now that’s making stars burst behind your eyes as your whole body tenses. Your gummy walls clench forcefully around Choji, making him hiss, groan and try not to cum on the spot, as your orgasm rips through your body with full force. The pulse from your core to your clit travels through your pelvis, spreading into a tingling buzz that prickles your skin all over. The feeling is crashing through your body so violently that you barely register when Choji growls, “Fuck, Y/N! I’m gonna cum I can-” which is quickly caught off by a low groan followed by an apprehensive hiss. Everything is so intense that you don’t even feel Choji’s white ropes coat and cling to your still pulsing walls as you collapse against his sweat sheened chest. Wrapping his arms around you as he strokes your unruly hair and peppers kisses along your hairline as you shake like a leaf on top of him.

It takes some time for your breathing to steady, but once it does you peer lovingly up at your sunshiney lover, who is already staring down at you with the worshiping look he wore earlier. Quickly you hide your face into his chest as he chuckles and pokes your cheek.

“Why are you hiding?” Tittering softly, but his cheery tone didn’t completely hide his worry.

“If you keep looking at me like that, then my head will get bigger than my body too…” Mumbling softly, parroting his words from earlier, as you bashfully peer up at him. Any worry that may have been brewing disappears in that moment, as his teasing side comes back in full force.

“And, how am I looking at you?” Inquiring with a tilt of his head and a lopsided grin.

“Like I’m so kind of… Deity or something. It seriously looks like you’re thinking of constructing an altar, or a temple after this!” Laughing out while you swat his chest playfully, an embarrassed blush creeping over your cheeks. Choji’s teasing smile is replaced with one of reverence mixed with a sultry heat.

“Maybe I’ll do both.” Claiming with an earnest undertone as he pressed a kiss to your forehead and buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent. Your walls clench around Choji’s half hard cock that's started to grow inside of you again, and breath hitches in your throat as your eyes become half lidded.

Just as the two of you lean in for a kiss, the door flies open again. This time Choji is quick enough to grab his Shishitoren jacket and drape it over you before Togame is looming in the doorway, blushing madly. Pinching his nose and sighing deeply before staring Choji right in the eye, who is grinning back at him as if he isn’t currently inside of you. Burying your head in his chest to avoid whatever embarrassment is to come as Togame breaks the silence.

“Choji. There’s a new team moving in our territory - they’re gathering for a fight now - can you…?” Trailing off with a ‘come on’ gesture of his hand to indicate that they need their captain to get to work. Choji laughs lightly and nods.

“I’ll be right down. Wanna give us a minute?” Choji asks with an arch of his brow, and you feel his whole body turn to bedrock as he tenses under you. His fully hardened cock twitches inside of you causing you to whine softly into his chest, and your cheeks to burn. Togame audibly gulps, before walking back out.

“I’m gonna be in the hall. 5 minutes, please Choji.” Is all he says before shutting the door. Once you hear the door click, you peer up at your boyfriend - ready to apologize for whining - but his heated stare is already trained on you. The words die on your tongue as he begins to sit up, with you still securely around him. Your eyes widened at him as his usually cheerful grin turned predatory and he made no attempt to move you off of him. Instead, he quickly maneuvers you around so your back is flush to his back and your knees are parted on either side of his thighs. Grinning wide into your neck, his low voice vibrates against your skin.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he teases, voice like honey. “But I can’t just leave you unsatisfied,” he whispers, voice turning smoky now as one hand snakes around to brace your torso against him and his other hand travels down to play with your clit. As the pad of his finger begins gently circling the bundle of nerves, Choji leans back into the couch and you with him as he plants his feet flat to the floor and begins thrusting upwards with sharp jolts that have the backs of your thighs clapping against the tops of his.

“Cho-Chojiii-” his name is broken off with a sharp gasp escaping your throat as the head of his cock stimulates that spot that makes you feel breathless and teary eyed. “To-Togame is ri-right out-outside!” Throwing your head back with stilted cries as his thrusts cut off your words and the ensuing descent punches the air out of your lungs so deliciously.

“Mhm, think he’d want to watch?” Choji whispers against the shell of your ear before licking a stripe up the nape of your neck, causing you to whine pathetically and clench around him. “Oh? I can call him in if you want… Hey To-” His whisper becomes a little louder as he turns his head towards the door.

“No!” Sobbing out, too overwhelmed to say anything else as your pussy clenches around him again. 

“You’re right, this time is for us, but I think she likes the idea…” Using a teasing tone as he nuzzles into your neck and continues his jolting thrusts. “I wonder what she thinks of me and Togame sharing you?” Murmuring against your pulse point before nipping and licking your sensitive skin. Even before his ministrations began, as soon as you heard the mention of your boyfriend and Togame, your walls begin spasming around his thick cock as you throw your head back and moan so loud. Choji grins into your throat as he picks up the speed of his fingers rubbing mercilessly on your pulsing clit. 

Suddenly, the dam breaks, and your over sensitive core clamps down on him as you cry out his name desperately. His fingers continue stimulating your clit, working you through your orgasm, as your drooling cunt leaks over his thighs, in between them and down onto the couch. Your gummy walls keep milking him for all he’s worth until he stills his hips flash to your plush behind and drops his head onto your shoulder as he releases a second load into you. 

Once the two of you come down, he shifts you off his lap and lays you on the couch, and then he goes to retrieve a damp cloth to clean you and him up. Dressing quickly before he finds you a clean extra large shirt laying around to put you in and a blanket to lay over you. Sleep has already claimed you as you snore softly against the clean part of the couch. Choji can’t help but lovingly stroke your hair and kiss the top of your head before heading out.

Togame is standing in the hall with a hand over his face and a bright blush shining through his fingers. The second Choji shuts the door, his raven haired friend turns on his heel and starts stalking down the hallway to avoid embarrassment. His Captain doesn’t push him, just wears a satisfied grin as he accurately clocks the sexual tension he’s just manifested between his girlfriend and best friend.  As they are exiting the building, Choji sees Sako carrying a hurt Shishitoren member back towards Ori.

“Sako! Leave him in the theater, and grab the First Aid kit from behind the stage. Y/N is resting in the rec room, so don’t let anyone go in there or wake her up, okay?” Instructing the silent male with a cheery grin as Sako continues carrying the other member, grumbling an ‘ok’ back. The only change in his demeanor is that he is now sporting a dark blush over his cheeks - probably from all the noise the two of you made before the team fled Ori. With that the Shishitoren Captain and his Second head towards the sounds of a fight. Choji being a wellspring of boundless energy, rushes forward without hearing any details from a still blushing Kame-chan.

[writertothemaximum]

Yuuji with a tall (pushing it at 198cm) scary transfer student from America who's kind of a punk but he's sweet sometimes (mainly only to yuuji) perchance?🧐(N/sfw)

ヤンキー・Yankee: Pt. I

Yuuji x tall delinquent male reader

content // Reader comes from a strict American family, canon-typical violence, reader is a juju tech transfer student, reader is a bit depressed, Reader is smitten™️, (yuuji is too), very wholesome, pre-relationship

note // read part two here! (nsfw)

-When your family moved to Tokyo for “business” related reasons, nothing could have prepared you for the culture shock. The language was one thing, but there were all these social customs that were just implied. No one said anything bluntly to your face, even if they did speak comprehensible English, which a lot of people did. Was it because you were an outsider? Was it because you were American?

-Maybe because of this, you found the life of delinquency easy. Maybe it was because you were 6’6” and no one was going to fuck with a dude twice their height, because nothing meant a quick trip to the hospital like getting into a fight with you.

-But people did. And you busted their faces in. It’s what they deserved. One time you broke your fist on someone’s nose. It was worth it. You got suspended and grounded by your parents, but so what? You never provoked people, they just came at you, and it was within your right to defend yourself. Isolation wasn’t caused by ostracization, it was caused by defense, and in your opinion, there was a lot to be defended.

-One day, your parents told you that you were getting transferred to a select school a little bit outside the city. A strange man (who was surprisingly close to your height) came by the house, offered to fist-fight you, and for the first time in your life, you got your ass whipped.

-It was a this point that you realized that the “imaginary friends” you had been seeing since childhood were called “curses,” and that maybe there was a place in the world for your violence. It had just been an outlet, maybe now you had a purpose.

-Very quickly, you realized that Jujutsu Tech also wasn’t home. A part of you wondered if anywhere in Japan could be. Before you were even given your own dorm room, you were sent with another student for a “trial run.” He didn’t talk to you much, and it took two hours into the thing before you even learned his name. It was like your parents had sent you to military school, and in a sense, they did.

-That was until you met Yuuji.

-Yuuji wasn’t like the other students. In many ways, he was like you. To no surprise, many of the students at Jujutsu Tech were also former delinquents, Megumi included—But Yuuji was different. He had blood on his hands, but there was no way you could tell. From the moment you met, he actively talked to you, tried to get to know you, treated you with respect, that’s just how he treated everyone, that was Itadori Yuuji.

-It’s not like no one had ever given you the kindness of humanity before, but Yuuji was different. Why wasn’t he afraid of you? Why wasn’t he intimidated? Maybe he was and he just never let it on, maybe it was because he’d beaten up kids just like you when he was in middle school, you didn’t really know. But it wasn’t just that. He was sweet he was funny he was kind. You were a friend, just like anyone else.

-Yuuji liked watching foreign films, and would invite you to go watch them in the city if any theaters had showings (and since it was Tokyo, they almost always did). After the movie, the two of you’d walk around and discuss what you liked, what you didn’t. One time, Yuuji asked about your home. He asked if you missed it, and a part of you did. A lot of you did. You didn’t talk to your friends anymore since everything had changed. Would they even believe you, anyways? Fighting monsters, living in what felt like another world?

-Yuuji understood you, he always did. That’s what’s so charming about him, is that he can feel what you’re feeling. At that time, he gave you a hug, and told you that he can’t send you home, but he can do his best to make Tokyo your new one. Maybe there’d be a piece of home here, maybe you could find a quiet spot, surrounded by the greenery of your youth, and the two of you could sit and chat while the memories flooded in.

-That was the first time you had cried since you moved abroad, and you vowed to make it your last. Somehow, Itadori Yuuji had weaved into your heart, and you weren’t about to give him up anytime soon.

If you liked this story, please give the post a reblog, or send me another request :)

Thanks for reading!

// read part two here! (nsfw)

[bonesxbows]

Act Naturally - Chapter 1 (Cooper Howard X Reader)

Masterlist

While exploring an old section of Hollywood, the two of you stumble upon an old advertisement for a cowboy movie. But the man on the poster looks suspiciously a lot like Cooper, even down to the same smile. But it couldn't possibly be him...right?

(WARNINGS) - anger issues - negative self talk (from Cooper not you)

I feel like I dragged this on for way longer than it needed to be BUT it's a done thing now and tbh I'm pretty happy with it. I fucking adore soft Cooper moments and idc if I have to write them all myself

Also! This idea came from @land-of-evergreens-and-dye so full credit to them for letting me stew on this prompt

Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Reblogs and comments much appreciated!

Banners by @strangergraphics

The two of you had found yourselves in an old section of Hollywood. It had been so long since Cooper had told you his reason for bringing you here that you’d forgotten what his motivation for this excursion was. Although it didn’t really matter to you, you’d follow him anywhere whether he wanted you to tag along or not. There was no separating you two. Not anymore. 

Most of the buildings had been boring to scavenge through, if you could even find a way inside at all. Not much was left of the boulevard besides dusty sidewalks and rusting billboards. But one building in particular piqued your interest. It had a larger facade than all the rest where small billboard-like signs hung above the wide double doors. Broken and busted bulb lights framed the signs and the rows of black lettering were missing far too many letters to be able to read it clearly. What letters you could make out only baffled you more than the strange-looking building did. 

‘Co - How - Starr - in - Th - M - Fr - Dea - Horse’

“Horse? What’s a horse?” you asked out loud, more to yourself than to him. He usually never listened to your mid-exploring ramblings, though he never did tell you to stop. You turned around to find him staring up at the old sign too, although his brow was creased and a scowl was stuck on his face. You placed a hand on his shoulder and he turned to you, his expression softening as his eyes shifted to looking at you instead. 

“You wanna check inside there, don’ you?” He asked. 

You nodded and gave him a small smile. “Can we? Please? I’ve never seen any place like it before.” 

“Hm. ‘Spose we can. But make it quick alright?” He checked his pistol’s ammunition levels and flipped the barrel back into place once he was satisfied. You led the way forward, pushing the swinging doors inward as Cooper was right behind you, pistol in hand and trigger finger ready. 

He was a little disappointed when the place appeared to be empty. But the feeling didn’t last, he couldn’t stay upset as he watched you scurry around the place, your eyes wide with fascination. The interior was even more astonishing to you than the exterior had been. Rows of folding booth-like chairs covered the majority of the floor, their fabric exterior faded and torn, and in the back of the building was a wooden stage. Ragged old curtains framed the blank wall behind the stage where its faded white paint chipped and peeled off the plaster. There wasn’t much hiding between the rows of chairs besides dust and sand but you still kept your hopes high that the rest of the building would hold something worthwhile. 

“What is this place? Some kind of shooting gallery?” you asked, your wasteland-born intelligence of pre-war places was lacking, but fortunately for you, Cooper liked you enough to fill you in on what knowledge you didn't have. 

