#food suspended in shit

[shiftythrifting]

Worcester, MA

#submission #thrifting #shiftythrifting #shoes #horses #food suspended in shit #bottles of x #religion #books

[lovebugism]

Hi! Could I pls request a Steve x shy!reader drabble? Maybe they’re a bit of a bookworm and they have a meet cute at a library or bookstore or something ☺️ I love your fics, and I hope you’re having a good day! 💛

i've been working on this wip for ages but i loved this request too much not to finish! thanks for being patient with me anon!

summary: steve hopeless romantic harrington meets shy!reader at a bookstore and fluffy awkwardness ensues (meet cute, strangers to lovers-ish, fluff, 2.1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Five hours go by like minutes, tucked away in the back of the library — your own little corner of the world. 

Because all your spare cash went to groceries and good food (and the newest Margaret Atwood novel just dropped), you hide in the back of the bookstore and get lost in the nostalgic earthy scent of the thick pages you’ve been waiting ages to read. 

You sit between the dystopian and gothic fiction aisles, back propped against the former with your knees folded to your chest, and speed-read as much as you can before closing.

The in-store café offers complimentary coffee and bagels. It’s lukewarm and a little cardboard-y, but it’s fuel nonetheless. You only get up once to use the bathroom and stretch your stiff limbs. Other than that very brief break, you’re relatively unbothered — until page 196, anyway.

“Where are the porno mags?” a male voice wonders from a few aisles down. It’s not the first voice you’ve heard all day, but it’s certainly the closest.

A feminine voice follows, nearer now. “There’s no porn, dingus. I was just saying that so you’d drive me here.”

“…That’s so fucked up.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“No, actually. I won’t. This might be the end of our friendship, now that I think about it.”

Their conversation draws closer and closer to you in time with their nearing footsteps. You figure they must be looking for a different section — certainly not the one you’ve had to yourself all day — but then they turn the corner of the aisle and stop short when they find you sitting there.

“Oh,” a pretty girl hums as she stares down at you, rouge mouth forming a softly pouted ‘o’ shape. 

Her hair is a sandy color, like a beach, and it’s chopped at her shoulders. She wears a pair of slacks and suspenders over an oversized button-up. She looks like a character from a book you wish you could write. 

She smiles down at you, a tad bit awkwardly. “Hello…”

“Shit— ” you curse, scrambling to get your legs out of the aisle. Your face burns as you bring your knees back to your chest. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” she shrugs and walks on by you. 

A pretty boy follows.

His hair is a really specific shade of brown — like chocolate syrup mixed with honey. It’s pushed back over his forehead, messy with intention. A few strands hang over his thick brows like they’re meant to be there. He’s got a layer of scruff on his chiseled jaw that’s a shade lighter than his actual hair. 

His wide eyes are a similar chocolate-syrup-honey color.

He’s almost annoyingly pretty. The kind of pretty that seems unfair.

“Don’t apologize to her,” the pretty boy jokes with a lopsided smile. “She’s a total bully.”

The pretty girl interjects. “Don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot. And stop bothering her, dingus— she’s obviously trying to read.”

You breathe out an awkward laugh through your nose. 

You don’t want them to think you’re actually annoyed, but you don’t have the words to tell them that. You have no idea what to say to them, actually. They’re obviously far cooler than you are, and the notion almost threatens you.

The pretty boy doesn’t follow his pretty friend. He lets her roam the aisle, obviously in search of something, and leans against the gothic fiction section across from you.

“So, uh… What are you reading?” he asks.

You don’t trust your voice to answer him verbally, lest the words get stuck in your throat and make you sound like Kermit the Frog. You flash him the dystopic, renaissance painting-esque cover with a tightlipped smile.

“Handmaid’s Tale,” he reads with a squint, then nods. “Sounds fun.”

“It’s not,” the pretty girl scoffs. She thumbs through her own copy of the book that she plucked from the shelf. “It’s the one I was telling you about on the way over.”

The pretty boy’s face screws up in disgust. “Oh. The one with gross men?”

“The one with the gross men.”

He turns back to you, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I take it back. Not fun.”

You smile wordlessly in response.

“He’s Steve, by the way,” the pretty girl says to you, nodding to the pretty boy. “I figured if he’s gonna keep weirdly hovering over you, you should probably know his name—”

“I’m not hovering!”

“—You can call him dingus if you want. I’m Robin.”

“Hi,” you greet, quiet and mousy.

“Do you come around here often?” the boy — Steve — wonders, bushy brows pinched and burly arms crossed over his chest. “I feel like I’ve seen you before—”

“Ugh. Stop flirting with her.”

“I’m asking a question!”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile and your gaze back to your book. 

They argue like a married couple. You wonder how long they’ve been together — six months or six years?

“Sorry about him. He’s not usually this annoying,” Robin quips with a playful twinkle in her deep ocean eye. She slams the book closed with a ringed handand walks back towards you. She pushes Steve ahead and away from you in the process. “Alright, I got the goods. Let’s go before they close.”

Your eyes widen as you look down at your wrist. 

Ten minutes until eight o’clock. 

You turn to the book once more and find that you’re about a hundred pages shy from the end of it. You tend to read like a maniac if you’re focused enough, but there’s no way you’re finishing it before closing.

“Shit…”

“You okay?” Steve asks, still lingering at the very end of the aisle, though Robin has already left for check-out.

You rise and straighten out your clothes — the very un-special sweatshirt and baggy jeans duo you’d changed into after work. It’s not unlike the navy blue henley and similarly colored denim he’s got on, but you don’t look nearly as pretty as he does.

“Yeah,” you shrug, not quite meeting his gaze as you return the book that feels like it only fits in your hands. “I just— I didn’t realize how late it was.”

You don’t expect to see Steve looking so concerned when you turn back to him. His brows are furrowed, honey eyes glinting in question. “You’re not getting it? You looked like you were almost done.”

“Oh, I don’t— I can’t…” you stammer then trail off, fidgeting awkwardly ahead of him. 

You don’t want this pretty boy’s first impression of you to be that you’re completely and utterly broke. Even if this is the last you ever see of him, you’ll only be remembered as that one girl from the bookstore who couldn’t buy herself anything. 

“I figured I could just come buy tomorrow and finish it…”

“Oh. Okay. Well, it was… it was nice meeting you, then.”

“You, too,” you murmur with a tightlipped smile, eager to get away from a moment you don’t feel very deserving of. 

Out of every girl this pretty boy could’ve chosen, why did it have to be the one in the very back of the bookstore who was too poor to get anything other than a free coffee and bagel? 

You chuck both in the bin as you head towards the exit.

The sun has almost finished setting when you leave — mostly disappeared over the skyline, but painting the sky a deep lavender shade unique to the twilight hour. You stand at the crosswalk — the man on the speaker shouting “wait!” at your side — as you anticipate the orange hand across the street to turn into a white stick figure.

“I told you she’d still be here,” a familiar voice sounds from a few paces behind you, mostly drowned out by the sounds of passing cars. A louder “hey!” follows. You only think the voice might be calling for you until it comes closer. 

“Hey!” It comes again, louder now.

You look over your shoulder and find Steve from the Bookstore striding towards you. 

Both happy and confused to see him, your wavering smile is paired with a pair of furrowed brows. “Hey…”

“Sorry, you just— you left this.”

When your eyes manage to flit away from his sculpted face — which you just noticed looks eerily similar to Michelangelo’s David — you find that he’s holding a book in his hands. Handmaid’s Tale. The same copy you were reading, dog-eared just like you left it.

Your contorted features never falter. “I didn’t…” you trail off with the shake of your head, laughing softly. “I didn’t buy that.”

“No, I know,” Steve shrugs with a crooked grin. “I did.”

You think he might be implying he bought it for you, but then you realize that’s crazy, because why would he do that for you? That’s the sort of thing that happens to girls in Brontë novels, not to you.

“Youdid?” you echo like an idiot because it’s all you can think to say.

“Yeah. ‘Cause, you know, you looked pretty interested in it and everything…”

“But you didn’t have to… You didn’t have to buy it for me—”

“It’s not a big deal. Seriously. I mean, it’ll save you the extra trip down here tomorrow, right?”

You meet his confident grin with a trembling one. “I can’t take it…”

“Well, if you don’t take it, that means I have to keep it, and—”

“He’s pretty much illiterate,” Robin calls from a little ways behind him.

She’s waiting by a pretty maroon car. It looks like a luxury model of some kind, shiny like it’s fresh off the lot. She leans against it like it’s hers, but Steve’s got the keys in his hand — the one not holding the book he bought for you.

“…I was gonna say I haven’t read anything since junior year of high school, but sure,” he concedes with a shrug. His eyes sparkle down at you— or maybe it’s just the street lamps flickering on. Either way, you feel your stomach whirling. He waves the book at you. “Take it. You’ll actually read it.”