He chuckled at your observation. He supposed a shooting gallery was just about the closest thing you could get to a theater these days. “Not ‘xactly, sweetheart. It was used for movies, picture shows, that kinda thing. A place where folks could feign ignorance ‘bout the end of the world fast approachin’ on their heels.” 

“Movies? Like the kind on those busted-up televisions?” you continued to explore around as you talked. He followed you, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary that could be dangerous while you focused on the useful and exciting things you could find. 

“Mmhm. Just like those. Never endin’ loops of fairytale stories kept alive by people long gone by now.” he explained, and you ended the conversation after that. His voice was strained and scruffy, meaning he was either remembering something he wanted to forget or he was getting agitated. Either way, you knew it was in your best interest to stop asking questions. 

Things got progressively more interesting when you discovered the back rooms of the building. The first one had been large, with dusty velvet ropes leading to a counter filled with food machines and nuka-cola dispensers, you’d come back here to scavenge all the food you could carry with you on your way out, but the hallways and storage rooms were what really piqued your attention. 

Posters lined the wooden walls of the hallways, the plaster that had once surrounded them now nothing more than dust on the ground. The paper was old, torn, and extremely faded, even with the lack of sunlight in the place. The color was all but gone from the paper, but you could still make out the words if you squinted hard enough. 

“Cooper Howard Starring in The Man From Dead Horse.” The letters matched up with the ones from outside but yet you were still baffled on what exactly a horse was. The poster had no other information to help clarify, although you found it interesting that the man on the paper supposedly shared your cowboy’s name. 

“Huh.” You exclaimed as you studied the pictures. 

“What?” Cooper called after you, pulling his attention only slightly away from the containers he was looting around the place, looking for spare ammo or anything else that was useful. 

“Nothing. Just something about these posters. Are these about those movies you were talking about?”  you asked, which had him turning around to examine the poster along with you. The only response he gave you was a short grunt, which you knew translated to a yes. You shifted your eyes back to the paper on the wall. Most of the color may have been gone but you could still make out a blue shirt on a man with a white cowboy hat on top of his head. He stood in a pose with his revolver in the air and his other hand on his hip. He wore a smirk on his face that felt familiar and something in the back of your mind itched like you had seen this all before…somewhere. But you couldn't pinpoint the memory. 

When you turned back around Cooper was already gone down the hallway so you hurried to follow him, tearing your eyes from the poster but keeping your mind on the nagging feeling it left you with. Maybe if you turned the picture over in your head enough times the memory you were looking for would click, or so you hoped. 

His attitude had significantly changed after you found that poster. He became more on edge and that gruff exterior he had when you had first met him was back. He rushed through the rest of the building, seemingly not caring if you were behind him or not. By the time you caught up with him, he was shoving his way back out through the swinging front doors. You could see the finger on his pistol’s trigger starting to twitch. You followed him outside and down the road a way until he stopped in front of the first billboard he saw. 

Like everything else in the wasteland, the colors were gone and the picture was faded, but you could clearly tell it had been an advertisement for Vault-Tec before the bombs. Cooper didn’t hesitate to unload every round in his revolver through the billboard. Pieces of wood and metal went flying and you instinctively covered your face, listening to the bullet casings and wood chips hit the concrete around you. He eventually ran out of bullets, although you could still hear him clicking the trigger. Once the gun sounded empty you lowered your arms again, examining the now hole-riddled Vault Boy on the billboard. Cooper’s face still held a nasty scowl. 

“You got a personal vendetta with Vault-Tec I don't know about or something? What just happened?” you asked. If you were anyone else he would have filled you with lead just for asking a question right then and there. He was currently too angry to deal with stupidity. But he would never purposefully hurt you, that was one line he refused to cross in his mind. But unknowingly to you your words only fueled his anger more. 

“Shut it. Let’s go. I’m sick of this place.” he snapped, his usual drawl and accent missing and replaced by venom in his words. He quickened his pace out of the block of streets and you followed him, but you kept your distance to a minimum of a few feet at least for the remainder of the trek. 

It had been a few hours since Cooper’s outburst and the two of you had set up camp for the night inside of an old diner. He had seemed to calm down a little but he had set himself up in the corner of a booth with his hat pulled down over his eyes and his feet kicked up on the table in front of him. Which left you alone with your thoughts in front of his makeshift campfire. You watched the sun sink below the horizon as you replayed the earlier events of the day over and over in your head, still trying to connect the dots. You stared at Cooper, his supposedly sleeping form leaning against the worn material of the diner booth, hoping that if you focused on him hard enough you could will the connection in your mind to click. 

And then the realization hit you like a lightning bolt, your eyes pulling all of the pieces together in front of you as you stared at his hat and the rough skin poking out from underneath it. 

You sprang up from your seat on the ground, sliding yourself into the booth on the other side of the table in front of him. He didn't seem to notice until you reached over and yanked his cowboy hat off of his head with one swift motion. His eyes shot open and immediately landed on you. 

“Can’t a ghoul get some shut-eye ‘round here without you botherin’ him?” he scoffed, pulling himself up into a sitting position and turning to face you across the table. You didn’t respond and instead placed his hat on the table in front of you, staring at him with full intent. He was unbothered underneath your intense gaze, either he was used to being stared at or knew you weren’t much of a threat to him. “I got somethin’ in my teeth or is this a new hobby of yours I don’ know about?” he asked, your silence was irking him more than your constant staring. 

You let your eyes do all the work and your imagination filled in the blanks, pulling both images in your head together; the man from the poster and the man sitting in front of you. His dirty blue shirt peaking out from underneath his duster confirmed your suspicion. 

“You’re him.” was all you said as the realization set in. 

“Pardon?”

“You're him! From the poster earlier! That's why he looked so familiar!” your excitement was getting hard to contain. You had known Cooper was from before the bombs but you hadn’t known he was THAT Cooper Howard. 

“Darlin’, I have no idea what you’re on about. You best forget ‘bout that whole theater ‘fore you go and stir up trouble.” he told you, folding his arms in front of him on the table as his brow darkened his eyes. 

“What’s the big deal, Coop? Why didn’t you tell me? Is that why you rushed out of there so quickly?” you spoke quickly, the questions flooding out of your mouth faster than you had intended. 

“Hmph. ‘What’s the big deal?’ The ‘big deal’ is that man is dead. Has been for over 200 years. I ain’t keen on bringin’ him back neither. His optimism and gullibility got him killed and that was the end of that. I’m done rememberin’ the sorry excuse I got for a past. Reminiscing don’ keep you alive for long.” his western accent was tangled together with poison as he spat out his words. But his scary looks didn’t work on you anymore. 

“Maybe, but you’re still him, Coop. You’ve adapted to the wasteland but you’re still you. Roughed up and scarred a little, sure, but who isn’t?” you told him, doing your best to keep your voice soft to combat his spitefulness. 

“A little? Sweetheart, I’m a damn monster, everyone out ‘ere thinks so. Whatever was left of good ol’ Cooper Howard died when this here skin started fallin’ off. I’m done bein’ nice in a world that does nothin’ but kicks you when you’re down.” 

“I don’t think you're a monster.” 

It was one sentence, just a few words, but it made him pause. His scowl vanished for a few seconds and was replaced by a look of confusion. There was a small smile tugging at his lips too, if you were quick enough to notice it before it was gone. He sighed and leaned back against the booth. 

“Well then that’s one hell of a lapse of judgment on your part sweetheart.” he hooked his hands together and put them behind his head, cradling the back of his neck as he closed his eyes again and leaned further into the booth. But you weren't done with the conversation just yet. 

You got up, grabbed his hat off of the table, and shifted yourself into the booth he was sitting in. You looked at him and then looked down at his hat in your hands. A relic from over two centuries ago, covered in sand and caked in dirt. But still a working and functioning cowboy hat. It protected its wearer from the harsh sun and there was a sense of safety woven somewhere in between the fibers. Broken and beaten and even dirtied beyond repair, it was still a hat. And Cooper was still a person. 

You climbed on top of the table, being careful not to accidentally kick him with your feet as you positioned yourself in front of him and placed a leg on either side of his body. You placed his hat in its rightful place on top of his head, making him open his eyes again when he felt your touch. He looked up at you curiously, fully not expecting you to be on the table in front of him. You reached down and grabbed both of the lapels of his duster, balling the fabric up in your fists as you pulled him forward and smashed your lips into his. You were quick with your movements, something you had learned from being around Cooper so much recently, which left little to no time for him to react or protest against your sudden affection. 

Although he didn't seem to mind. His hands found their way to your hips almost automatically and he slipped them under your shirt, grabbing at your soft skin roughly. Tomorrow morning you would have bruises all over your hips in the shape of his fingertips, but it happened so often now that the purples and blues were a permanent part of you. You had started this impromptu makeout session but he was determined to finish it. His tongue worked fervidly like he was mapping the constellations in the night sky across the inside of your mouth. He never once gave you the chance to take the lead and he was as quick as a viper to wrangle back control when you tried to take it yourself. At some point he had shifted his hands underneath you and scooped you off the table, sliding you right into his lap while still keeping a strong grip on you, never once slowing down with his tongue. Your legs were forced to wrap around him, your bodies now flush against each other in the booth. 

It wasn’t long after he had pulled you closer that you had to pull away, panting and taking gulps of air. You finally let go of his jacket as you leaned back against the table, feeling the metal edge digging into your back as you did so. 

“You know for a so-called ‘monster’ you sure know how to make someone feel breathless.” You told him as you admired the way he was smirking at you. Ironically it was the exact same smirk from that old poster of him, although you noticed he had shifted from that old-school charming look to now one that held an aura of danger around him. 

“Hm. Well, now I’ve never been the type to pass up an opportunity when it’s handed to me. ‘Specially if it ends with somethin’ pretty sittin’ in my lap.” his grip on your hips was still ironclad as his eyes raked over you. His stare felt similar to a hunter stalking its prey. You knew what he was doing, trying to convince himself he was right by acting like a predator, but you knew the truth underneath the facade. You had seen firsthand how he had cared for you and looked after you even when he stood to gain nothing in return. 

“Whether the old Cooper is dead or not doesn’t change the fact that I love this, right here, right now. Whatever led to you being my cowboy, I wouldn’t change a thing.” you ran your fingers up his chest as you spoke, fiddling your way underneath the collar of his cowboy costume to run your fingertips along the raised edges of his scarred skin. He sat back and let you touch him, not making any move to try and stop you. He’d let you do anything your little heart desired. He was your cowboy, he knew that, and yet two hundred years ago he would have never imagined meeting someone like you. He’d be damned if he would let anything happen to you, you were the only good thing he had left in this fucked up world. He refused to let anything else be taken from him. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he mumbled as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, relishing in the way the soft cartilage felt against his marred fingertips. He ran the very tip of his finger against the edge of your ear, earning a tilt of your head as a response to the sensation. 

“Cooper?” you asked, making his eyes flick to yours. He noticed you had pulled your hand out from under his shirt and instead, you had placed it on top of his chest, mindlessly fumbling with the ancient fringe attached to the front. 

“Hm?” 

“I still have one question,” you told him, knitting your brows together in curiosity. 

“I’m listenin’.” he had been so enraptured by your affection that he had no idea what to anticipate, especially when your face had turned so serious. 

“What even is a horse, anyway?”

It took him a great deal of effort to stifle his laughter. 

[kaysfanficcorner]

Celebrity Crush, Part 2

Summary: Dieter Bravo's new friend attends opening night of Dieter's play, and afterwards the two of them get more acquainted.

AO3

Author's Note:

I cannot believe it's been so long since I posted the first chapter of Celebrity Crush. Suffice to say, my life got completely turned upside down for awhile. I started a new job, and then shortly after we had a complete psycho living next door to us and had to vacate our home for safety. The last year has been so hard for a multitude of reasons, and although I didn't have the drive in me to do any writing, Celebrity Crush and Out of this World (my Mando series) have remained in the forefront of my mind. Both of these stories are so important to me. A few days ago it suddenly hit me that I was ready to sit behind a keyboard again.

So here we are, the second chapter of Celebrity Crush that should have been posted a over year ago. If you're new to this story, then welcome. If you read the first chapter and wondered why I never posted another, I sincerely hope you're back and you enjoy this one.

As I've said before, this story is really just a fun little fantasy experiment and I probably wont post chapters too frequently. And like most of us, I use my writing to work through personal shit using creativity. Some of it is drawing from reality and some of it is completely made up.

Honestly, I don't care for The Bubble over all. But I think Dieter is such an interesting character for being from a film that didn't have much substance. I feel the Dieter in the film is very different than the Dieter in my head, but what drew me to writing him this way was the thought "What is this man like when he's not riddled with drugs and Hollywood bullshit?" I hope you enjoy my version of Dieter just as much as I do.

 Warnings: Marijuana use. Mentions of depression and self hatred. Hints at suicidal thoughts and self harm. And, of course, sexual situations. Rated M/R/18+ as always.

*****

Against the odds you make it to the theater faster than anticipated, but all the while your nerves make the train ride seem to feel agonizingly slow. Every stop eats away at you. It’s crowded and you’re freezing. The thin lace of the shimmery black evening gown may look absolutely killer on you, but the elegant thing isn’t a very warm piece of clothing whatsoever. All you brought with you as far as outerwear goes is the black leather jacket on your back. The only carry on item a small black and gold purse slung across your chest filled with only the bare necessities.