“But…” you trail off, eyes flickering over to Robin. You step closer to Steve and lean in like you’re about to tell him a secret. “Won’t your girlfriend be upset?”

“Girlfriend?” the boy repeats with pinched brows. He goes soft with realization a second later, then starts to laugh. “No. Robin, she’s— No. She’s not really my type.”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry,” you stammer with wide eyes. 

If cool, pretty girls aren’t his type, then there’s no way in hell you are. 

Slightly comforted by his assurances, when he motions the book to you again, you take it. 

“Well, thank you, Steve. That’s… That’s really nice.”

He shrugs again. “’S no big deal. Really.”

“But I feel a little bad,” you confess quietly, peeking at him from beneath your lashes while you fidget with the book in your anxious hands. “I feel like I should give you something in return, or, I don’t know, like—”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Steve assures with the shake of his head. He swipes a hand through the chocolate-honey locks and flashes you a smile that borders on shy. “But if you wanted to go out for coffee or something sometime, then I’d be willing to call it even.”

Your cheeks burn. You don’t know if you’re breathing anymore, or if you even can. A quiet smile quirks at the corner of your mouth as you nod. “Coffee sounds good,” you answer sheepishly.

“Cool,” Steve replies coolly, like he isn’t totally beaming down at you. “Then, just… call me whenever you’re free.”

“Oh, I don’t— I don’t have your number.”

His sneakers scuff against the sidewalk as he walks backwards to his car. He just nods at you, smiling gently as he argues, “Yeah, you do.”

Your brows furrow in confusion — because you most certainly don’t. He was a stranger to you a little more than ten minutes ago. You have no reason to have his number. 

Realization settles over you like pinpricks down your spine, butterflies in your belly. 

You open the front cover of the book and find several numbers written down at the very bottom of the cover page.

Call me when you finish, the note reads in half-legible chicken scratch. I’m not really a book guy, but I could probably hear you talk about them all day.

He signs off with his name, number, and a sloppy smiley face. 

You don’t realize you’re beaming until you already are. 

When you look back up at Steve, you find him standing at the open driver’s side door, already smiling back at you.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

[fashion-runways]

okay it's been over a year and i keep saying i'm going to make a new post and it's too exhausting to even think about the whole thing so i keep pushing it-- here's the link to the old post if you want a more detailed thing i wrote back then.

anyway, a year ago, out of the blue, our apartment got raided by the police, they broke our front door, they broke a bunch of shit inside, they took a bunch of our stuff, they barely gave us answers or an explanation, they took my dad and made it seem like he would have to sign some stuff and answer some questions and come back, but it's been over a year (since june 2022) and he hasn't come back, and his case is still up in the air. they're barely working on it. they didn't pay for all the shit they broke, they haven't returned all the shit they took, we had to spend a lot of money on that, i had to take a loan to buy a new computer so i could keep working and studying, on top of spending even more money on basic needs for my dad in jail and lawyers, plus blood pressure and anxiety medications, plus he's old and he was scheduled an eye surgery that he obviously couldn't go to so he's like, practically blind in one eye now, also new clothes for him to wear there (there's a bunch of rules for that), honestly i already lost track of how many things we had to pay for. it's been incredibly stressful and it still is even now that we've gotten used to it. he's been detained for a year for something that they still don't even know if he did and the case is barely moving, i don't know if they're like... i don't know, waiting for the man to die in there since he's already old so they don't have to admit they don't have enough proof for all the mess they made? i don't know. like i said back then, please don't ask me for details on the case or show up in my inbox trying to play tiktok true crime and guess what he did/didn't do. it happened a few times and it's extremely triggering, please don't. please.

this blog is basically my job. it's my primary source of income, i don't have anything else, no matter how many interviews i go to, in the country/city i live and in the state our economy is, if you don't have contacts it's impossible to get a job. i'm always signing up to free programs to learn new things while i don't have a job, try to make my cv bigger, but it doesn't matter. if you don't have someone saying “please hire my friend/family member” or you don't have 500 years of experience, they won't. so like i said, donations people make to this blog are how me and my mom (and my pets) stay afloat. it's what we use to pay for food, general groceries, transportation, electricity, wifi, water, gas, health insurance, stuff for my dad in jail, meds for my mom who has diabetes, food and meds for my pets. i don't go out much, i haven't gotten a haircut in a year, i barely spend money in anything that makes me happy except once in a blue moon when i stop feeling guilty lmao i had a redbubble account also that helped a little too, but last week it got suspended without an explanation as i was uploading new designs, so i don't even have that now. i made a new account on teepublic, but all my designs in high quality are locked behind redbubble and i can't even log into because of the suspension. it's... complicated, and it's a lot, but it is what it is.

i'm always keeping an eye out on new collections, new designers, new cool things. like i said, i love fashion, i studied fashion, and i know a lot of you use this blog as inspiration whether it's for yourselves or for your art, so i don't want to post all similar stuff all the time, i want to post all kinds of styles and brands as much as i can. which is why when i say if you like this blog, if you want to support me, sending even the smallest amount of money helps me keep going. living in latin america, the exchange rate is kind of insane, so truly any amount of money donated helps. unfortunately, i never stop needing money to survive and help keep my family afloat, but in the past year more than ever.

as usual, my kofi link is this one: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my (new) teepublic link is this one: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. if my redbubble account gets reinstated, i'll add that link eventually too. and as always, thanks for loving this blog and for loving fashion like i love fashion, even when i post crazy looking stuff, and thanks for helping. you have no idea how much your support helps, but it really does, i don't even know if i'd be alive right now if it wasn't for this blog.

#text posts #long post.

[darlingbabyboo]

"What's wrong with me?"

♡ Luffy doesn't understand why the sight of you with Ace makes something ignite in him ♡

Reader is described as a girl and shorter then Luffy and Ace. Also, suspend your disbelief, timeline is not at all canon compliant. Also also, not edited in the slightest :)

Ace is being introduced and everything and Luffy is so happy

He loves his brother so much and seeing him is a dream

He's a natural charmer too, the entire crew is smitten with him

And some might be a bit too smitten with him

So rewind a bit, what exactly is your relationship with Luffy?

You're a really valuable member of the crew Luffy values you an extra lot

Since Luffy doesn't have a subtle bone in his entire body literally everyone knows that he's in love with you

Everyone except for you

Luffy might be the most obvious motherfucker but you're the most oblivious motherfucker

Match made in heaven

The crew is sick of your shit

But it's all going to be over soon thanks to a certain flame boi

Going back to Ace

When you saw Ace, your jaw dropped (and honey, who can blame you?)

And when Ace saw you, he was equally impressed because you're also quite a beauty

"I-it's so nice to see you." You can't help but stammer when you see Luffy's older brother. He's so- attractive!

"I should be saying that to you." He gives you an awards-winning smile and you try not to faint. "I love your curls."

You try to compose yourself as he leans in closer, your foreheads brushing against each other. You think- he's trying to break you. And lo and behold, his next words makes your heart skip a beat.

"I've certainly never seen such a beauty in all of the seas."

You can't handle it, your legs start to tremble, you're definitely going to fall over. You can feel yourself going...

Until, Ace wraps his arms around your waist to stop you

The crew watches the scene with a bit of amusement at the lovey-dovey scene

Luffy's not as impressed

"Ace! Let me show you around the ship." In the middle of you, pushing both of you apart (using a bit of his devil fruit to make sure that you guys stay far away from each others)

You pout, upset that your moment has been interrupted

Ace is equally disappointed

And Luffy is now filled with determination to make sure both of you never talk to each other again

"Hey, gorgeous, wanna night watch together? The stars are almost as beautiful as you."

"Oh, well-"

"She's going to be too busy!" Luffy pops in, out of nowhere. Not even remotely near you when the conversation was happening. Lying through his rubber skin because you have fucking nothing to do.

That's how all your interactions with Ace go on for the entirety of his stay

"Gorgeous, wanna walk around the island a bit?"

"That'd be great! I just need to-"

"Too bad that she's helping Sanji search for food!"

"What? No, I'll be fine. You can go with Ace if you want." Sanji doesn't want to be dragged into the weird love triangle with Luffy and his brother.

Luffy, in a shocking display, glares at Sanji and stretches to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into him. He nozzles into you, despite your gasp at the quick motion, "she'll be with me and Usopp, so she can't come with you." He sticks his tongue out at Ace as an extra measure, though his older brother only gives a playful smile.

The crew also has their own playful smiles

Luffy is experiencing jealousy so badly and him talking about his feelings is such a laugh

He tries to talk to you but he's horrible at talking about his feelings and also has such a soft spot for you that he's not match for it

"I didn't think that your brother was like that." You swoon. Luffy wonders if he's imaging hearts in your eyes. Why do you have those. Ace is cool but not that cool.

"I didn't think you would react like that." He huffs out, "I don't even know why you're talking to him this much, he likes you too much."

You laugh, thinking he's just being silly possessive like he is over the rest of the crew. "He's just being friendly. Nothing wrong with that."

"I think there's a lot wrong with that." He insists, a prominent pout on his face and arms crossed.

"Luffy, it's not a big deal."

"Yeah, well..." He trails off when you tilt up and place your hands on his cheeks.

"It's fine Luffy, don't worry." You smile up at him.

A strange feeling swarms in him. Is he hungry right now? All he knows is that he wants your smile aimed at him forever.

When Ace is about to leave, Luffy is practically dragging him away.

He loves his brother, he does, truly

Just doesn't like the chemistry that he has with you

"I'll miss you, beautiful." Ace offers you a charming smile and you bite your bottom lip, giving him a bashful look.

"O-oh, th-thank-"

"Okay, bye Ace, won't see you for a long time!"

He pushes Ace onto his boat, the crew watching in amusement and Ace laughing the entire time.

"Now you can spend more time with me again!" He wraps his arms around you, you giggle at him.

"Sure Luffy- and there's no need to be jealous- out of the two of you, you're my favourite!"

Oh, maybe you weren't that oblivious after all.

Luffy's smile widens when he hears that, hugging you tighter.

No matter what jealousies, you two will always be each others favourites ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

#luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #luffy fluff #luffy angst #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece fluff #one piece imagines #one piece angst #luffy imagine #luffy scenarios #one piece scenarios #luffy x black reader #one piece x black reader

[aireia]

the hell is this supposed to be? — you adopt a kitten without sukuna's knowledge.

tw/cw: gn! reader, fluff + crack(?). sukuna calls you a brat. not proofread + rushed. fic doesn't make sense author just wanted to write something with cats and it sucked.

note: i'm half asleep. you do not wanna know the shit i typed out while trying to figure this fic out. —masterlist

sukuna has never understood— no, he doesn’t understand you. right now, at least. he was convinced he understood you even before you got together. he’ll never admit it, but if anyone asked him about your preferences, he probably had the answer. favourite food, colour, type of clothing, when you would start growing tired and fall asleep while on the phone.

now, sukuna has a set of keys to your apartment because he liked going over to your place more than you going to his because his brother’s friends were there, and he’s convinced that being around them could make the smartest of the smartest stupid. so, you just gave him keys. you had nothing to hide, afterall.

it was supposed to be one of those days. he knew you weren’t going to be home, and decided to wait for you in your apartment. everything seemed normal at first. walking out the lift and heading straight for your apartment, inserting the key into the keyhole… until he opened the door. 

there was a small grey blob running towards him. and now, said grey blob was pawing at his jeans, trying to climb him. sure, sukuna was tall, but he wasn’t a tree! wait, cats aren’t supposed to be climbing up trees anyway!

sukuna looked down at the kitten, slowly becoming more and more annoyed when it didn’t leave him alone. if it’s in your home, it was probably dear to you, which means he can’t kick it off. he ended up bending down to pick it up by the paw, so now he just had a cat hanging onto his fingers with its paws while it was suspended in the air. 

“kuna? what are you doing at the door—” your sentence was cut off when you saw how your boyfriend was handling your newly adopted kitten. you immediately reached out to snatch it from him, holding it close to you. you lightly scolded him for picking a cat up that way and walked past him.

he felt like air the entire evening after that. you were tending to your newfound friend so much you didn’t give him as much attention as you usually did. he knows that he rejects your affection a lot, but that didn’t mean he wanted you to stop! the only time you paid him any attention was when he intentionally sat closer to you, and even then, you barely brushed your lips against his cheek. 

sukuna was sure he was glaring daggers into that kitten on your lap. it was taking his rightful place. was this jealousy? yea, maybe it was, because the amount of happiness he felt was immeasurable when that damn cat finally got off your lap to run to your room to do who knows what. who cares? the hugs you gave him made him feel far more superior. 

as of right now, you had just gone to take a shower. sukuna wanted to take a nap while waiting for you, only to find that your cat— well technically also his cat according to you, was sleeping on your bed. he glared at it before laying on his side on the other side of the bed. 

“tsk. wonder what that brat sees in you,” he clicked his tongue, and continued to stare at it. okay, maybe he was starting to get you. the kitten was kind of cute, and kind of cuddly looking, but that wasn’t enough reasons to start liking it. 

maybe it’s your turn to stop understanding sukuna, not that you ever have, actually. he claimed that he hated your feline friend while you were cuddling on the couch, but you stepped out of the bathroom to the grey kitten asleep on sukuna’s chest. he looked pretty peaceful too, no signs of waking up suddenly and throwing the kitten off. you took a photo. it’ll be good blackmail material for later.

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

#signed by aireia! #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna jjk #sukuna x y/n

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Body Like A Back Road: Part Two

Read Part One

Joe comes to terms with the fact that he can't take back his confession, and it may change his relationship with you forever

Warnings: smut, language, mentions of funeral, angst

A/N: I didn't really expect this to turn into such an angsty mini-series, but here we are lol

"You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me."

Joe was looking for an outlet for his frustrations, and he found it in the 600 lb. vending machine that was holding his bag of Lays barbecue chips hostage. It had to be way after midnight, the hallway empty and eerily quiet, the only sounds from the mechanics of the machines around him.

He ignored the buzzing from the overhead lighting and the hum of the ice machine next to him, as he sized up his opponent. He faced off against an o-line bigger than this all the time, but unfortunately, he wasn't wearing any padding right now, and the other team usually DIDN'T smack HAVE smack HIS smack DINNER smack HOSTAGE.

He threw his shoulder against the machine a couple of times, rocking it back and forth, before giving up, the bag still suspended between the glass and the coil. He roughly pulled his wallet out his back pocket, pulled out a couple dollar bills, and went through the motions again, stabbing his finger on the buttons A and 3. The mechanics whirred as another bag of chips was pushed forward, tipping before it ultimately landed on top of the previous bag. Now he was out four dollars with nothing to show for it.

At some point tonight, between agonizing over his confession of love to you and trying to get you to answer your damn phone, he must have fallen asleep on the rock hard mattress in his room and woke up starving. This hotel was severely lacking in amenities, the only source of food the stale snacks in the vending machine at the end of the hall.

Joe hated hotels. They always smelled kind of funny, he could never get the air condition to cool the room enough to his preferred sleep temperature, and he hated the thought that someone else had slept on the same bed before him. Still he didn't hesitate to join you on this road trip, knowing it meant leaving his comfort zone. You meant a lot to him, for whatever that was worth now.

"C'mon you piece of shit", he mumbled under his breath as he punched the glass, which didn't budge, before resting his forearm on top of the machine, hanging his head in defeat. He could try to pretend he was angry at the machine for swallowing his dollar all he wanted, but he knew it had nothing to do with that and everything to do with the fact that he had just told his best friend, the only solid relationship in his life, that he loved her, and her response was sheer confusion. "You sure do know how to fuck up a good thing, don't you?"

His head quickly turned to the side at the sound of footsteps, another hotel guest watching having caught his tantrum. They looked stunned, and honestly a little bit disturbed, which he really couldn't blame them for.

"How much of that did you see?", Joe muttered out just above a whisper, the patron stone faced and unmoving, ice bucket in hand. Joe gave him a quick nod and rushed past him, just hoping and praying he wouldn't see a headline about him on Sports Center tomorrow.

He immediately felt a thin layer of condensation on his skin as he entered his room, throwing the key card on the desk and heading directly for the balcony. The door stuck as he tried to open it, giving him trouble as he closed it back with a slam.

Your contact was at the top of his recent call list, unsuccessful attempt after attempt filling up the rows. He pressed your name again, holding up the phone to his ear as it rung a couple of times before going to voicemail.

"Hey this is Y/N, I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave me a message"

Your relationship was a lot of things: messy, intimate (he had the bite marks to prove it), surprisingly cathartic, to name a few.

The one thing it wasn't: love.

Joe had been in love before. It made him sick to his stomach, unsure of himself in every conceivable way, and it always ended up the same way, with him regretting ever having uttered the three words.

With you, things were easy. The sex was amazing; he was blushing just thinking about the events of earlier that night, and you didn't hound him for answers to questions he couldn't possibly answer or try to force vulnerability out of him. Things between you two just were the way they were, they settled exactly where they were supposed to, no muss, no fuss. He had no intention on ruining any of that on this road trip, but it slipped out, and he wholeheartedly regretted it.

So why did he say it then? Why did he say he loved you if he wasn't in love with you?

His feelings for you started building when you guys were just friends, but you both were just moving at different speeds it seemed, and if you weren't in a relationship, he was hung up on someone else and the time just never seemed right. You both ended up in the same city by a pure stroke of luck, but he was so focused on his career and trying to cure his only loneliness, he entered this agreement with you instead of confessing his feelings, simply because it was easier at the time.