 You feel borderline insane, still half convinced that everything you experienced earlier today was the result of falling and busting your head open on the Manhattan sidewalk. Surely you're laid up in some hospital bed with a bandage around your noggin, not on your way to spend an evening with your celebrity crush.

 Your thoughts are erratic. Images bouncing around in your head like the orange balls of an arcade basketball game. At first you try to listen to music to quiet the overstimulation, but that only serves to make you more antsy. So you go back to the podcast episode you’d been listening to earlier and the humor is enough to distract you for a little while. 

 Every now and then, though, you pull up the short text conversation with Dieter to re-read over (more like over-analyze) the messages. With a happy little smile playing at your lips, your fingers hover over the letters of the keyboard. You even type out a message or two before immediately deleting it on more than one occasion. The knot in your stomach feels like its getting tighter by the moment, but looking at the contact photo he'd left for you leaves a warmth in the center of that knot. His eyes are so kind, and the goofy little smile is so genuine. 

 Groaning to yourself after the fourth time you do this, you shove your phone back in the small handbag with a huff. You want to talk to him again but you're fully aware that he's busy with the show. Closing your eyes, you force yourself to focus on the host of your favorite podcast describing a scene from Poltergeist II. You can't help the girlish daydreaming that eventually creeps into your mind. You imagine that watching Fright Night at Dieter’s will go so well that he invites you back over to marathon the Poltergeist franchise next. Then you imagine making a regular thing of watching horror films with him, curled into his side on some big luxurious couch that you're sure he must own. His hand ghosting over the flesh of your neck as he drapes a long arm over your shoulder, the other hand feeding you popcorn now and again. The giddiest smile yet finds your lips, and an excited little giggle erupts from your throat. Out loud. 

 Once you remember you’re on the train your eyes snap open in fear. Sure enough, the hot, green haired punk woman across the aisle is smirking right at you as if she knows your worst secret and you flush with mild embarrassment. 

 Mercifully, somehow, your stop comes up only a few minutes later. You’re off the train and back on street in no time at all, the sun almost completely set and the full moon already hanging high over the city of New York. The littlest taste of dark purple left in the sky is enough to make your heart soar, and you're once again reminded that you live here. In this huge, scary, magical place. 

 With the help of your trusty GPS you manage find the correct theater in under five minutes. It’s incredibly obvious as you round a corner and your sight is immediately struck with huge lamppost advertisements of Dieter and other actors dressed in Shakespearean garb. You’re not sure how to feel, gooseflesh making it’s way up your arms and back as you stand under the glowing marquee displaying his name in huge red letters. Checking your watch you find that you're actually somewhat early, so there’s plenty of time to get your ticket. Enough time to grab a drink from the bar on your way to your seat, even. Some of the anxiety subsides as you pop another half of a gummy on your way inside, telling yourself that whatever happens next you’re just along on for the ride.  

 The theater lobby is gorgeous, and it's filled with gorgeous people of every variety. You've been to a Broadway show before, but a matinee of a family friendly musical is a far cry from opening night of a huge production. There are a few minor celebrities you recognize and you're sure a good bit of the crowd is press, or at the very least some sort of influencer. A few of them even seem to be live streaming. 

 When you approach the box office you slide your ID under the thin gap in the glass, saying your full name to the white haired attendant dressed like a bellhop without the hat. For a split second fear creeps into your belly that all of this really is in your head and the woman is about to tell you there’s no such reservation. But then you’re being handed a thin envelope and she’s telling you to enjoy the show. You look down at the off white paper in your hands, very clearly reading the word “weirdo” scribbled in semi-legible masculine-looking handwriting. A new warmth spreads through you in that moment, and suddenly you’re no longer questioning the reality of where you are or why.

   Once you check your jacket at the coat check you’re glad that you found the right dress for such an event. Everyone around you seems very well dressed and well-to-do. In anything else you’d feel so out of place, but in the knockout frock of 2018? You fit in nicely. Henry will most assuredly have to be thanked at a later juncture. 

 With a gin and tonic in one hand and a ticket in the other, you’re directed to a seat down in the front row but slightly off to the left. Of course he got you front row. How? Who knows and frankly who cares. This is a once in a lifetime kind of day and you intend to enjoy it. 

 Lights begin to dim shortly after you take your seat, and shortly after that music begins flowing out from the pit orchestra only a few yards away from where you sit. The sound of it reverberates through every single one of your molecules. The great red curtain begins to lift, and suddenly you’re transported into the realm of William Shakespeare. Admittedly never a subject you’ve felt very passionate about, but being here in this place and under these circumstances it suddenly seems quite magical. 

 Dieter makes his way onto the stage after a short opening scene, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him. This is not the man you met on the street and had coffee with earlier that afternoon. No, this is a different man entirely. His handsome face may be the same, but he’s completely become the character he’s playing. Truly acting, you think to yourself with mystified splendor. Watching him move about the stage with such ease brings the biggest grin to your face. Hearing him delivering lines that you would have stumbled over as if they are his original thoughts is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced while watching a live play. He’s so fucking mesmerizing and so fucking talented and you ache for him so fucking bad in this moment. 

 This is the closest you've ever been to the stage at a show like this, and you realize towards the end of the first act just how much the distance makes a difference. Sure, you can still appreciate a performance from the nosebleeds, but down here in the front row? You can see everything. Every crinkle of the nose, every eyeroll, every movement of the brow. The performance feels so intimate in the front row. You finally understand why people consider it to be worth the cost.

 The scene changes to night. Dieter's character is alone on stage, a spotlight following his movements as he confidently strides across. He's making his way over to your side, the closer he gets the more you feel your stomach flip flop inside you. His movements seem both deliberate and natural at the same time, and he begins to deliver a monologue in a soft voice. His eyes suddenly flick out towards you. For a delusional moment it feels as if he's acting to you and you alone, like you're the only audience he has before him and he's putting everything he has into the words flowing from his mouth. Suddenly his voice falters, followed by a long pause. He's still looking in your direction, but then his eyes slip closed and worry that he stumbled over the line floods your system. 

 Dieter continues to surprise you, though, by lunging into the rest of the monologue with such raw emotion and ferocity. He quickly moves across stage again, giving that side of the audience a taste of it as well. You realize then that all of that had been part of the performance. Watching the emotions he's tapped into radiate from his very being strikes you with such emotion of your own. Hot tears well in you eyes, falling slowly down your cheeks as you steady your breathing to keep control of yourself. Dabbing at your eyes with a napkin, your chest swells for your celebrity crush. 

 As Dieter finishes, he exits the stage and the curtain begins to drop for intermission. The crowd claps uproariously, yourself among some of the loudest and most enthusiastic.  

 After such a poignant moment in the show, you definitely feel like you could use to get another drink. You get up to leave just as an attendant stops you at the end of the aisle. The man asks if you are who you are, to which you respond in the affirmative, and then you’re being led out of the auditorium to a restricted area. There you are brought to a green door marked as “Dressing Room 1”, where the attendant raps on the thing three times before taking three strides back.

   Door flying open, a disheveled Dieter is revealed to you on the other side. He looks frantic, almost pained. You’re shocked to see him like this after such a rousing performance in the first half of the play. Grabbing your wrist, he thanks the attendant and informs him that this will only take a few moments before yanking you into the small dressing room.

 “What’s going on?” You ask, wide-eyed and confused. 

 Dieter looks you up and down, biting his pouty lower lip while running a hand through his beautiful brown hair. The he seems to remember that he’s not supposed to fuck up the hair, cursing under his breath while moving over to the mirror to fix it. He’s got on heavy stage make up, the eyeliner making him look like a mix between a rock star and a pirate. The dressing room itself looks like every single one you’ve ever seen in a movie. Costumes, make up, and wigs strewn about. Big white lightbulbs lining the large mirror over the vanity. Its surreal to say the least.

 “I need your help, if that’s okay,” Dieter says as he turns to you again. “I don’t have a lot of time so this needs to be quick.” 

 You’re still frozen in place, slightly dumbfounded. “Help with what? You’re doing really great out there, by the way. Amazing, actually.” 

 “Thanks. Listen, I caught a glimpse of you towards the end of the first act and I’ve been distracted ever since. You look so fucking gorgeous in that dress, muñequita. But I can’t be fucking distracted while I work.” As he says this, he’s taking steps towards you with a very serious expression. Closing the short distance until he’s practically right up against you. 

 Looking up into his deep chocolate eyes, which are fixated on your mouth, you part you lips and ask him, “How can I help?” 

 Then his hands fly to your face, and he’s pulling you into him for a kiss. His soft, plump lips find yours eagerly and you respond by melting into his touch. Your hands find his waist, grabbing on either side to steady yourself against the neediness of the kiss while trying not to upset the placement of his costume. The slickness of his tongue entering your mouth causes you to moan, opening wider to allow him better entry. He tastes so fucking good, like honey from the cup of tea he probably had earlier for his voice. His facial hair feels somehow both scratchy and soft against your skin. 

 And then he’s pulling apart from you, panting slightly as his wild eyes scan your face and his hands drop down to his sides. “Shit, I didn't really ask for permission to touch you like that. M’sorry,” he mumbles, clearly worried that a line has been irrevocably crossed. 

 You chuckle, glad to know his moral sense is sound. “I would have said yes, if it makes you feel any better. Thanks for caring about not being a dick, though.” 

 He looks shy, “I like you. Don’t want to get off on the wrong foot immediately.” 

 You heart rate speeds up when he says that he likes you. “Sorry I’m so distracting,” you offer lamely. 

 “Don’t be, muñequita.” He places another chaste kiss upon your lips before spinning you around and urging you towards the door. You let him guide you with ease. “We’ll continue this later, but I’ve got to get ready. Thank you for indulging me.” 

 “You’re welcome,” you say, grinning over your shoulder at him. “To be continued.” 

 “Si, mi hermosa.” 

 With that, you’re out in the hallway once more as the door closes behind you. You lean back against it with your head tilted up at the ceiling and your eyes closed, replaying the kiss you just shared with your celebrity crush. Once again everything feels both completely unreal and entirely tangible at the same time. A giddy grin spreads across your face as you giggle to yourself, fingers lightly grazing your still tingling lips. And then the sound of someone clearing their throat pulls you back to reality. 

 The attendant is still there, having waited to escort you back to your seat. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow for a moment before he turns on his heel to begin walking back to the auditorium. Fucking really? Again? Oh well, you think with another giggle as you follow him.

 Pulling out your phone, you send a quick update to Henry in the form of a single lipstick stain emoji and five exclamation points. You receive a colorful response almost immediately, making you snort a little as you type out, “I am not a skank! ...not yet at least,” in response. 

 The rest of the show goes off without a hitch. Dieter’s performance in the final scene brings tears to your eyes once again. It has nothing to do with the attraction you feel towards him. You’re completely in awe of him on a professional level. Regardless of the messy reputation he’s been trying to move away from, at the end of the day Dieter Bravo is still a really great actor. Phenomenal, even.

 After the standing ovation and the curtain call, during which Dieter winks down at you just as he lifts up from bowing and your heart skips a beat, everyone in the auditorium starts to vacate. Some people outright leave, others go to the bar for one more drink to mingle and discuss the show. Dieter had told you to stay put, and you never did get that second gin and tonic during intermission so you make your way through the crowds on a quest for your favorite drink. 

 Once at the lavish bar with your order placed, you lean against the elegant mahogany and truly take in your surroundings. It feels odd to be in a beautiful room full of well dressed strangers as they argue the finer points of William Shakespeare’s works. You over hear a couple of people praising Dieter, one person saying that he was “just fine, nothing spectacular”, and you find the concept of difference of opinion very interesting as you quietly hone in your eavesdropping skills. 

 Just as the bar tender is sliding your drink over, the small crowd of people begin clapping and cheering. You look up to see Dieter and some of the other actors from the show enter the bar, dressed in normal clothes once again. Even though he’s forced to smile and shake hands with a few random people along the way, he seems to notice you almost immediately. A wicked grin crosses his features as he tries his best to make a beeline for you. 

 “So you’re a gin and tonic girl?” Dieter asks as he finally approaches the bar, and you’re aware of many eyes on you.

 “Uh huh,” you nod, talking through a plastered on smile, “I feel so fucking awkward right now with these people looking at me wondering why you’re talking to me.” 

 “Fuck these people,” whispering, he grins again almost devilishly, “so are you coming back to my place?” 

 You nod again, “Yes, please. If you'll still have me.” 

 “Fantastic,” he leans over the bar to whisper even lower, careful not to get too close with prying eyes all around. He orders a drink, just a seltzer with lime oddly enough, making it look like he’s idly chatting with you as he waits. “Here’s the plan: I have to mingle for a minute and sign a few autographs, but then I can make my escape. Drink your drink and wait about fifteen minutes, then leave out the front and go two blocks to the left then one to the right. There's a news stand on that corner. Wait for me there.” 

 “Copy that,” you agree, grinning as you take a sip. “Bravo by the way, Bravo. The play was great. You were great. I mean it.”

 “Thanks, muñequita.” He chuckles, smiling almost bashfully. The smile accentuates all of the best things about his features, leaving him looking like a work of art. It’s insane that a man a almost twenty years older than you is so youthful to you. Youthful and so very beautiful. The concept shouldn’t work yet somehow it does. He’s so pretty. And by some stroke of fate he's interested in you. 

 So you execute this plan, waiting the agreed upon fifteen minutes as he fucks off to go mingle. You make quick work of running for one last trip to the bathroom, collecting your jacket, and leaving the theater all together. Stepping out into the chilly night, you walk two blocks to the left and one to the right just as he instructed. The news stand is there just as he said, but it's locked up for the night. It’s cold as hell and you really wish that you’d thought better of it when you left Queens. Holding yourself, you bounce from foot to foot trying to stay warm as you watch your breath form in front of your face. It’s only autumn and you’re from a few states further south, so you hadn’t considered how chilly the night would be. 

 “Hey, weirdo,” a voice appears from behind you after a long while. You turn to see Dieter standing there, a shy little smile playing at his lips and his hands shoved in his pockets. He’s wearing the black pea coat you’d seen him in earlier that afternoon, but the sunglasses have been replaced with a gray scarf and hat that he did not have before. 

 “Hey, crush,” you respond, attempting to grin at him through lightly chattering teeth. 

 He frowns, “Is that all you have to wear?”

 “Yeah,” you pout, “I didn’t think this through. I was too worried about looking cute.” 

 “Well you succeeded, but you’ve got to dress warmer than that in this town.” He shakes his head, chuckling as he slowly unravels the dark gray scarf from himself. Stepping forward, he delicately drapes the warm thing around your neck, wrapping it around a few times so that you can bury the lower half of your face in its warmth if you feel the need to. You nearly moan as you inhale the scent of it, the scent of him. It’s intoxicating, carrying notes of tobacco, weed, and expensive cologne. You could breathe this in forever and never need real oxygen ever again. 

 “Your scarf smells really fucking good,” you mumble into the fabric, taking an obvious sniff. That second gin and tonic must have lowered your inhibitions slightly. 

 “You look really fucking cute in my scarf,” he says, pulling his coat together at the neck to try and shield himself from the fresh blasts of cold in that particular area. “What do you say we go watch that movie?”

   “Let’s go,” agreeing, you nod forward as if to tell Dieter you want him to lead the way. He surprises you by extending an elbow so that you can grab hold of his arm while you walk beside each other. “How far is your place?” 

  *****

 Dieter loves the feeling of your arm sliding into his, pulling you in close as he begins walking towards the apartment. Your hand grazes his for a moment, and when he feels how cold your flesh is to the touch he shakes his head with a chuckle. Working his fingers into yours, Dieter takes your hand in his before shoving both into the large pocket of his coat. Even though it’s cold to the point of being uncomfortable, he relishes in the feeling of your smaller hand in his. 

 “Not too far. Rented close to the theater so I could just walk to work.”

  You snuggle into him after a little gust of wind causes you to shiver, burying your face into his scarf. Dieter is beside himself as you inhale deeply once again, looking up at him with a little grin. “Fuck, this thing smells so damn good. You smell so good.” 

 He's sure he's blushing from that.

 Soon enough he’s guiding you into the entrance of the swanky apartment building lobby, explaining to the doorman that you’re his guest on the way towards the elevator. Once in the elevator, he hits the button for his floor and watches as you adjust to the warmth of the building’s heating system. You shake your arms out, leaning back against the hand rail. 

 “I can’t believe I didn’t think to wear a better coat," you say.

 “You may have suffered, but you do look fucking incredible in that outfit.” Dieter smirks down at you, one hand on the mirrored wall you’re pressed against as he looms over. He enjoys the way you squirm under his gaze. “Tell me, muñequita, did you get all dressed up like this to impress me? Did your hair and make up all nice even though we both know you don’t need any of that fucking shit?” 

 You blush, avoiding his gaze for a moment before meeting his eyes again. He’s already leaning forward and you’re already lifting up to meet him halfway. “I might have,” you say lowly with a little smirk playing at your lips. “Maybe I like getting dressed up, and maybe I wanted to make sure that you knew I wasn’t fucking around with my intentions here.”

   Just as his lips are about to make contact with yours, the elevator stops and the door opens. His head jerks up just in time to see a neighbor standing there waiting for their turn in the metal contraption. Clearing his throat, Dieter gestures for you to exit the elevator with him and the two of you awkwardly shuffle past the stranger. You’re stifling giggles and he lightly slaps you on the ass, no more than a tap really, as he chuckles. 

 Dieter’s apartment is right down the hall to the left. Unlocking the door, he allows you entry first and steps in behind you as he repositions the bolt to locked once more while also locking the chain. When he turns you’re standing there in the foyer a literal fucking vision, looking up at him with big doe eyes. He can tell that you’re a little nervous now that you’re actually in his home, but the awkwardness only serves to enhance how adorable you are to him. Dressed up in a sexy fucking black dress but with an almost timid energy is such a wild contrast. 

 “So, I want to take a shower before we settle in for the movie,” he says, “you’re welcome to borrow a sweater if you want something warm to change into.” 

 “I appreciate that. I could use to get cozy.” 

 Your cheeks flush, and he resists the urge to kiss you once more. Not yet. Earlier had been way too impulsive, like the old Dieter, and he wants the next time he kisses you to feel perfect. He likes you a lot. It makes him want to do right by you in a way that he's never been compelled to in the past. Not even with Anika, who he thought he loved a great deal at the time. 

 Dieter takes you through the decently sized apartment, noticing fondly how you’re slowly taking in your surroundings as he does so. He enters the bedroom, gesturing to the king sized bed with dark trimmings as he moves over to the huge closet and flings it open. Rifling through the selection, he plucks out a heavy eggplant purple sweater. Then he moves over to a dresser, where he pulls out a pair of black boxer briefs. 

 He looks you up and down, savoring every inch of your body in the black dress one more time before he offers you the warmer clothes. “Here, you can change into this if you want to. Feel free to make yourself comfortable while I’m getting cleaned up. I won’t be very long.”

 

*****

 You watch as he lays the clothing down on the bed before moving for the attached bathroom. He shuts himself in with a little smirk on his face and you can hear the water begin to run, followed by the pleasant sound of Dieter humming to himself. The sound of it brings a smirk of your own to your lips.

 Pulling out your phone, you quickly inform Henry that you’re at Dieter’s and you’re safe. Then you shrug off the leather jacket, sitting on the edge of the bed to undo your combat boots and kick them off. Standing while simultaneously unzipping yourself, you begin stripping down to your underwear. The nature of the gown’s neckline made it so that you’d foregone a bra tonight, so for a brief moment you’re standing in Dieter Bravo’s bedroom in nothing but socks, a pair of panties, and jewelry. 

 After admiring yourself in the large full-length mirror next to the closet, you move to grab his big purple sweater. The soft knitted garment slides over your head with ease, falling to just below your hips. You take the pair of boxer briefs, slipping them on like a pair of bike shorts. Your plump ass is almost too big to fit his size and you’re thinking endlessly about the fact that his dick was once nestled in this very fabric, but you manage to make it work. 

  Looking around the room, you try to get a vibe for what Dieter’s private life must look like. You’re happy to see that he’s still painting, having noticed a messy room full of canvases next to this mostly tidy bedroom. He’s got a living room and kitchen, obviously. It’s definitely bigger and far more modern than the apartment you share with Henry in Queens, but its not as extravagant as you’d expected it to be. He’s got a few things on the walls of the sleekly styled bedroom. Various dark atheistic art pieces, a vintage movie poster for some Italian horror film you’ve heard of but never seen, and a few framed Queens of The Stone Age vinyl's. He’d told you in the coffee shop that they’re his favorite band, and he wasn’t kidding. Not only is his tase in film similar to yours, his taste in music seems to be as well. 

 When your eyes land on the golden statue situated on a nearby shelf, said eyes nearly fall right out of your head. It's a shape you know well. An academy award, an Oscar. There are a few other awards on the same shelf. A Golden Globe, a few Emmys, and some you don't recognize. But the Oscar? Holy. Shit. That one is special for a multitude of reasons. You remember the night that Dieter won that Oscar so fondly, given that you and your parents would sit down to watch the award ceremony live every single year. Once you were old enough to appreciate film the way that you do now, the three of you would try and see every singe film that was nominated. That way, when the big night finally came, you could have your opinions and make your guesses with the confidence of someone who had seen the films. You used to look at your parents with complete confidence and tell them you plan to be there one day. That one way or another they'd go to watch and see you on the red carpet. Hopefully a dream that can still be achieved.

 You'd been in high school when Dieter won his. The crush you have on him was already in full swing at this point. You'd begged your parents to go see his film opening weekend, and when the news of his best actor nomination came out you were over the moon for him. After having watched his career evolve from b-movie horror flicks to big studio films, you told your mother and father that he deserved it more than anyone. Your father had knowingly told you that maybe your little crush was clouding your judgment, so of course you'd rubbed it in his face when Dieter won.

 Smiling to yourself, you can recall the way your stomach flipped and your heart swelled at the sight of him on the red carpet. He'd been dressed to the nines, with perfect skin and perfect hair. The biggest take away you have always kept with you from that night was how utterly grateful Dieter Bravo seemed to be there. Like he didn't quite believe that he deserved the recognition at all. It was bashful in a way that feels akin to how bashful he's been acting around you all night. The same kind of energy. 

 Thinking of the shock on a younger Dieter's face when the presenter opened the envelope and read his name to the audience, and the tears in his eyes as he climbed the stairs to the stage to make his acceptance speech, you're reminded of the fact that this must have been one of the biggest moments in his life. You'd watched him hold his Oscar with such fondness that night, and now that exact same statue is not three feet from your face. Involuntary movements cause your arm to reach out, and two of your fingers lightly caress the smooth surface. You desperately want to know how heavy it feels in your hands, but you don't dare try to remove it from its perch. God forbid you break the damn thing.

 Dieter told you to get comfortable so you move to climb onto the bed, laying on your stomach at the foot of it. It’s so fucking luxurious that you nearly moan, pressing yourself into the pleasant material. A laugh bubbles up your throat as you realize that your parents are going to lose their minds when they eventually find out about this evening. Given that they had to hear Dieter's name dozens of times when you were a teenager, this is going to come as a wild shock. 

 Soon the shower cuts off and you hear him rummaging around in there. Then the door opens and Dieter reappears wearing an olive green bathrobe. His sopping wet hair looks two shades darker, falling around his head in a way that makes him look so adorable as he smiles over at you. His naturally tan skin is slightly reddish, indicating that the water of his shower had been hot. 

 “Mm,” he hums, “wearing my clothes in and lying my bed is a good look for you, muñequita. Better than that dress, even.” 

 You smile up at him, rolling onto your back as you stretch out. The littlest bit of tummy peaks out when the sweater rides up, and Dieter’s facial expression changes for the briefest of moments as he blatantly stares at the area of exposed flesh. You wonder if he’s going to try and make a move while he’s already mostly naked, but he quietly grabs himself a T-shirt and sweatpants before heading back into the bathroom without saying a word. You can’t decide if you’re disappointed or not. When he comes out again fully dressed, smelling of tea tree oil and hair fixed slightly with product, you sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed to stand next to him. 

 Bashfully gesturing for you to follow, he takes you out to the living room where a large couch and even larger TV are waiting to be used for their intended purpose. “Grab a blanket from that basket and make yourself at home,” he says in a friendly manner, moving to a bookshelf imbedded into the wall itself. There he plucks a horizontally placed book-the only one like this-off the second shelf down from the top. Coming to sit beside where you’re doing exactly what you’d been told, he sets the book down on the coffee table before grabbing the remotes to get the TV set up.

   You lean forward, peering at the book for not even a millisecond before you realize that it looks like a beat up copy of Stephen King’s IT in hardcover. But its clearly not a real book. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be a wooden box made to look like a book. 

 “What’s with IT?” You ask, left eye brow raised as you point to it. 

 “That’s one of my favorite books, scared the shit out of me as a young man,” he explains enthusiastically. “I take it the weirdo is a fan?”

   “Oh hell yeah,” you’re also full of enthusiasm, similar to when you gushed about Fright Night to him at the coffee shop. “It’s indisputably King’s masterpiece! I’ve read it three times. But I meant what’s up with the fake copy.” 

 Dieter smirks at you, leaning forward to flick the thing open with an index finger. “This, muñequita, is my stash box. I’ve had this thing since college. It’s been with me through all kinds of crazy shit in my dumb life.” 

 Inside is a small row of four perfectly rolled joints all lined up together with a lighter and a small ashtray. You look down at the nice little set up, realizing that the act of smoking must be somewhat of a ritual for Dieter Bravo. Much like how you view your own use of weed in your daily life. It’s endearing to see that the two of you relate in that way. You’re also relieved to see that there isn’t anything harder than marijuana in the box. 

 “Love the set up,” you bump your shoulder into his, “and I love that you’re a weed guy. I never make any friends with the same sensibilities when it comes to smoking.” 