Joe had a hard time keeping up with you, metaphorically of course. A big part of him had felt you slipping away for quite a while. He knew where he was going to be for the next couple of years, his contract with the Bengals determined that, but you were never sure, allowing life to take you were it wanted to in the moment. You made it clear from the jump that Cincy wasn't where you saw yourself settling down, and even if you were just "fuck buddies" by definition, he didn't want to lose you. He couldn't imagine a life where you weren't in it, and he knew that once you left, your relationship, and most importantly, your friendship was as good as dead.

He leaned forward on the railing, taking in the subpar view of the main road of whatever small town they were in, the warm air hitting his face, the smell of cigarette smoke burning his nostrils. This road trip had opened his eyes to one thing: your friends with benefits relationship was going to end eventually, and he wanted, no he needed you, after it was all over.

Who the hell was he kidding? He told you he loved you because he did love you, and he was hoping that he meant enough to you to make you stick around. Sure, he didn't go about it in the best way, but he meant what he said, and he needed to make sure you knew it wasn't a slip of the tongue.

If you weren't gonna answer your phone, he'd go to your room and try to explain everything to you. He had to fix this before you got back on the road tomorrow.

When he went to pull on the wooden balcony door handle, it let out a couple of squeaks, shaking in his hand, but it wouldn't budge. Figuring it was giving him trouble again, he pulled with all of his might, straining his bicep muscle, but the door wouldn't open.

This had to be some twisted, fucked up joke. He was stuck out on this crappy balcony, cigarette butts piled in the corners, the neon McDonalds sign cascading a dull yellow on the side of the hotel building, and he had no way of getting back into his room.

His hand was shaking as he pulled his phone out his pocket and called you again, this time being sent straight to voicemail.

Your phone was either off or it had died. Fuck. He dialed the front desk, but just as the call connected, the line went silent. He pulled his phone down to see the flashing red battery symbol on the screen. His own phone was dead, and he had no way to call for help.

He rolled through his options. He could try to break the glass door but it was very thick, and he didn't have anything to throw through it. He looked over the edge of the balcony. He was only a couple floors up, he could jump down, but the potential for injury took that idea out of the running.

Frantically looking around, he realized he really only had one option.

With his long arms he could just barely reach the edge of the neighboring balcony. He could try and jump over and try to get into the next room over. The room was completely dark, and there was a chance that no one was occupying the room, but he had to try.

His sneakers squeaked against the painted concrete as he propped his foot on top of the balcony and lifted himself up, clinging to the side of the building. He was able to easily step over to the next balcony, jumping down into the cement box.

He didn't need to peek through the window as the curtains were wide open and the room was empty, the sheets still balled up on the bed, waiting for turn down service.

He went through the motions again, stepping over to the next room... that was also empty.

He was tired, hungry, and irritable, growing more frustrated by each passing second, but he sure as hell wasn't going to sleep outside tonight, so he lifted himself up for the third time, jumping down into the balcony. At least the light was on in this room, the curtains just barely open. He felt bad for looking in, but he was desperate.

You had just gotten out of the shower, your hair dripping wet, a towel tightly wrapped around your form. The blue light from the TV flashed across your face as you dried off your hair. Joe couldn't help the smile that crept on his face as he watched you move around the room. He really did love you. He felt the familiar knot in his stomach, but not one that made him sick, one that made him excited. He only felt that way when he was around you.

Your head snapped around when Joe rapped his knuckles against the glass, startling you.

"Fuck!", you screamed out, cowering against the bed, gripping your towel tightly in your fist.

"Can you let me in?" Joe asked with a chuckle as he pointed to the door lock, his voice muffled by the thick pane of glass. You let out a huff as you crossed the room, unlocking and sliding the door open for him.

"What the hell are you doing out there?", you pointed a finger at him, "and how the hell did you get on my balcony?"

Joe threw himself back on the bed, sighing as he closed his eyes, exhaustion hitting him like a ton of bricks. "Your phone is dead.", he grumbled out, almost about to fall asleep. You grabbed your phone off the nightstand to confirm that he was correct.

"Yeah, that doesn't answer either of my questions."

Joe opened one eye to look up at you. "Balcony door broken. Locked out of room." You rushed over to the balcony, stepping out to survey how much of a jump he had to make. "So you decided to hop balconies? Do you know how badly you could have hurt yourself if you fell?" You weren't in the mood to go at it with Joe after the night you had, but that wouldn't stop you from chastising him for doing something so stupid. "You're lucky you didn't fall to your death."

Joe watched you as you turned away from him to get dressed, holding your towel up so he wouldn't be able to see your naked body. "You know its nothing I haven't seen right?"

You scoffed, "Joe, I'm not in the mood right now, okay?" You rolled your neck to alleviate the tension you were feeling in your body. Joe sat up, positioning himself on the edge of the bed, his elbows propped on his thighs. "About that..."

You snapped the band of your sweatpants around your waist, stopping his train of thought. "Joe, please don't do this. I just want to forget what happened between us and just go back to the way things were. I liked the arrangement we had." You squeezed the last drops of water out of your hair with your towel. "It was working for both of us."

Joe paused for a second, his gaze falling to the ground. "What if it wasn't working for me?" He could only imagine the look on your face, because he couldn't dare to raise his head.

You were frozen in place, not sure of how you felt. You were so confused; this confession came out of the blue, and while you cared so much about Joe, probably more than anyone else who came into your life, things were just too complicated to go down that road. You didn't like complicated. You liked simple, your life demanded simple.

"Are you going to say something?" Joe let a sharp breath out of his nostrils, his jaw flexing as he finally looked over at you. He could see your wheels turning, and the longer you were silent, the more he knew he wasn't going to like your answer.

You crossed your arms over your chest, digging your fingertips into the spaces between your ribcage. "No."

"No, what? No, you don't love me? No, you don't know how you feel?" Joe raked a hand through his hair, an incredulous look on his face. "I need a little bit more than no."

"No", you shifted your weight between your feet nervously. "No, I'm not going to say anything. I just want to go to sleep, get my car in the morning, and get the fuck out of this town." You stuffed your things back into your bag. "This was a mistake", you mumbled under your breath, but he caught every word.

Joe jumped to his feet. "Finally something we can agree on. Me coming with you on this trip was a big fucking mistake." He paced to the door, his hand roughly gripping the handle. "If I knew that we were going to end up here, I would have kept my mouth shut." He swung the door open harder than he intended, hitting the wall with a bang.

He took a single step before stopping in the threshold. That pep talk he gave himself before coming over here wasn't for nothing.

In the blink of an eye, Joe slammed the door shut, grabbing you by the waist and pinning you against the wall with his hips. You could barely let out a gasp before he crashed lips with you, the kiss hard and passionate, his hands cradling the back of your head, holding you in place. You pushed at his chest to break away for a breath, taking in his face, his eyelids heavy with lust. "What the hell was that?", you whispered, unable to look away from his pink, swollen lips.

He tone was even, his voice a low rumble. "Tell me that you don't love me, right now, and I'll drop the subject forever. We can go back to being fuck buddies, or nothing. Whatever you want."

Your chests heaved in unison as you contemplated Joe's ultimatum.

"I-", the word was came out as a squeak, your throat drying up as you tried to speak. You didn't know what you were going to do, but you knew you didn't want to lose Joe.

You grabbed the back of his neck, roughly kissing him again, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth as you made out. You were glad he was holding you up, as every inch of your body went numb, your fingers and toes tingling with excitement.

Joe pulled away for second, a smile on his face as he looked at you, moving back to kiss you again as he lifted you up, carrying you to the bed.

#joe burow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow #joeburrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x y/n #nfl imagine #nfl fanfic #nfl fanfiction

[sapphire-writes]

Running On Sunshine (hospital AU)

Do No Harm part 3 || masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: doctor!Aemond Targaryen x doctor!Reader

summary: You haven't spoken to Aemond. Tensions rise between the two of you and come to a head at the arrival of a disruptive patient.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: NSFW mdni medical terminology, use of needles, discussion around addiction (specifically alcohol, rehab, recovery), fighting, blood, punching, explicit sex (p in v) fingering, oral (fem receiving), creampie, praise, dirty talk, spanking, language

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

note: here it is! long-awaited, thank you for being so patient as my brain jumps around 😂 hope you enjoy it!!

disclaimer: yall, I am not a doctor, I am simply a Grey's Anatomy stan. If something is off or incorrect please just suspend your disbelief! I am trying my best to make it as accurate as possible but its just for fun!!

It’s been a few days since your ultimatum with Aemond. 

No texts. 

No calls. 

You pass each other in the halls and avoid eye contact, brushing past him close enough that if you extended your little finger you’d be sure to brush against the back of his hand.

You weren’t going to chase him. 

You’d told him what you wanted. Told him you’d wanted him. And he had stayed silent. If that was the end of you and him, so be it.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t killing you inside. Watching him day in and day out walking through the halls of Citadel General in those stupid blue scrubs that he somehow wore like he was strutting down a runway not the hallway of a hospital. 