 Dieter’s face contorts for a second, morphing into something akin to uncomfortable. “Well, it’s the one vice I really allow myself these days besides cigarettes. Don’t really even drink much anymore. Before my last stint in rehab, I nearly died. Again. And then I lost everything. Got dropped by my old agent, then Anika left me. Ended up getting passed over for a role I felt really passionate about and the actor who did get the gig is probably going to be up for an Oscar this year. Some family stopped taking my calls. I didn’t know what real rock bottom felt like until all that shit happened. What a fucking wake up call. That was a little over a year ago. If it wasn’t for my sister helping me out I’d probably be dead right now.”

   You’d read a headline last year about how Dieter was in rehab again, but you had no idea how bad things had actually been for him. Reaching a hand out, you tentatively stroke the inside of his wrist with a few fingertips. “Fuck, Dieter. I’m sorry that happened to you.” 

 “Please don’t be. I did it to myself. I let the pressure of Hollywood kill the little kid in me who just wanted to make movies like the ones I would go see with my family in the 80s. I’ve always had an addictive personality, and once you become famous it’s incredibly easy to get the worst kinds of drugs and fuck the worst kinds of people and do the dumbest kind of shit. That’s why I’m back in New York for the foreseeable future. I needed a break from LA and all the bullshit that comes with it.” 

 “Do you worry that smoking is going to make you relapse, though?” You ask, hoping you don’t sound judgmental. He’s opening up to you a lot, and you’d rather not scare him off. “Also I’m sorry for speaking so fondly of doing mushrooms at the coffee shop earlier today and for drinking at the show, if that was triggering at all.” 

 “Nah. I barely smoked weed like this before now. My thing was always coke and LSD and anything else like that I could get my hands on. Hard shit. Chemical shit. My doctor actually prescribed a medical card because smoking helps chill me out and relax when I feel like the pressure is getting too strong again and a real craving is starting to hit me. And no worries about the mushrooms or the drinks. I’ll never touch that chemically altered shit ever again, but if it grows from the Earth it’s alright by me. I’m also in therapy, so that’s helping a lot. I feel like I got a second lease on life, and I’m trying really hard not to fuck things up this time.” 

 “That’s really admirable, Dieter. Everyone makes mistakes but not everyone has the will power to grow from them.” 

 He chuckles humorlessly, “Yeah. I still hate myself most of the time, though.” 

 “I can relate to that. I used to have a real problem with self hatred. Mine just manifested in a different way.”

 He’s being vulnerable with you, almost a silent permission for you to be vulnerable as well, so you slide up the oversized sleeve of his sweater to show him your left forearm. The colorful, horror themed tattoo that sprawls across your flesh does a good job of covering up what’s underneath at first glance, but if someone is really looking the raised scars beneath the ink are clearly there. 

 Dieter looks down at it for a long moment before his gaze lifts back up to meet your eyes. He reaches out, hovering fingers just above your skin as he silently waits for you to allow this. You nod, swallowing, and the tips of his index and middle fingers graze lightly over the surface of scar tissue. His touch leaves a tingling sensation in it’s wake. He frowns then, looking into your eyes once more as his hand lightly encircles your wrist. “I don’t like that you used to hurt yourself.” 

 You reach out, brushing a damp curl from his forehead as you look his face over with a frown of your own. “And I don’t like that you used hurt yourself. Seems like we’ve both dealt with a lot of pain in our lives.”

   “Seems like it,” he agrees as a self conscious expression crosses his features. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to get so serious on you. You’re just so easy to talk to and I don’t have a lot of friends. Genuine ones, anyway.”

 Smiling, you take his hand and squeeze it once before letting it drop. “It’s okay, really. I’m glad that you feel comfortable being honest with me.” 

 Dieter leans towards the coffee table, grabbing a joint from the box and placing it between his lips before moving to light it with the red bic lighter. He eyes you with a cheekily grin, waggling his eyebrows about. “You wanna split this?” 

 “Hell yes,” you agree, grinning as he hands the burning thing over to you. 

 As you smoke together, Dieter gets everything set up to watch Fright Night while the two of you continue to converse.

 “So what was Dieter Bravo like as a young man?” You ask suddenly, eyeing him with a playfully narrowed gaze as you take your two puffs. 

His eyes widen comically. “What do you mean?” 

 “Like, what was your style? What music were you into, what high school click were you a part of?” 

 “The nerds and the goths and the punks and the theater kids,” Dieter replies immediately, smiling fondly at you. “That character you had such as crush on as a pre-teen? That was pretty much me. I had the jet black hair, the piercings, the black trench coat. My favorite Depeche Mode and The Cure tapes were worn out in my first car. I thought I was a badass motherfucker, going to play practice to rehearse Guys and Dolls dressed like fucking early 90s Dracula.” 

 You gush, “I adore Dracula so you get points from me. Man, I wish I could have seen you in your young goth days. I bet it was adorable. Also, you were in Guys and Dolls? So was I, in middle school! But I had a super small background role. I was basically just in the chorus.” 

 He seems shocked by this, “What? How the hell weren’t you the lead?” 

 “I froze up in my audition just like I always did. I have no idea how you people can act. It’s so nerve wracking. I much prefer the storytelling aspect of the business.” 

 “Really? You think so? It's always been so natural for me.” 

 “Oh one hundred percent. I had one good experience in drama class with a monologue that I nailed and that was about it. You, on the other hand, you make it seem like the easiest thing in the world. God, watching you tonight was magical. I truly believed that you were another person up there. What is it you love about acting that makes it seem like a no brainer?” 

 He seems to mull this over for a moment, “That’s just it. I get to be someone else for a little bit. I’ve never liked myself very much so getting to be another person is so appealing to me. Why I always liked wearing costumes on Halloween. I forget that I’m Dieter and I become whoever it is I’m playing while the camera is rolling or its my queue to be on stage. I don’t worry about what the people watching me are thinking or feeling, because I’m temporarily living the life of another person who’s somewhere else doing something spectacular and those people spectating don’t even exist.”

   “Wow, that answer was kind of incredible.” 

 He shrugs, looking shy again. “Just answering from the heart. That’s not what I would have said in an interview.” 

 You reach over and stroke his hand. “Well, thanks for talking to me like a real person.” 

 He pulls your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles once. “Thanks for treating me like a real person.” 

 After the joint is finished Dieter begins the movie. You honestly expect it to last all of twenty minutes, assuming (and hoping) that Dieter will eventually make a move that leads to the two of you making out and missing most of the film. He surprises you yet again, when he shows no interest in carrying on during the viewing. At one point, about a half hour in, Dieter tells you that you’re too far away and motions for you to come lean your body against him. You do, heart racing, and he drapes an arm around your shoulders. But that’s all he ever does. 

 Dieter Bravo is dead set on watching the movie he invited you over to watch. You aren’t disappointed, though. In fact, you’re thrilled that the movie hadn’t been a tactic to fuck you after all. He genuinely wanted to watch it and he genuinely wanted you to be a part of the experience. It endears him to you that much more. 

 When the nightclub sequence happens, your favorite part of the film, Dieter dances a little with you while seated. You laugh heartily when he says, “This is way hornier than I remember it being.” But he still doesn't make a move.

 After the film’s conclusion, Dieter lights up another jay and checks the time. It’s late. “Would you like to sleep over?” He asks shyly, handing the joint over. 

 Taking a long drag, you nod your head before speaking through a small cloud with a sleepy little grin. “I’d love to sleep over, Dieter.” 

 The actor takes a long drag himself, grinning as he seems pleased with this. “You don’t have to sleep in the bed with me if you don’t want to, but you’re more than welcome to join me. Or you can have it and I can just fuck off here on the couch. I want you to feel comfortable here.” 

 “I’m comfortable here,” you smile warmly, amused by him. He looks so cute when he’s high like this, red eyes squinting as an almost gentle timidness takes over. “Are you trying to act like a gentleman, Dieter?” 

 “Kinda,” he agrees, eyebrows raising a little as he puffs on the joint twice more. “Part of me wants to be gentlemanly, and part of me wants to be honest and say I really want you in bed with me. That I want take you into that bedroom and show you what you fucking do to me.” 

 “I mean, I honestly wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

*****

 And that’s how you find yourself positioned head down and ass up, hands tied behind your back with a designer neck tie from Dieter’s closet as the man himself fucks you relentlessly from behind. His cock, thick and lovely and torturous, sliding into you unprotected with such force and rhythm that your once tandem movements with his are now erratic and messy. You sound like a wild animal, feral noises escaping you as he presses his thumb against your exposed clit with the lightest amount of pressure.

  “Come on, sweetheart," he coos, "I know you can get wetter than this for me.” Then he increases the pressure, and you start to moan deeply against the mattress to this sensation you adore so much. The most private of feelings in the most private of places, a pleasure you've only experienced with a handful of individuals. Somehow, someway, here you are experiencing it with the man you’ve crushed on for nearly two decades of your life. 

 Your legs begin to tremble as the pleasure budding in your core begins to fire up rapidly. “Oh fuck, D. Feels so fucking good when you touch me there.” You can’t see him (you can’t open your eyes is more like it) but you know he’s grinning down at you like a wild man. He’s sweating, and you imagine that his lovely hair is growing damper by the moment. 

 “Mm, dirty fucking girl likes her perfect little clit being played with? How’s it feel to have your celebrity crush touch you like this? Fucking that perfect little pussy at the same time? I bet this doesn't even feel real, does it?” 

 “So-gah-so fucking good,” you repeat the previous phrase, practically purring, and Dieter spanks you once. The right cheek to be exact. You cry out into the sheets bunched up in front of your face, wrists straining against the silky bonds behind your back. Your shoulders and neck are starting to give in a little but you’re also not ready to ask him to stop. This is heaven in every sense of the word.

 “Oh, come on. You’re a smart fucking girl, I know you have better vocabulary in that pretty fucking head of yours. Nerdy fucking girl’s read IT three times, after all.” He spanks you again, the left cheek this time. You squeal, feeling the sting and loving every bit of it’s sharp sensation through your backside. 

 “My nerve endings are on fire,” you start, panting and grunting between words, “it feels like those Fourth of July sparklers are gently burning my skin all over. You now, the ones on long metal sticks that you wave around? Little prickles of heat are assaulting my senses all at once. I can't believe I'm here with you and you're making me feel this good. Fuck, I’m so close to cumming, Dieter, please.” 

 Dieter pumps into you even harder, slamming into your cervix and causing you to squeal from the combined pain and pleasure of it. Never once does it occur to you to ask him to stop as you whine and writhe with a huge, open mouthed smile plastered to your otherwise contorted face. Dieter begins to coo and soothe you, slowing his thrusts down slightly while removing his thumb. “Good girl. I knew you had something more eloquent to say. Oh, fuck, I can’t last much longer, muñequita.” 

 “I want to taste it,” your salacious voice pleads, bound hands reaching back for him. 

 “Fuck. Careful with what you say, you sound so fucking sexy and I can’t take it.” He pulls out of you then, gently guiding your body to lay on your side. Even though he’s been rough with you (at your request), you can tell he’s still displaying a level of responsibility as the one sort of in charge.

   “Give it, D, please,” you plead more, mouth dropping open and tongue poking out expectantly when he turns his attention to you once more. 

 “Dirty fucking girl,” he hisses, his hips bucking as you suckle the tip of his length with a prominent swirl of the tongue. Eventually he’s grabbing your hair with a vulnerable sounding moan, pushing into your mouth as far as he can go while emptying himself down your throat. You eagerly take every bit, adoring how his body relaxes so completely against you. For a moment it seems as if Dieter is trying to savor the feeling of your lips wrapped around him, but then suddenly he’s pulling out and your hands are being untied. “Your turn, mi hermosa muñequita,” he growls, flipping you onto your back as he lays across the bed, positioning his head between your parted thighs. 

 And so you writhe and squirm and shake, mouth spewing wickedly dirty things as Dieter’s expert tongue works you over. Every touch, every whisper of breath against your flesh is both electrified and amplified. Feeling his mustache tickle your swollen nub, the vibrations of his chuckles when he knowingly backs off at the cusp of your orgasm and you groan in frustration at him. It’s torture in the best possible sense of the word, leaving you feeling like you’re willing to do just about anything in order to spend the rest of your life fucking Dieter Bravo and letting him fuck you. 

 After awhile he adds a few fingers, filling you up to simultaneously stimulate the internal nerve endings that were feeling neglected within your warmth. The addition of these sensations is enough to finally send you over the edge and this time he allows it to happen, gripping onto your trembling legs as he bares down on your clit with repetitive swirls. Sparks begin to build within your core, soon cresting over the edge as pure hormonal pleasure takes hold of your body in an intense orgasm. 

 Coming down from the natural high of sex, you’re aware of Dieter climbing to the top of the bed so that he can lay beside you. Little kisses being peppered up your torso until they reach your mouth, deepening only slightly for a moment before the slick lips are gone again. Everything that just happened feels like an insane fever dream for a few moments until his voice brings you back to the present. In the afterglow of the connection you just shared with him, he looks fucking radiant. 

 “I think you and I should just do this forever. That was too fucking good for this to be a one time thing.” He says, looking you over with a hopeful look in his eye and a lazy little smile on his plump lips. 

 You giggle, rolling onto your belly as you nudge him with your nose upon his shoulder. “Yeah? Like once a week we get together and bang until we're too old to fuck?” 

 Chuckling, he grins down at you with a genuine air about him, moving hair from your face while looking into your eyes. “I mean, that sounds like a good arrangement to me. More than once a week is also acceptable.” 

 “I think you’ve got yourself a bargain,” you laugh, a great yawn escaping your lips afterward. “Mm. Get under the covers with me so we can sleep and then maybe do this again when we get up in the morning.” 

 “Oh shit a wake and fuck?” Dieter makes a silly face, drawing out the ‘i’ in shit for a few seconds while he makes quick work of getting the blankets pulled up over the both of you. 

 “A wake and bake and fuck,” you correct him with a little cheeky grin as you wiggle yourself under the warm bed coverings.  

 Morning comes, and so do the two of you. Once before a shower, once in the shower, twice just after breakfast. You’re not sure your ovaries can take much more of it. You’re certainly going to be walking funny back to Queens, that’s for sure. Breakfast is absolutely amazing. Dieter surprises you by whipping up some crepes from scratch. His ability is impressive, even more so when they turn out to be delicious. Banana, strawberry, Nutella. The man goes all out, even sprinkling on some powdered sugar. The fact that he can cook and likes to cook is such a plus.

 You're not sure what's going to happen from here, but you take comfort in the way he acts as if he has to be torn away from you later to head to the theater. The goodbye you share doesn't feel like goodbye forever, and for now that's enough.

*****

 It’s Friday morning, just a few days after the night of your life spent with Dieter Bravo. You haven’t messaged him for fear of coming off too needy or creepy, and for reasons unknown he hasn’t messaged you either. It’s disappointing, but the fact that you even slept with him at all is a miracle in it of itself. You’re trying to just count your blessings that it even happened and not feel too terrible about the fact that nothing more has come of it. Propped up in bed with your lap top and a cup of coffee, you’re trying desperately not to think about him as you focus on the task at hand. 

 Then your phone rings with a FaceTime call. Odd, you haven’t set up a time to talk to your little sister today and she’s the only person who uses FaceTime to call you. Plus, it’s only just after 10 am and you’re currently working on the clerical work you do part time from home, so she knows not to bug you unless its an emergency. Curious, you lean over from your fold out bed-top desk to look at the incoming call and a huge grin spreads across your features. With a fluttering in your stomach, you grab the device and answer. 

 Dieter Bravo’s face appears on the screen, grinning brightly at you. “Hey, weirdo,” he says, sounding happy as a clam while squinting into the phone. He’s outside somewhere with trees, Central Park you’d imagine, and you can tell that there’s a bit of a glare. But he’s not wearing sunglasses, instead the pair you’ve seen him with before is nestled in his mane of wild brown hair. The gesture comes off as if he purposefully wanted you to see his eyes, even if he can barely open them. 

 “Hey crush,” you respond, thrilled that he decided to call you first. “What’s up?” 

 Dieter looks almost bashful for a moment. “Just wanted to see your face. Picture wasn’t good enough, I needed to see that pretty fucking smile of yours in real time. I’ve been wanting to talk to you since the minute you left my place the other day, but I figured it was best to give you space. Didn’t wanna bombard you or make you uncomfortable.” 

 You smile even more brightly for him. “You know, I’ve been doing the same exact thing. It’s been killing me not to text you but I didn’t want to come off as needy. Is it weird that I miss you? I know it’s been less than two days but I really haven’t stopped thinking about you, D. I miss feeling your presence.” 

 “Same here, sweetheart. You’ve taken over my fucking brain.” 

 “When can I see you in person again?” 

 “There’s a performance tonight… but if you want to you could come over now and just hang out around the house until I get back? You could use your lunch break to get here and then finish working. Plus you’re more than welcome to watch my movies and eat my food.” 

 “I think I could be persuaded,” you say, smirking as you lay across the bed, holding the phone out as you do so. “Tomorrow’s the weekend and I don’t have any work to do on that indie project yet so I’m free for the next two days. I could cook something for the both of us to have when you get back tonight.” 

 “You wanna cook for me, muñequita?” 

 “Yeah,” you admit, “I wanna do something nice for you.” 

 “Wanting to hang out with my old, dumb ass again is more than enough,” he says, avoiding your gaze. He’s acting so shy. Its driving you wild to see that you have such an effect on a man you’ve lusted after for most of your post-pubescent life. You smile warmly at him, not willing to give in to his obvious trepidation. “Hey, please look at me?” 

 “M’sorry,” he mumbles, trying to hide the infectious smile pulling at the edges of his gorgeous mouth. The sun must have dipped behind some clouds, because he’s not squinting as harshly anymore. You can see more of his deep brown eyes as they bore into you through the seven inch screen in your hand. “You just do something to me that I’m not quite used to,” he adds, “it can be kinda overwhelming.” 

 “It’s okay,” you soothe, “you don’t need to be sorry. I just want to see you looking at me while I say this.” Dieter nods, seeming to be genuinely looking at you, so you go on, “I like you. I mean, I really like you. One of my favorite ways of showing affection for people I like is through the act of feeding them delicious food, and I’d love to show you some affection if that’s alright with you, Dieter.”

  His face softens considerably, as if what you just said has struck him in some significant kind of way. “That’s alright with me, yeah. I like you too, weirdo. Like, a lot.” 

 Stomach summersaulting within your abdomen, your face heats up as an uncontrollable little giggle escapes your throat. Your celebrity crush just said he likes you a lot. Christ, this cannot actually be real. There’s simply no way. “Well now that that’s out in the open, my handsome celebrity crush who likes me a lot, I’m going to pack a bag and hop on the train. Are you in Central?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll start heading home soon to meet you there. If you want, feel free to pack a bag for more than one night. I don’t have a show on Sunday, we could make a day of it. Maybe go to a museum or something.” 

 “I’d love that, Dieter. Seriously.” You're absolutely beaming.

 “Me too, muñequita. Now go get that thick little ass of yours moving so I can grip it in my hands while I fuck you up against my bedroom wall before work.”

*****

Part 1

[thebatcave45]

The Scream

(Bruce Wayne X reader)

Warnings: None, Fluff

Notes: @the--blackdahlia came up with this amzaing idea!! I used it and ran lol They have written other wonderful Keaton!Bruce Wayne fluff for me here and here (and I forgot one!) here Thank you Moxie!! 😘

🦇🖤🦇🖤🦇🖤🦇🖤🦇🖤🦇🖤🦇🖤🦇🖤🦇🖤🦇

Bruce’s car rolled to a stop in front of the manor gates. He leaned his head back on the head rest and loosened his tie as he waited for them to swing open. He was exhausted. A new group of Chinese investors were giving him hell. This was the third meeting with them this week that had dragged on into the night. 

As he started down the driveway, practically in autopilot, he glanced at his watch. 930. Shit! Normally he'd be getting ready for patrol by now. He didn’t even bother to put the car in the garage in the back, opting instead to park it out front. He'd put it away in the morning. 

Hurrying up the steps, he pushed the giant front door open. Wanting to practically drop on the floor, he set his briefcase down on the entry table and rubbed his temple.

His mind was almost cleared of the day when his self induced trance was interrupted by a high pitched scream. Y/N, he thought. His head snapped up and he looked around, trying to figure out which direction you were.

Again he heard you, this time yelling, “Nooo!” 

Bruce took off as fast as he could manage, sliding a bit on the slick floor as he rounded a corner. He stood still in one of the multiple halls of the massive house, holding his breath so he could listen better. He could hear loud music but there it was again. Your scream was ear piercing even from the hall, but he could tell which door now you were behind. 

Busting the door open, a blinding light radiated at him across a giant screen and music blasted. Bruce had run into the theater room without paying attention. Outlines of two figures could be seen sitting in the middle of the room, facing the movie they now were obviously watching. Bruce doubled over, putting his hands on his knees and tried to slow his heartbeat.

Standing back up after a few moments, Bruce was given cover to walk down the side of the sloping room unnoticed when the scene of the movie grew dark in color. He leaned back against the wall, looking at you two. Your eyes were glued to the screen, popcorn bowl in your cross-legged lap and a piece frozen in place between two of your fingers in front of your face. You were too entranced with the scene to eat it or put it back. Alfred was right next to you with a hand over his face. His fingers were just cracked enough that Bruce could see the reflection of his glasses and knew he was watching still. Shaking his head silently at the sight, he crossed his arms.

Catching movement out of the corner of your eye, you turned and saw a dark figure. At the same time, a ghoulish monster popped onto the screen again. This time the bowl went flying and popcorn rained down on you and Alfred as you scrunched up into the tightest ball possible, screaming the loudest you had ever screamed in your life. Bruce lunged forward just in time to catch the bowl before it beamed you in the head. 

This time it was Bruce who was shouting.

 “IT'S ME, Y/N!” 

The movie was still blaring as you started to unravel and look up at Bruce's face between your arms that were currently covering your face and head. You took a breath and started searching the ground for the remote that had gone flying in the commotion. Finally spotting it you pushed pause, causing the room to suddenly go quiet.

Bruce ran his hands through his hair and held the back of his head while biting his lip, looking between a popcorn covered and scared, you and Alfred. 

“I think that was quite enough excitement for one evening for this old man.” Alfred let go of clutching his chest and stood. “Master Wayne, I have leftovers for you in the fridge. Would you like me to reheat them for you, Sir?”

 Bruce put his arms down and onto his hips as he blew out a puff of air. 

“No no, Alfred. I’m probably going to wait until after I get back from patrol. Thank you though.”

“Very good, Sir. Goodnight to you both.” 

“Night Alfred” Bruce casually said. 

“Goodnight, Alfie” you said through a grin that was starting to spread across your face. 

Bruce watched Alfred walk up and out of the room then turned his attention back to you. He raised one of his eyebrows as he crossed his arms again. You pinched your lips together and made your eyes big and innocent. He just raised his eyebrow even higher, which broke you. Your fit of giggles caused you to slump to the side of your chair. Bruce smiled while shaking his head and sat down next to you where Alfred had been and waited for you to breathe again. 

“You could have killed him. What if Alfred had had a heart attack or something?” he looked over at you, amused. 

“I swear, despite how it may have looked, he was actually having a good time. He is the one that suggested the movie in the first place!” Your eyes were again pleading for him to not think you’d put Alfred through a horrible ordeal on purpose. “Could you finish it with me though? I think it’s almost over.” You grabbed the remote and looked cheerfully at him. 

With a slight grumble, Bruce situated himself better in the chair and took the remote from you. He raised the armrest and opened his arm to the side so you could cuddle up to him.

 “No more screaming though” he said scoldingly.

 “You don’t scream at horror movies? Nothing scares the big brave Batman?” He could feel your cheek against his shoulder as you smiled, teasing him. 

Bruce held out the remote to play the movie again but hesitated. 

“The thought of you being hurt is the only thing that truly scares me.” 

You raised your head up and he lightly kissed your forehead. Then, turning back to the screen, he pushed play. You got the hint. He did have to get going soon. You settled back into him and didn’t really notice the last bit of the movie. You were too busy thinking about how grateful you were to be in your own private hero's arms.

[blckbarbiedoll]

Million Dollar Baby

Chapter 4-Advantage, Zweig

CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT (fingering, p in v sex, kissing, etc.)

September 12, 2007-Stanford, California

"I missed you." Tashi said as she took a bite of her food.

"I missed you too. I'm gonna try to come visit more."

"So, what've you been up to?" Art asked. "Ya know, besides being the best tennis player in the world?"

"Definitely not the best. Maybe second best." You joked.

"Oh, come on. You're fucking phenomenal. You've won two grand slams and you're going to the Olympics at 19. You have an Adidas brand deal."

Tashi's demeanor changed. She looked a mix between annoyed and sad. You rolled your eyes and laughed.

"Guess what." You asked.

"What?"

"I ran into Patrick at the U.S. open."

They both paused their actions for a moment and looked at each other.

"Cool." Tashi responded.

"You can't avoid him forever. I know he misses you guys."

"Come on. We're gonna be late for the movie." Art stood up, changing the subject.

🎾

"We should do something over the summer." You suggested.

Art's arm was wrapped around your waist as the three of you walked into the campus.

"What about Florida?"

"Babe, you can go to Florida anytime. Let's go somewhere tropical."

"Well, when you win the Olympics next year, we can go somewhere to celebrate."

"I'm definitely not gonna win. I'm just happy I qualified."

"You're definitely gonna win. And I'm gonna be watching on tv cheering you on."

You rolled your eyes and kissed him softly. Once you got into the school and into the elevator, you parted ways with him.

"I'll meet up with you later. I'm gonna hang out with Tashi for a bit."

"I'll miss you."

"I'll send you a post card from the other side of the campus." You both walked into her room and you flopped onto the bed. "You okay?" You asked her. "You've barely said a word since we walked out the theater."

"What's your goal here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you tryna get back at me for something?"

"Tashi, what're you talking about?"

"It seems like lately all you've been doing is bragging about your perfect little boyfriend, and your perfect little career, and your perfect little life."

"Are you jealous?" You stood up.

"Yeah. I guess I'm fucking jealous. Jealous of the life that should've been mine."

"What?"

"I spent my entire life trying to get where you are. I worked, and I sacrificed, and I busted my ass for what I have. You didn't even want this!" Tears fell down her face as she walked closer to you. 

"Look, I'm sorry you got hurt. I really am. But that's not my fault and you don't have to take it out on me."

"It should be me going to the Olympics! It should be me with Art!"

"Art? So now this is about you wanting my boyfriend?"