It didn’t help that observations often included surgeries he was a part of. Aemond was a model resident, often asked to assist the attendants. And he was hard to miss, always wearing his signature scrub cap with little dragons peppered all over it, mid-flight. You’d catch him glancing up at the viewing gallery, peering up over his mask every now and then. You never caught his eye, he was much too quick for that. 

“Switch with me,” you’d begged that afternoon after Baratheon had informed you of the plan to observe Dr. Cole’s surgery. There was no way Aemond wouldn't be there, Dr. Cole had chosen him as an obvious favorite. 

You’d been catching up on notes with Cory for the past ten minutes, the pair of you both trying to shove food in your mouths before your pagers inevitably went off. 

Labs. Observation. Notes. Scut work.

The never-ending revolving schedule of your internship. 

Cory reaches into her bag of salt and vinegar chips, clicking her mouse furiously, her brows pinched together in concentration. 

“I can’t,” she says through a mouthful, “Besides, you’ve already done this lab. If I don’t get these hours by the end of the week I’m about to take Jace’s place as Baratheon’s least favorite.”

You groan in frustration, letting your head rest against the keyboard of your computer. Nettles pops her head into the room, frowning at you both, “What’s wrong with her?”

Cory shrugs and you turn your head to face Nettles. 

Beep beep!

Cory groans, checking her pager, “Shit, I gotta go,” she says, crushing her chip bag and logging out of the computer before heading out of the room, “Sorry again, Y/N!”

You mumble something along the lines of don’t worry about it just as she disappears from sight. Nettles raises her eyebrows.

“McDreamy?” she asks, and you continue to pout, “Damn. Dick is so good we should change his name to McDick.”

“You suck,” you tell her, but you can’t stop your smile, “Definitely not your best work.”

“McOrgasm? I’m still thinking of one that truly encompasses the distress he’s causing you. Dr. Cum?” she makes a face, “Okay ew. Definitely not Dr. Cum.”

You groan, putting your face in your hands, “What am I going to do?”

Nettles walks towards you, slapping the back of your head. You lift your head, mouth open in shock, palming the place she slapped.

“Hey! I was recently concussed!”

“And apparently it scrambled your brains more than we thought!” she snaps, “See what you’re not going to do is spend your days moping over Dr. Sexy. I don’t care how good his dick was. You are a doctor. You are an insanely smart woman and you are in your internship.”

Nettles lowers herself to your height, taking your hands in hers. 

“He is very dreamy,” she says, her brown eyes empathetic, “But this is your time to shine. Not his. He’s not this important.”

It hurts---gods does it hurt---but she’s right. And you know it. You’ve been through situations like this before. You’ve gotten through things like this, and worse. Smiling at Nettles you squeeze her hands.

“Thank you.”

“Mhmm,” she says, smiling, “Always here for a reality check. You’re the sun, babe.”

You smile back at her, “I’m the sun.”

“Damn right,” she says, chuckling, “How’s Cece doing?”

“She was discharged this morning,” you tell her, beaming with pride, “Just finished her last round of antibiotics and her labs are clear. I’m working on her note now.”

Nettles plops down in Cory’s seat, reaching into the chip bag she left behind. Her hand comes out empty and she frowns. 

Jace opens the door, looking rather sweaty and discombobulated. He’s been running around the most, trying to get on Barartheon’s good side. 

“Hey,” he says, out of breath, “Can you guys help me in the pit?”

“No can do,” Nettles says, “We’ve got observation soon.”

You nod agreeing, but become curious noticing Jace’s panicked expression.

“Why what’s wrong?” you ask.

“Just…five minutes,” Jace says, “Please, I need someone. And I can’t find Sara and Cory--I just need someone, please.”

You turn to Nettles.

“The pit?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at you, “Really?”

“Tell Baratheon I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you tell her, “Besides, maybe it’s a good case.”

“Girl,” Nettles says, sighing and shaking her head.

“I just really need your help,” Jace says, leading you through the emergency room, weaving between nurses and patients, “It’s just that…I mean I didn’t know the other day but now…”

“Didn’t know what?” you ask as he stops outside a curtain.

“-- he’s back again and family members--,” Jace says, brown eyes wide, “We’re not supposed to work on family members.”

Your eyebrows concave together in confusion when suddenly the curtain pulls back. A man is lying in the hospital bed, a halo of platinum hair cascading onto the pillow he lays on. His eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot, a lazy grin appearing on his face as he gives you a once-over.

“Nephew,” he sing-songs, giggling, “You brought me a present!”

Jace sighs, pulling the curtain from his grasp. Wait a minute. Nephew? Your eyes scan the giggling man as Jace snaps something at him. The silvery hair, the violet eyes. Seven hells.

How many Targaryens are there?

“Excuse me?”

“He’s kidding,” Jace says, forcing a smile and turning to his uncle, “You’re kidding.”

His uncle shakes his head, lower lip jutting out in a pout, “I’ve never told a joke in my life. She’s pretty Jacey, well done.”

Your cheeks burn at the compliment, at the way his eyes cascade down your body. You’ve never felt more exposed in simple scrubs. 

“Stop calling me that,” Jace snaps, cheeks reddening.

“I didn’t know you had it in you, Jacey boy,” he croons, “Thought Baela had taken your balls when she dumped your ass--”

“Funnier every time I see you, Aegon,” Jace interrupts, closing the curtain once more. 

Aegon’s mouth drops open in surprise before he’s hidden from sight. You raise an eyebrow at Jace, folding your arms across your chest. 

“He’s harmless,” Jace assures you, “Please, please just help get him out of here as soon as possible.”

“Well, that’s sort of difficult when we don’t know what’s wrong--”

“I know what’s wrong.”

You frown, raising an eyebrow at him, “You know?”

“Yeah, he’s fucking drunk. He’s always drunk. Just give him a banana bag, let him sober up, and get him out of here,” Jace instructs.

“How do you know he’s drunk?”

“Considering the fact he hasn’t been sober since I was eight years old, it’s not hard to guess,” Jace tells you, “He’s been to more rehab programs than I can count. Trust me on this.”

“I’m still going to have to do some labs,” you tell him, not willing to go against protocol.

“That’s fine, do what you have to do just…keep him out of the way,” Jace pleads, eyes widening as though he’d just remembered something very important, “And don’t let Aemond know he’s here.”

Your gut tightens at the mention of Aemond.

“Why not?”

“Just don’t. It’s better for everyone if no one knows Aegon is here,” Jace finishes, “Thank you, I owe you big time.”

“Yeah you do,” you confirm, and then Jace hurries out of sight, eager to escape the pit.

The curtain opens once more and you turn, meeting the curious gaze of Aegon Targaryen. You try to stop the scowl that threatens to overtake your face as he grins widely, a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“Ow!”

“Will you hold still!”

“You’re killing me!”

“Stop being so dramatic!”

“It hurts!”

“It won’t hurt if you stay still, Aegon!”

Aegon throws his opposite arm over his eyes as you attempt to find a vein for the third time. He’s too squirmy, too anxious that as soon as the needle pierces his ivory skin he’s flinching away and howling. 

“I’ve seen children do better than you,” you grumble, and he gasps in feigned shock.

“They let you torture children?”

“Hush!” you insist, and to your relief, he’s able to stay still as you start the IV, “There you go. See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Aegon peaks over his arm, glancing down at the tubes as you assemble them properly, making sure the drip is even. He frowns as you release the tourniquet. 

“I bruise like a peach,” he mumbles.

“Sounds like you need more iron in your diet,” you tell him, walking to the other side of his bed. You need to take his blood pressure and begin wrapping the band around his arm. 

“Can I have something for the pain?” he asks.

“No, you may not.”

“Not even Tylenol?”

“No.”

“Hells,” he mumbles, “You should know, I enjoy it when women are mean to me, it turns it on.”

“Of course it does.”

“Mhmm. I eat that shit up.”

You’ve been trying not to look at his face for too long. If you look at Aegon, you’ll start thinking about Aemond. 

You’ve been trying very hard not to think about Aemond.

They don’t really look alike, despite the matching hair and eye color. Though he’s sitting down you can tell Aegon has none of Aemond’s height. He’s soft whereas Aemond is sharp. Their mouths may be the most similar thing about them, both awarded beautifully pouty lips made to be kissed. 

“What’s on your mind, doc?” Aegon says, eyes narrowing.

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying, I’m very perceptive,” Aegon insists, “Come on tell me. What is it? Doctor drama? Boyfriend drama?” Your face must give something away when he asks, because his eyes light up, “Boyfriend drama.”

It’s no use, you can feel your face heating up, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Fuck off.”

Your head snaps up at him, and you remove the blood pressure sleeve. Discarding it in favor of your stethoscope you place the end against his chest.

“Breathe in.”

“D’you have a girlfriend then?” he relentlessly continues.

“No.”

“A fuck buddy?”