"You're traveling most of the year! He doesn't need someone like that! He needs someone who can be there for him!"

"You intolerable bitch." You scoffed. "When you're done projecting your insecurities onto me, let me know."

"Sometimes I wish you got hurt instead of me."

Your jaw clenched and you felt your eyes begin to water.

"Patrick was right about you." You opened the door and hesitated a minute before opening it. "The worst part is even after all this, I'll probably still love you." You walked out and made your way to Art's dorm. You wiped your tears away before you knocked, not wanting him to worry.

"Hey. That was quick."

"Hey, I'm gonna leave a few days early, okay?" You walked in and set your suitcase on the bed.

"What? You just got here last night."

"I know. I just think I should go now." You shoved your stuff into the bag, avoiding eye contact with him.

He grabbed your hand to stop you from packing. 

"Slow down. Are you crying? Did something happen?"

You wiped your face again and pulled your hand away.

"Tashi and I had a fight."

"But you guys'll be okay, right?"

"I don't think so." You took a deep breath. "I also think we should take a break."

"A break? Did I do something?"

"No, Art." You grabbed his hands. "You didn't do anything. I just need a little time. Between just coming from the U.S. open, organizing the brand deal, training for the Olympics, and now this fight, it's just too much. But I love you so much. I just need some time."

"How much time?"

"I don't know. But I'm always gonna love you. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

You gathered the rest of your belongings and hugged him goodbye. You kissed his cheek and headed towards the door.

"I love you, Art."

"I love you too."

🎾FOUR YEARS LATER🎾

You waited anxiously by the door, waiting for a knock. After pacing back and forth for twenty minutes, you heard the sound you had been waiting for.

"Hey, Pat." You smiled as you pulled him into a hug.

"Hey, beautiful. Nice room. I mean, The Ritz? The Adidas money came in, I see."

"Thanks." You laughed and led him inside. "Do you want a drink? I made the dinner reservation for 8:00."

"Sure."

You grabbed two beers and sat on the sofa. You patted the spot next to you, signaling for him to sit.

"So, tell me what you've been up to." You took a sip.

"Uh, well, I still haven't won a slam."

"You'll get there. It's almost a new year."

"What about you? Gonna be a two time olympic gold medalist."

"I might not win."

"You will."

"Maybe."

"For sure."

You laughed and set your beer on the coffee table before scooting closer to him.

"You seeing anyone?" You asked him.

"Nah. Ya know how it goes. They always wanna come, but they never wanna stay."

"They're idiots then. Any girl or guy would be lucky to have you."

"You got a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

"I've just been keeping to myself since Art and I broke up."

"What happened?"

"I just needed a break." You sighed. "But, c'est la vie." You shrugged.

"Ayesha?"

"Hm?"

"Why'd you invite me to your hotel?"

"I heard you were in town, and I had the night off."

"We haven't talked in four years. Why now?"

"I missed you, Patrick."

"You missed me?"

"Am I not allowed to miss my friend?"

"Is that what we were?"

"We were both taken, so yeah. That's what we were."

"And what about now?"

"I think...the night is still young. Who knows what could happen."

"Huh." He smirked as his arm draped over the back of the couch. "You wanna know something?"

"Sure."

"Sometimes I wish that I had gotten your number instead of Tashi's."

"Well, you have my number now."

"I do."

You smiled and leaned in to press your lips against his. He held onto your waist to pull you closer to him. You grabbed Patrick's hand and led him to the bedroom.

"I missed you so much." He whispered while he was urgently taking your clothes off. He kicked his shoes off and lifted his shirt over his head. "I think about that night at the hotel a lot." He said while unzipping your romper. "I regretted not fucking you that night for years."

"Well, now's your chance." You kissed him roughly as your hands made work of his pants buttons. 

You pulled your romper down and tossed it onto the floor. He did the same with his jeans before picking you up and carrying you to your bed. He set you down and started to kiss your neck. Your hand went down to rub his dick through his boxers.

"Fuck." He groaned as his fingers slipped under your panties. "You're so wet for me already." 

"Patrick." You sighed as two of his fingers entered you, his thumb circling your clit.

His fingers continuously pumped in and out while he marked up your neck and chest. Your hand grabbed his bicep and squeezed it as the pleasure became too much to handle. 

"That feels good, doesn't it?"

"Oh my god, yes."

"I've been waiting for years to touch you." He kissed the spot right under your ear. "To make you cum."

"Oh, fuck." You groaned.

"You gonna cum for me?" He whispered into your neck.

"Yeah." Your nails dug into his skin as he moved his thumb faster. "Shit!" You cried out as you came around his fingers. 

He slowly pulled them out and brought them to his lips. "You taste so good."

You flipped him over so that you were on top of him. He helped you pull your panties down and you threw your bra onto the floor. You hovered so that he could get his boxers off. He kissed you while your hand went down to slowly stroke him. You lined your hips up with his and sank down onto him.

"Shit." He groaned. He held onto your hips while you rocked back and forth.

"You feel so good." You moaned against his lips.

The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin and heavy breathing. You knew neither of you would last much longer. He moved his hand down to rub your clit.

"Art said you were good, but fuck, I didn't know you'd be this good."

"You talked about me?" You asked as you continued to move your hips.

"Yeah. He used to call me and I'd ask about you. He didn't tell me everything, but the little he did had me hard as a fucking rock."

"Did you jerk off while thinking about me?"

"Fuck." He sighed. "Yeah."

"That's so fucking hot."

He took the opportunity to copy you and flipped you over. He started thrusting into you while looking into your eyes.

"You're close again, aren't you?" He asked. You nodded, which made him smirk. "Words, baby. Lemme hear you."

"Yeah. I'm close."

"Me too. Where do you want it?"

"Inside."

"You sure?"

"I have an IUD. Please, Patrick, I want you to cum inside me."

He cursed under his breath and rubbed your clit faster as he felt himself letting go. You threw your head back against the bed as you finished with him. He rested his head in the crook of your neck while you both caught your breaths.

"Tashi was right." You spoke.

"Huh?"

"You do have a big dick."

You both laughed and laid together, basking in the afterglow.

[beegomess]

Dark Paradise | Theodore Nott

Don't forget to read the previous chapters here

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated 🫶🏼

04. Swan Lake

They were still children when they played in the huge garden of the Malfoy Mansion, Y/N saw them from the window of one of the large halls of the house. She was jealous, her brother, Draco, seemed to have fun with his friends running through the corridors of the huge maze of bushes. While she took classes of all kinds: violin, piano, ballet, French, Italian and so many other classes. Ballet was beautiful, but it was the worst, the most demanding. She waited for the private teacher to arrive while watching them, the sneakers already well tied while she warmed up with the help of the bar and looked at them with sadness.

Now, a few years later, she was in the same place, but without the sadness, without any of those boys to feel jealous of and, of course, without her teacher too demanding for a simple child. Dancing made her calmer, and after last night's incident, Y/N used the first excuse to return home, even without her brother. She would return in a few days, of course, her classes were not over yet. However, she didn't want to risk facing Nott at that moment, much less the looks of Pansy and Mattheo.

The large room now seemed small, even though I kept a dance routine during the holidays, I felt the nostalgia of being there. Another Y/N saw herself in the mirror now, older and with less silly problems going through her head, she smiled as she remembered the various fights she had had with Draco when he insisted on not letting her play with her friends, who today were almost made men, and that now, one of them was the most recurrent in her restless mind.

Classical music plays smoothly filling the whole room. He remembers all the commands of his demanding teacher. Posture, arms in a delicate and precise movement, legs in the same way, the scapulas opened and closed like wings, the tips of the sneaker roared when peaking the floor with the movements. Accelerated breathing, but always perfectly controlled. And moving towards the end, the music slowed down and the movements became less and less agitated.

- I miss you so much at home. - Narcisa watched her majestically, as always. She had a smile and a proud look at her daughter, who smiled in response.

- How did I do? - The search for Y/N approval transpires a little while untying the sneakers on a bench.

- Perfect as always, my love. - The woman smiles - You and Draco should spend more weekends at home. This place seems so empty without you. - Narcisa approaches her daughter and watches her closely still with affection.

- We miss you too. - Narcisa realizes the lack of mention to her husband and looks at her with a disguised disapproval. - What? Our father is always at Hogwarts thanks to Draco's behavior. - They laugh

- You're not totally wrong, of course. - The older one sits next to her - Look, your father and I had plans for tonight. Let's go to a theater with some friends, you should come with us.

- I don't know, I know how dad doesn't like to have us among his business, I don't want to get in the way. - Y/N felt insecure about talking about his own father and that made Narcisa's heart squeeze.

- No way, dear. He was the one who asked me to call you. - She takes the girl's hand and smiles - Come with us. You have no idea how bored I am with Mrs. Berkshire. - Narcisa confesses and makes the girl laugh.

- All right. - She agrees. - Wow, I think I haven't seen them in years. - Y/N comments and they continue the conversation as they walk down the hallway to Y/N's room.

[...]

Y/N went down the stairs in his black scarpin, with a dress of the same color, he had a light neckline and the straps were dropped on his shoulders delicately. The dress went up to the height of his ankles, leaving his feet on display, the skirt quite round and structured, while the bust and torso were pressed in the right measure by the top of the dress. On his lap, a delicate shiny necklace decorated his skin, his hair was in the same hairstyle as the ball of the previous day, a clutch in his hands and his apparent skin was covered by a shawl of the same color and fabric as the dress.

- She is more and more like her mother. - Lúcios looked at her with pride at the foot of the stairs accompanied by his wife.

- I'm happy about that, thank you. - Y/N responds timidly, demonstrations of affection were not your father's strength.

And in a few seconds they set up in the entrance hall of the theater, Y/N observes the number of wizards present there, at all times she needed to stop and greet someone who greeted her father. Now I understood your mother for being easily bored. And in a few more steps, they stop again, Y/N hoped to greet and follow, as she had done in the last 15 minutes when she was shown by her parents as in a shop window. That wasn't a very youthful place and when she saw a boy approach his parents, just as she was slightly surprised, she didn't think she would be the only one her age, but she didn't expect to find someone so quickly. While her parents greeted each other and the other couple admired her and said how she had grown up, she notices the boy's gaze on her by her peripheral look.

- Honey, I imagine you must still remember Lorenzo. - Your mother starts. - You, Draco and Lorenzo were very stuck together as a child, remember? - Y/N looked at the boy in front of you and then his memory rescued Lorenzo from the bottom of his childhood memories.

- Oh, of course. As I could forget, I'm sorry. - Y/N said smiling and extending his hand to the boy and opened a breathtaking smile and promptly held her hand, leaving a light kiss on top of it.

- It's really been a long time, everything is fine! - He said kind.

Well, Lorenzo was certainly no longer that annoying brat who took his dolls and hid them. And even at that time Y/N already had a crush on the boy who, secretly, felt the same. However, now he was grown up and very handsome for sure. Well, actually, beautiful would be the ideal adjective for him. The 11-year-old Y/N suffered a lot when she found out that Lorenzo, affectionately nicknamed Enzo, had not been selected for Hogwarts like her and Draco, but for some other of which she did not even remember so much frustration she had felt at the time.

- I didn't know you had aged so much to come to events like this. - Y/N jokes after making sure that none of the adults there would hear.

- For your information, my mother forced me after your mother asked me to come and keep you company. - Enzo says convinced while laughing, Y/N unleashes in a shock and shame for his mother's cunning. - Can I? - The parents of both begin to move and Enzo offers his arm to Y/N and intertwines it with hers.

- I can't believe she did that. - She said still in disbelief, making the boy laugh slightly. The youngest walked behind their parents through long corridors of accents and stairs, that place seemed to have no end.

- Lucky for you that I came home a little earlier, if I wouldn't be alone in this terrible place. - He jokes approaching her, who in turn laughs again. - Although I wouldn't have been a problem having unmarked any plan I had today to see you. - He pauses and Y/N looks at him, a little amazed at his tranquility in confessing here to her. The girl gives a half smile in gratitude. - It's been a long time since we've seen each other, Y/N, and you really look very beautiful, even more than before. - Enzo said this a little more serious now, and Y/N could swear that he would have stopped walking on time if it wasn't for him taking his arm.

Before she could answer, her parents called her from the stairs that went up to the higher cabins with a privileged view of the stage. She sat next to Lorenzo, which made her slightly nervous, and she didn't know why. Her hand was supported, she hit her fingers lightly against the old wood of the arm of the chair to the rhythm of the music she used to dance to, when suddenly, Lorenzo caught her.

Y/N hook his breath for a moment and didn't look at him, both ignoring the touch of his hands. Y/N felt nervous about Lorenzo's touch and dramatic music, but for a second she closed her eyes, trying to get Theodore out of her mind. For some reason, all that turned her mind like a whirlwind of memories that suffocated her, it was as if with every breath she gave the scene of him touching her body came back with all his strength, her skin shivered just remembering Theodore's mouth on her lips and neck.

That really looked like torture. By Merlin, how she would like to be with him now.

She couldn't stand it, and asked permission to go to the toilet, there she wet a towel and positioned it on the back of her neck and then went through her neck, lap and arms. Y/N stared at herself in the mirror for a moment and began to realize that something was happening in her heart, she had never been like this for anyone before. The girl decided to ignore this at the moment, pull herself together and return to her seat. She was relieved that Lorenzo didn't try to take her hand anymore.