“Hells,” you mumble in frustration, trying to listen to his heartbeat. 

“Please tell me it isn’t my nephew,” Aegon says, making a face.

“What?” you answer, far too quickly, “No! Seven hells, Jace and I are friends! And I do not sleep with colleagues.”

“Everyone sleeps with colleagues,” Aegon argues, “How else do you meet people?”

“That working well for you?”

“Oh I don’t work,” he answers, “That’s boring.”

You choke back a laugh. The man truly is ridiculous.

“Alright then. Well, you’re all set once you’re done with your fluids we’ll check your vitals again and send you on your way,” you tell him, making a note in his chart, “I can have the nurses reach out to some detox programs if you’re interested.”

“I’m not.”

“Look, I understand a bit of your history from what Jace shared. But you should know, recovery isn’t linear, and relapse is completely normal-”

“I haven’t relapsed.”

You blink. 

“Your BAC was 1.06,” you inform him, “That’s more than a little buzzed.”

“I haven’t had a drink since Nyra birthed her last gremlin,” he insists, not elaborating on who Nyra was, “I’m just like this.”

Your eyebrows knit together. He could be lying, you know that. Addiction is one hell of a disease. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groans.

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t believe me.”

You’re silent for a moment, just staring into his violet eyes. 

“Your blood--”

“Fuck the labs,” he groans, “They always come back like that. I haven’t taken anything. I haven’t drank anything. Believe me, I’d be much more obvious.”

“How so?”

“Well for starters, a pretty little thing like you wouldn’t be so far away,” he comments, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, “I don’t know why this happens. I think my body got so used to being fucked up, it just does it on its own now.”

“You’re being serious,” you comment, and he nods.

It goes against everything you’ve learned in med school, and in residency thus far. Your pager beeps and you glance at it. It’s Nettles. You’re supposed to be joining her soon. 

When you hear hooves, think horses, not zebras. 

You chew your bottom lip. Aegon raises a brow, already looking better with the intake of fluids. 

Fuck it. 

You quickly page Nettles, and let her know you’re needed longer in the pit. Hopefully, Baratheon doesn’t kill you for this. 

We’re going with the zebras. 

“Okay so I’m going to send the sample to the lab and see what comes back,” you inform Aegon, “And if you’re being honest with me, we should have some answers for you.”

Aegon swings his legs over the side of the bed. 

“Why would I lie?”

You want to roll your eyes, but you’re sure if you do in his presence once more they’ll fall out of your skull. He gives you a cheeky grin as he notices your exasperation. 

“People lie all the time,” you tell him.

“To you?” Aegon asks, snatching your hand is his, “Never, princess.”

You hear Nettles suddenly, her voice flowing through the ER and your stomach turns. Surely, it's Dr. Baratheon coming to reprimand you for missing observation to spend time in the pit ‘trolling for surgeries.’ The curtain opens then, and to your horror, it’s Aemond who has discovered you rather than Dr. Baratheon. 

His eyes fall to your face first before he turns to Aegon. His gaze drops to your interlocked hands. Something washes over him, his expression cold and calculating. 

“Out,” he says, voice quiet as death. 

Aegon chuckles, but you can hear the nervousness he’s trying to hide. You can see it in the way he wets his lips, the way he pulls his hand from yours.

“Bro…”

“Out, now,” Aemond repeats, “Don’t make me drag you out in front of all these people.”

“Careful now,” Aegon says, standing, “you know how mummy feels about you getting your hands dirty--”

Aemond steps forward, hands fisting Aegon’s shirt and dragging him forward. Your eyes widen in shock and Nettles yelps as Aemond pushes past her, dragging Aegon with him. 

The display has gathered the attention of several nurses and patients as Aemond continues to drag him through the ambulance entrance and out the automatic doors. You and Nettles remain closely on their heels as they exit the hospital.

Aemond releases his hold, sending Aegon stumbling into the road. 

“Seven hells!” Nettles says, a shocked expression on her face. 

Aegon laughs maniacally, bending over with his hands on his knees. He shakes his head several times, like a dog before looking up.

“Go home,” Aemond says, flexing his hand.

“Where’s that?”

“Wherever you’ve been staying I suppose,” Aemond quips.

Aegon is panting, staring at his brother.

“I’d like to see Helaena.”

“That’s not happening.”

“Helaena!” he yells at the sky, “She’s my sister, I know she wants to see me.”

“You’re not shaking her down for any more fucking money,” Aemond says, his voice louder this time, making you flinch, “Go home, Aegon.”

Aegon wets his lips, running a hand through his hair. His eyes meet yours. 

“You’ll call me? With the results?” he asks, and Aemond snorts.

“Another STI screening?” Aemond snarks. 

Aegon’s tongue pokes his cheek, an angry smile on his face. 

“Gotta make sure I’m all clear before saddling up with a fit bird,” he taunts, eyes falling on you as he says it, grabbing his crotch for emphasis. 

Aemond lurches forward his hand connecting with Aegon’s cheek. Nettles and you both scream as Aemond jumps back, Aegon spitting a mix of blood and saliva on the ground. He laughs again, smiling with bloody teeth. 

“Get him cleaned up and get him out of here,” Aemond instructs Nettles, before heading back inside and leaving the three of you standing there.

Aegon’s lip is split, along with a cut on his cheekbone. He spits again, wiping his face and nodding at you.

“No boyfriend eh?” he says, grinning. Your face flushes. 

“I wasn’t lying.”

His grin widens.

“One of us is,” he says, referencing your earlier conversation, “Guess we’ll find out who.”

Nettles approaches him, and he winces. She turns to you.

“You should go see if he’s okay,” she says, nodding to the doors. 

You run back inside leaving Nettles and Aegon, your eyes searching for Aemond. Hurrying to the nurses' station, they inform you which direction he took off in. A nervous sweat breaks out on the back of your neck as you hurry down the hallway. You spot him then, taller than everyone else, watching as he ducks into an on-call room. 

Quickening your pace you follow him inside. It’s quiet as you close the door, besides the sound of a noise machine echoing white noise in the dimly lit space. There are two beds in this room; truly the on-call rooms are in such sorry states. Small twin mattresses with paper-thin sheets and pillows that may as well be pieces of foam. 

Aemond sits on the bed to the left, his head resting in his hands. You close the blinds on the door, flipping the sign that says “Both Beds Occupied” along with flicking the lock. You don’t think he’ll want to be disturbed.

“Aemond,” you say softly. He doesn’t move. The knuckles of his right hand are bloody. 

Taking a step closer, you watch his shoulders rise and fall with the deep breaths he’s taking. Anxiety churns in your stomach, and you take a step back, placing your hand on the handle of the door.

“I’ll just leave you--”

“Don’t,” Aemond speaks quietly for the first time, raising his head. His gaze softens, his eyes somewhat glassy. “Please don’t go.”

Your heart starts to race, but you nod, stepping back toward him. Sitting beside him the bed creaks; you cross your ankles and place your hands on the edge of the bed. Aemond rests his chin on his hands, arms propped on his knees. The pair of you sit in silence for several moments. It begins to rain outside, fat droplets of water beating against the window. 

“You should get that looked at,” you finally say, nodding at his hand. 

Aemond merely hums in response, flexing his fingers. 

“Seriously, you’re a surgeon,” you continue, “What are you thinking, throwing punches like that?”

Aemond glances at his hand, curling and uncurling his fingers, “He brings out the worst in me.”

“Your brother.”

“Mhmm,” he answers, shaking his hand. It’s not as bad as it looks, thankfully. He could have done some serious damage.

“I’m sorry. Jace told me…well I’m just sorry.”

“It’s alright. Someone has to treat him. I’m sorry if he was inappropriate to you.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, “We don’t get to choose how patients behave.”

“Aegon can be a lot. Take it from someone who knows him rather well.”

“Noted.”

You sit in silence some more. The sky outside has begun to turn dark as clouds roll in, the sound of thunder audible in the distance. A storm is looming.

“I’ve missed you,” he says so softly you almost don’t catch it.

Your hands dig into the side of the bed, your heart pounding against your ribs making your chest feel painfully tight.

“Don’t-”

“Y/N..”

“Please Aemond,” you cut him off, eyes watery, “Please. Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I do mean it,” he insists, turning his head toward you, “It’s just…Y/N that day I didn’t give you an answer. And you deserve one. I like you. I like you so much. You’re an incredibly intelligent person, funny, adorable, and…” he trails off, shaking his head slightly as he chuckles to himself. 

“And what?”

“And that scares the shit out of me. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. I wasn’t expecting you. When I moved here I just planned on keeping my head down and then….then there was you,” he looked away, his eyes lit up in wonder, “I saw you in that bar, and it was like the sun came out.” 

Your lips part, your stomach flutters pleasantly at his words, and goosebumps erupt on your skin. He glances at you shyly, the tips of his ears tinged pink.

“And then I saw you here and you’re an intern, at the beginning of your residency I just….I mess things up. I don’t want to mess things up for you. Or with you.”

You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers through his, “Okay.”

“But…I miss you. I miss talking to you, kissing you,” Aemond continues, the top of his cheeks turning pink, matching his ears, “You asked me if I’m in or out. I didn’t answer, and I should have. I’m all in.”

“Aemond…”

“If you’ll have me,” he adds, “If you…if you want to give this a try.”

You smile at him softly.

“It’s all I wanted from the start.”

Aemond smiles, leaning toward you and connecting his lips to yours. You sigh against his mouth, as his hand snakes around the back of your neck, keeping you from going anywhere. His tongue runs along the seam of your lips, and you part them eagerly accepting the warm muscle into your mouth. 

Your hands bury themselves in his scrubs as he turns his head, deepening the kiss. His opposite hand reaches for your waist, sliding down to rest on the meat of your thigh. He rubs soothing circles there for a moment, before gripping you hard and pulling you on top of him. 

You straddle his waist as he scoots backward, pressing his back flat against the wall. He breaks the kiss for only a moment, tugging your blue scrub top over your head, before desperately chasing your lips once more. Shivering in the cool air, your nipples harden in your bra. You almost wish you’d worn something a little sexier, the plain black bra making you feel underdressed. 

Aemond eyes your tits like a madman as his skilled hands eagerly unclasp your bra, pulling it from your torso. 

“Should we be doing this--” you gasp, grinding against the hardness between his thighs. 

“Yes, yes we should,” he says, kissing you once more before pausing, his eyebrows knitting together, “Unless you don’t want..”

“No! I mean--fuck, yes, yes we should and I want to,” you whimper as his teeth graze against your neck, “But I mean, here…” Aemond continues his attention to your neck, his perfect mouth nipping and sucking the sensitive skin.

“No one’s coming,” he murmurs, “You locked the door, yes?”

You nod, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, groaning as you clench your fists, tugging at his hair.

He catches your lips once more and you arch your back, pressing yourself against him trying to get as close as humanly possible. Moaning against his mouth he chuckles softly, the sound reverberating against you. 

“Shh,” he croons, brushing some hair from your face, “You have to be quiet.” He nips your lower lip as he says it, smoothing his tongue along where he bit, “Something you have trouble with, I recall.”

Your cheeks warm at the memory of your first night together, the puddle he’d turned you into with such little effort. Lashes fluttering, you look up at him as he admires you.

“You’ll have to remind me,” you tease, earning a growl from him as he flips you onto your back beginning to pull your scrub pants from your body.

Eager to assist, you kick wildly trying to get the soft material off. Aemond catches your right calf in his large hand, trying to avoid being kicked.

“Careful,” he chuckles, pressing a hot kiss to your calf, helping you out of your scrubs, shoes, and underwear. 

“Sorry,” you manage to say through your giggles as he tosses the ball of clothes toward the opposite bed, “We’re a bit uneven now, wouldn’t you agree?”

Grinning, Aemond pulls his scrub top from his body as thunder crashes outside. The sky has darkened considerably and lightning flashes, illuminating the room. Aemond’s hands travel up your calves, hooking against your knees as he cocks an eyebrow at you. 

“Better?”

Your eyes trace down his exposed front following the planes of his chest, the chiseled outline of his abdominal muscles. You swallow, feeling yourself clench as your gaze rests on the outline of his hard bulge.

Nodding, you take your lower lip between your teeth, dragging your gaze back to his face. Aemond’s breathing is heavy as he sits on his haunches, eyes raking down your naked body.

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he breathes appreciatively, “Gods…” He lets one hand move up your body, fingers dancing against the skin of your waist, up the side of your ribs to your breast. He explores higher and higher until with a desperate whine you reach up pulling him toward you.

You could kiss him forever.

You want to kiss him forever. 

The hand that rests on your leg curls inward, stroking the soft flesh of your inner thigh before inching higher. Your breathing has started to turn to pants as Aemond lets one of his long fingers part through your silky folds, spreading your arousal. 

“Seven hells,” he groans, swirling his finger against your clit, “All this for me?”

“Mhmm,” you tell him, biting your lip and trembling against him already.

Aemond only smirks, that familiar look of confidence in his eye, “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” you tell him, as the tip of his finger sinks inside of you, “Fuck-- just for you.”

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, pushing further inside of you, stretching you out on his forefinger. A second finger soon joins and he scissors the digits against your fluttering walls.

You’re trying to be quiet---really you are trying--- but it feels too good. He’s too precise with his movements, too insistent on bullying that sensitive rough patch that causes your eyes to roll back in your head. “Aemond…I can’t--”

“Shhh baby, I know, it feels too good to be quiet, huh?” he says, voice full of mock sympathy, “Don’t worry, I’ll make you cum really quick, let me take care of you, yeah?”

You nod furiously, a choked moan escaping you as Aemond presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Moving away from you, he keeps up his relentless pace with his fingers as he slides onto his stomach on the bed. Your eyes widen as Aemond glances up at you from between your legs, a cheeky smile on his handsome face. 

“Aem----oh fuck!” your concern is short-lived as Aemond presses his mouth against you.

His tongue traces lazy circles over your clit, groaning, “Hells, I missed this sweet little pussy,” he mumbles, taking the sensitive button between his lips and suctioning around it. 

Throwing your head back against the pillows, your back arches, and your mouth opens in a silent scream. The rain continues to pour outside, the drumming against the window matching that of your racing heart. 

“Oh yeah, I know that’s so good, huh?” Aemond mumbles between licks of your clit, his free hand snaking upwards to grope at your breasts, “Fuck you look so pretty…all whiny and desperate.”

He curls his fingers as he says it, massaging the tender spot inside of you causing your pussy to spasm against his fingers. His tongue traces nonsensical patterns around your clit, his lips sucking and releasing causing lewd wet noises to echo through the room.

“Next time,” he murmurs a quiet promise, “Next time, when I’ve got lots of time…we’ll see how long I can keep you like this.” His fingers pinch your right nipple, tweaking it harshly.

Your belly tenses, muscles constricting against his fingers as he returns his sweet torture on your clit, and you finish with a muffled sob as you turn your head, pressing your mouth against your shoulder. Aemond murmurs soft praises, talking you through your orgasm as your legs shake around him. 

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” you hiss through your teeth as he slowly pulls his fingers from your fluttering pussy, bringing them to his mouth. 

You watch, wide-eyed as he sucks the lengthy digits, moaning at the taste of you.

“Turn around baby,” he says, sitting up, “Put your face in the pillow.”

Shakily, you turn on your hands and knees, before letting yourself fall to your forearms. Aemond slides his hand down your back, admiring the curve of your spine, spreading your cheeks wide. 

“Goddamn,” he murmurs, slapping your cheeks, causing you to yelp, “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re an ass man?” you tease, looking back over your shoulder.

“I’m a ‘you’ man,” he argues, grabbing his length and sliding it against your folds, “Now be a good girl, and let me take care of you.” The fat head of his cock pokes at your entrance.

“Please,” you breathe as he starts to slide in. Aemond pauses, groaning slightly.

“Fuck baby, you can’t say that all sweet right now,” he growls, “We don’t have time.”

“Please, put it in,” you whimper, cheek pressed against the pillow, drool forming a wet patch under your cheek.

Aemond’s hand cracks down on your ass once more, “Be a good girl you little brat.”

You whimper, your begging ceasing as he slides fully inside your tight, wet heat. The stretch of his fingers was nothing compared to his thick cock. Your walls tense around him, pulsating around his thick length as he bottoms out. Rocking backward, he slides nearly all the way out before thrusting back in. 

Electricity bursts through your veins, pleasure crackling through your limbs like the lightning outside of the window. The force of his thrusts sends your face deep into the pillow, muffling the sharp cries of pleasure you emit. You couldn’t stop if you wanted to, it feels too fucking good, the head of his cock rubbing ceaselessly against your g-spot as he ruts against you; he’s grunting softly, muttering praises all the while, his fingers digging into your hips. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as your knees slide down, legs shaking so bad you’re unable to keep them upright, “It’s okay baby, just relax I got you.”

Your legs bend against the mattress, thighs splayed, hip flexors burning with the deep stretch it awards you. Aemond never relents, just continues to slap his hips against the softness of your ass, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out, in and out.

“Aemond,” you moan, “Fuck it feels--”

“Yeah?” he groans, “How’s it feel baby?”

“S-s’good, Aem, fuck, it’s so good,” you whimper, hands fisting the sheets, the bed shaking with every harsh thrust. 

The bed grinds against your sensitive nipples and clit sending sparks of pleasure burning through you.

“Gonna make this pussy feel so good,” he says, leaning some of his weight on top of you, his face next to yours, “Gonna take you home after our shifts, you’d like that, yeah?” His arms hold him up, propped on either side of your head. 