- I hope to see you soon, Y/N. - Enzo said goodbye in the same way he greeted her and Y/N just nodded with a light smile.

[...]

- I only stopped by to say good night. - Narcisa was passing through the half-open door of Y/N's room. The girl was already lying down just reading a book. - I'll miss you, dear, it was so little time. - And it really was, Y/N would go back to school the next day very early.

- Don't worry, mom, Draco and I will be back soon. - The girl puts the book on the bedside table and smiles at the older one.

- We didn't even have time to talk. - Narcisa sits on the edge of Y/N's bed. - I saw the way Lorenzo looked at you today. - She had a silly smile on her lips. - He seems to like you, he looks at you with so much adoration.

- Mom! By Merlin, he's almost a stranger to me now. - The girl says indignant, but laughing.

- A stranger who held his hand all the time, I saw it myself. - Y/N can't help but roll his eyes in response.

- I don't want to talk about it now, mom.

- All right. - The woman answers in surrender. - So, who took you to the dance yesterday? - Y/N stiffens with the question, and your mother notices.

- Theodore. - She answers simply, hoping that Narcisa will not prolong the subject.

- Nott? - Y/N nods - I didn't know you liked him. - she said getting out of bed.

- We're just good friends, that's all. - All right, maybe that was exaggerated.

- Oh, yes, I see. - Your mother smiles with false innocence and leans over to kiss the girl's forehead - Good night, dear.

- Good evening, mom. - The woman closes the bedroom door with a light smile, I already understand everything.

Y/N, however, seemed even more confusing...

____________________________________

xoxo, bee✨🫶🏼 next chapter>>>

[icepoptroll]

Somewhat late for ur requests for asks: favorite productions of rtc and why? Doesnt have to be THE one; just ones that stuck with u for whatever reason

Omg, I have so many faves

Stageworks is probably the most special to me, I drove two hours to see it on three separate occasions between two runs. Their interpretation of Ricky was one of my favorites ever, they really did his character justice which is important to me given how much has been taken away from his character over the years. They also had one of my favorite Mischas, his facial expressions and body language just really sold him as an angry bad boy, sometimes the way he'd look out into the audience I felt for a second like he and I were about to get into a scrap lol. But then at certain moments all of a sudden all that anger and hardness would melt away and he was just a big softy. I got to stagedoor afterwards at all three shows I went to and the whole cast was so wonderful and friendly. Here's a couple photos:

I once saw a lesser known production also in northern NJ at the Villagers Theater. I only saw this one once so I don't remember as much, however I do remember that:

-In WTWN Ocean busted through a banner like at a football game

-In Noel's Lament Noel was giving lap dances to people in the front row, as well he literally pulled out a poem written on a small piece of paper and burned it with an actual lighter. Bruh he put his whole Noel-ussy into it

-Their Karnak was freaking awesome!! Here's him reading my fortune:

Some other faves I haven't seen live but enjoyed slime tutorials for were: Fed's Backyard Theater, ESU, and Majestic Rep!! Mostly I just enjoyed them for the various ways the characters were portrayed and the effects were achieved (like Ricky riding onto the stage on a giant space laser in the ESU version absolutely sent me, and everyone getting to say an individual goodbye to Jane at the end of Fed's and then Virgil taking her hand and walking her to the other side had me tearing up)

[brisquad-unit-4402]

when that wilson enemies to lovers fic is posted, TRUST that i’ll get out my snacks and drinks while lounging on the couch to read it like i’m watching a movie in theaters 🤞

omg hi celeste. here take this except (body horror + insect warning)

[Wilson] had met you by circumstance. High-value jobs tend to target the same people, since their influence was seconded only by their value. One moment he had busted through the vents only to find that his target already died, a space on their neck turning pale blue from a poison bite. Then the next he felt the wind get knocked out of him as he was slammed against a wall with his feet in the air. The person that pinned him had a cloth face mask on their chin, and above it, insectoid mandibles writhed at the jaw, frothing with the cause of his target's death.

Wilson screamed, of course. Who wouldn't? Especially when he realized that only one arm held him in place even though he was paralyzed. It wasn't even an arm; hundreds of segmented legs held him down as a gigantic centipede body took place of the limb.

"I was instructed to kill a politician, not a bodyguard." The clicking mandibles melted into flesh, but you raised your mask before he could make out any of your features. The only thing he could see was your hair and eyes, thankfully human, though they shone with facets of compound eyes and the iridescence of an insect magnified. "I must offer a discount to my client for not following their criteria, but selling your organs will make up for the loss."

"Nope!" Wilson blustered, suddenly feeling very protective over his liver. "I-I-I also was supposed to kill them, but lucky me, it's already been done! Guess I'll…" he trailed off as the centipede legs inched up his neck and onto his face.

"...I'll go home?" He pleaded. He blinked owlishly, mustering up the best puppy eyes he could, and silently thanked his lucky stars his goggles were on properly. If those legs got any closer to his eyes he'd really start freaking out. "Please?"

You stared back at him unamused. Not that he could tell, considering the mask obscuring your face. "You got a name? One or two kidneys?"

"Yu Q. Wilson! I'm a hitman, and I think my client wanted them gone because they're political rivals, and it's really rare to work in this industry without selling a kidney along the way so please don't take mine, I like having them both—uff!"

You flicked your centipede arm away. Wilson crumpled to the ground, having lost his breath a second time. He held a hand to his chest to still his beating heart, especially since he was only a few feet away from the politician and the poison dripping from their bite.

"Our employer is an idiot," you say curtly. "They pay two separate assassins an upfront fee, and one of them doesn't even value their privacy."

"Hey, I do too value their privacy."

"Then you made a mistake telling me a single detail about them. Get up."

Wilson remembered how to walk at your command. He stood up, resting a hand on the wall, still affected by the shock of a centipede-person nearly biting his head off. "Wait, none of the alarms have gone off. There's supposed to be security checking this area soon, especially since I screamed."

"Then leave."

He opened his mouth to respond but failed to speak as you fell straight backward. The hitman reached out to grab you, but you've disappeared right before his very eyes.

Wilson stood there, the room turning acrid with the dead body and its poison, and no trace of the insectoid assassin. On cue, he bristled. Footsteps approached the door.

He scrambled back up the vents, shutting the grate behind him with a slam, not even noticing the spider that perched on the sheath of his sword as he rose, waiting for its opportunity to breach the surface in the dead of night as a killer is wont to do…

[prince-koda]

Under the Weather

Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1105

CW: They/Them/Theirs used for reader, reader is on unspecified medication(s) for depressive traits, no physical descriptions of reader, avengers compound or bust.

AN: I have returned to bring another insanely self-indulgent post. I have been moving, still unemployed, and recently dealing with the physical effects of not taking care of myself while on medications which is no good. I'm also posted a little tip sheet with some of the things I try to do to help myself stay afloat when I'm feeling particularly down and unable to do anything.

Constructive criticism always appreciated.

Some days it feels impossible to get out of bed. With what felt like the weight of the world on their shoulders made their back ache and their stomach churn. The feeling of being a burden filled them with dread, terrified of losing everyone for being ‘too difficult’, ‘too distant’, ‘too hot and cold’.

Another night of restless sleep, hips hurting from all the tossing and turning. Left side, stomach, back, left side, right side; it never stopped. It wouldn’t be long before the familiar ache behind their eyes came back and made it hard to do anything without causing their head to pound. Too tired and nauseous to eat consistently only fed into the sad cycle.

The hole was getting deeper and harder to climb out of and it was frightening. Being tired and having a headache only works so well and for so long before it rings empty as a lazy attempt to avoid work and socializing.

They sat on their bed, attempting to push through the fog in their brain by rubbing their eyes and face. They needed to get up and at least go to the kitchen and get water so someone in the compound could see they were still alive, but even a short interaction made the task feel like a full blown mission.

2 knocks and a “hey” from the other side of the door was all it took to clear the fog. One deep breath and then they finally stood, pushing all they could into the back of their mind. The pit in their stomach was impossible to push away.

Once the door was opened, Bucky’s pretty eyes and low bun peaked in.

“How ya feeling? Any better?”  A small smile rested on his face as his eyes tried to subtly scope out the room, looking for any red flags. He had to make sure his paranoia was just that: paranoia.

“I didn’t sleep very well, but I feel a little better.” A partially truthful answer quietly slipped from their lips.

Bucky quietly hummed in response, pausing for a moment as he struggled to find his words. What neither party expected was for the door to open wider, ushering Bucky inside. Both hearts fluttered at the reality of finally seeing one another face to face. It was time for them to take baby steps.

“Sam was telling me about this movie, I don’t remember the name, but he texted it to me and I was thinking we could watch it together. I can get snacks and everything.” He offered as he stepped into the room, allowing him to continue his search for any clues; anything that could help him understand what to do.

Like he normally did, he took a seat at the desk in the corner, spinning the chair to face the entire room. It wasn’t his space; even after being invited plenty of times, he feared coming off as too comfortable. 

“I’m not sure I’m feeling good enough for a group thing.” Was the quiet response, hoping that would suffice. After closing the door, they shuffled slightly to sit at the end of the messy bed. 

“Oh.” He had noticed the room was the same. It looked the exact same way it did last time he was over. Nothing in the room seemed to have been used since then other than the bed. He figured they’d done nothing, but lay in bed. He clear his throat quietly. “I meant just you and me, but there’s no pressure. Sam had said it was something you’d probably like.” Another partially true statement. He slyly omitted the part that he had been the one to reach out to Sam about what was playing in theaters.

“It’s just-” A sigh followed by a short pause. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Finally, no more half truths.

“It feels like I just can’t… feel, I guess.”  They played with their hands in their lap, eyes downcast. “My meds are supposed to help, but there must be something wrong with me.” It wasn’t a secret they had their ups and downs, but Bucky had never experienced a down like this. Unreturned messages and calls happened sometimes, seemingly being asleep anytime someone came to their door and the secret, quiet sobs after they thought whoever was at the door left; those were new.

“How can I help?” After hesitating, he pushed the chair closer to the end of the bed, slightly shortening the distance between the two. Earnestly, all he wanted was to help. He’d set the world on fire to help.

They felt their throat tighten. It felt as though the second they opened their mouth, they’d sob. Instead, they chose to shrug.

“Do you want me to leave? I can head out and maybe drop off some food if you want.” He didn’t want to leave for even a second.

Shakily, but quickly they said “No.”  They tightened their grip on their hands, wringing them now. “I-” their voice cracked, “You make me feel better.”

Now Bucky was sure he was going to cry. Before he could find his word, they had finally stopped strangling their hands, quickly pressing the heels of their palms into their eyes for a moment, before finally looking at Bucky.

“I’m probably just tired from not sleeping very well.” They tried giving a chuckle, downplaying the days and days of not having the energy to do anything besides get up to use the restroom or grab some water from the bathroom tap.

“You take care of me when I don’t feel good, the least I can do is return the favor. We can call your doctor and-?” Bucky pushed forward in his chair again, his knees almost bumping into theirs.

“You don’t owe me anything Buck.” They scoffed, eyes falling again from his conviction.

“That’s not what I meant. I’d help you even if you punched me in the gut every day.” He knocked his knee against theirs. “Maybe I can con Sam to bring us some food and we can make fun of some low budget films.” Dipping his head for any eye contact.

When they peeked up, they gave a little nod. “I’d appreciate that.” Bumping Bucky back with their knee.

“Maybe some sandwiches? Plain enough to upset your stomach?” Bucky wasn’t unfamiliar with trying to eat after an extended period without food.

A soft smile, the first real one in what he felt like was centuries, graced their face.

“I really appreciate you, Bucky. Don’t tell Sammy, but you’re my favorite.”

“Like he doesn’t already know that.” Bucky smiles back.

Baby steps.

[transingthoseformers]

Tarn looking as Optimus starts giving him an inspiring speach about changing his life and coming metaphorically home while Soundwave busts in trying to get him to be Decepticon and help him fix the movement. Starscream is basicaly having a moment seeing Unmasked and brightly colored tank and going "the fuck?!"

Damus has to explain the rest of the DJD died taking down Overlord(because fuck that guy) and there is no more DJD or List. He limped the Peaceful Tyrany to Earth at Megatron's all call only to discover the events on the earth theater, Megatron's defection and he personally was a pawn to cause Optimus emotional suffering. After all Orion Pax was a good friend to him. One of the few real ones he had.

Damus' vaugly intentions plans to become a cave hermit get dashed to pieces.

Exactly

Cool Optimus v Soundwave here about Damus, and Starscream's not sure he wants to get involved but he can't leave this trainwreck

And, of course, it's overlord's fault. If course it is. Overlord vs the DJD is a fight I wish I could've seen (more?) of in the initial series

Because, indeed, fuck that guy

Oh damus, cave hermit intentions shattered

[flamingostalker]

have y’all ever been witness to a movie-like moment happening to somebody else? like when I was walking around boston there was a couple that bust out of a theater and just starting kissing right there in the middle of the sidewalk like fully no cares you could hear the spirited string orchestra behind them basically. but they did that where i was walking so i had to go 🧍‍♂️ um excuse me🚶‍♂️ and clomp around them in my big dyke boots