“Yes, fuck please,” you agree, turning your face, and feeling him press a kiss to your shoulder blade.

“Gonna have you ride my face,” he promises, dragging his nose between your shoulder blades, “Wanna make that pussy feel so good, till you can’t fucking take it anymore.”

“Fuck Aemond,” you shiver with delight at his filthy words, at the promise of a repeat of the first night you’d been together. A promise of more. 

“Missed you too much,” he murmurs against your shoulder, sending warmth pooling in your belly, “Need you close to me.”

“I missed you,” you whimper, “Fuck, need you so bad.”

“I’m all yours,” he says, nearly whimpering himself, “Fuck baby, you’re so tight, feel so good clenching around my cock.”

“Yeah?” you ask, lifting your head slightly, and glancing back through hooded eyes.

Aemond maneuvers himself, leaning to capture your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss as he continues to pound into you. 

“Fuck….c’mon baby, one more time,” Aemond encourages as heat winds a tight coil of pleasure in your belly, “Can’t have my baby only cumming once, now can I? Come on, that’s a good girl.”

The pitch of your cries increases and you slam your face against the pillow to muffle your strangled cry as your whole body tense, pussy constricting like a vice around his cock as you come. It’s intense, it burns with a brutal passion that paints stars behind your eyelids. 

Aemond’s thrusts become sloppier and with a few more slaps of his hips, you feel his cock pulsate inside of you and the warmth release of his cum filling you up. You turn your cheek from the pillow, your body tingling with the remnants of your orgasm as you suck in a breath. Gently, Aemond pulls out of you, peppering kisses down the length of your spine as he does so. 

You hum happily as he slides out, placing his hands under your thighs and maneuvering you out of the frog-like position you were previously in. Your hip flexors ache, but it’s a good pain--well worth being fucked into the mattress. Aemond turns you on your back, brushing some hair from your sweaty forehead. 

“Hey there,” he says softly. The room is quiet, the rain has stopped. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever walk right again,” you tell him with a content sigh, “but that aside, I’d say I’m more than alright.”

Aemond chuckles, thumb smoothing your cheekbone, making you lean into his gentle touch. 

“Hold on,” he murmurs, standing up, walking to the adjacent bathroom, and flicking on the light. 

You watch him walk away, admiring his ass. He’s got a rather nice one. You hear him turn the water on and a moment later he returns with a washcloth. Not trusting yourself to stand, you simply spread your legs and let him clean up the remains of your combined releases. Your hips jerk as he carefully brushes against your swollen clit causing him to release a breathy laugh.

Beep beep!

The noise snaps you both out of your post-coital bliss bubble and you hurry to find your clothes. Aemond reaches for his pager, desperate to get his scrubs on. 

Beep beep!

It’s your pager this time. Shit, Baratheon must be pissed. 

Both of you scramble, switching scrub tops as Aemond accidentally tries to put on yours, causing you to erupt into a fit of laughter that is only stopped when he grabs you by the waist and pulls you in for a heated kiss. 

“Stop, stop,” you beg, pushing against his hard chest, “Shit we have to go.”

“One more--”

“You’re insatiable--”

“Oh I’ll show you insatiable,” he says, lips tugging upwards in a smirk, “You just wait until tonight.”

Your cheeks burn as you yank on your bottoms, fixing your hair. Sex hair is not an option, not when Baratheon will be up in arms about your disappearance. Glancing at your pager, you read what it says before clipping it to your waist. 

“Okay, I gotta go,” you tell him, shoving your feet into your sneakers.

“Meet me in the lobby? When you’re done?” he asks, unable to hide his smile as you walk to the door on trembling legs.

“Okay,” you tell him, leaning forward, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “And we could get dinner?” 

“Anything you want,” he says, cupping your cheeks and kissing you again, “Anything” another kiss, “At” and another one, “all.”

You hum happily, placing your hand over his, your entire body warming with his affection.

“I’ll see you then,” you tell him, unwillingly pulling away and unlocking the door.

You leave first, Aemond leaving a few moments later. Watching as he fixes the collar of his scrubs, you find yourself beaming. Aemond turns, catching your eye before turning down the hall, a small smile playing on his lips.

Gods, this is going to be a long shift.

note: hope you liked it!! LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!

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#aemond au #aemond targaryen au #aemond targaryen fanfiction #prince aemond fic #aemond fanfic #aemond fic #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd au #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond one eye fanfic #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #modern!aemond #modern!hotd #aemond fluff #modern hotd au #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen #modern hotd

[hells-wasabii]

Lute headcanons? I don't think you've done her yet and I just love all the other things you've done

A/N: For those who like Lute, I definitely recommend going and listening to Jessica Vosk's cover of A Million Dreams. Hearing the voice of Lute sing something like that almost gave me whiplash.

Character: Lute

Type: Headcanons (Lute x reader, Fluff)

It takes a while for Lute to let her walls down around anyone, really. With Adam, he mostly just inserted himself in her life like he belonged there. But when it comes to love, Lute is more than a little reluctant. She views it as a potential weakness, and she refuses to be viewed as weak. 

But alas, the exorcist is drawn to you, it drove her crazy in the beginning. She did her best to ignore it, but she couldn’t get it out of her head. Adam had even called her out on it. He was pretty blunt about it too, outright telling her to just fuck and get it over with. That one didn’t particularly go over well.

She can be pretty protective of you too. Fiercely so. Even before you were in a relationship. Once, another exorcist had been talking shit about you, and the end result had been Lute being suspended for a week and the other angel unable to fly for two. Adam hadn’t been too pleased about having to bail her out of that one.

Even if she is confident in your relationship, she can still get a little jealous from time to time. Though, if you purposefully make her jealous, expect to pay for it later.

While the lieutenant might not necessarily mind PDA, it’s a hard no while she’s on duty. Though, I’m sure if you press her buttons enough while she’s on the job, she’ll grab you by the wrist and drag you off somewhere, before pushing you against the wall and kissing you hard.

Lute might be rough around the edges, but that doesn’t mean that she can’t be sweet. While she may not necessarily be one for grand gestures, she’ll still go out of her way to do these little things for you, like maybe leaving behind a couple of little notes for you. Sometimes it’s surprising you with your favorite food, or maybe even an impromptu date. Out and about she might act all tough, but behind closed doors she’s different. That’s not to say that sometimes that softer side will come out around others. It’s gotten her teased many a time by the other exorcists and Adam.

She can be pretty easy to fluster if you know what you’re doing too. Of course, she’ll be sure to return the favor and be entirely too smug about it too. And honestly, the smirk that tugs at her lips will only make your blushing worse. 

#hazbin hotel #hazbin imagine #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel x reader #lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute

[foli-vora]

gilded lily

pre/during-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

a/n: gif by moi. just me over here clowning around and hurting my own feelings lmaoo. we start off soft af, and then it all goes downhill very fast so enjoy the angst-fest! x

word count: 2.6k

warnings: brief mentions of potential pregnancy, graphic violence, blood/gore, violent murder (does it count as murder if they're a zombie? lmao), infected characters, heartbreak, mourning, angst angst angst - don't like, don't read. this does not have a happy ending.

note: this follows the general direction of the outbreak and how it unfolds in the show, it's not identical, but i'll still put a spoiler warning so yeah - consider yourself warned.

It’s a low buzz, a barely there ringing in your ears, settling in the background and never wavering despite your efforts to clean your ears and pop them. It draws your attention for most of the early morning you spend awake before the others, and it’s not until a body suddenly steps in the way of you staring vacantly at your reflection in the bathroom mirror that you even notice other things are going on.

Your eyes come to focus on Joel who stares at you expectantly, his brows raised at your silence.

“Oh, hi—sorry, what did you say?”

“You’re a bit spacy today… you feelin’ okay?” He mumbles around his toothbrush, his body brushing against yours as he leans back on the sink to face you.

A frown starts to pull at your features.

No, you’re not.

Something is definitely not right with the way you’re feeling, but you’re unable to put a proper label as to what. The flu? Food poisoning? All options that don’t seem to fit your particular… oddness.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

Your obvious struggle catches Joel’s attention and he’s quick to spit the frothy toothpaste from his mouth, washing it down the sink drain with a quick splash of water before turning his full attention on you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t—” you pause, staring deep into his dark eyes before letting your frown disappear and forcing a little smile, “—it’s nothing. I’m fine. Really, baby, it’s nothing.”

You aren’t going to do anything that could potentially disturb his birthday—you’d been looking forward to it for weeks. An assortment of wrapped presents hide away in the bottom of the dresser, and you know Sarah’s been buzzing to give him his watch you both had taken to get fixed a week prior.

His mouth opens, no doubt to give you a sharp word about closing him out, but Sarah soon appears in the doorway with a warm good morning and the subject is left at that. You tread after her down the stairs, leaving Joel to scowl lightly at your back as he follows along behind.

Tommy appears just as you’re serving up breakfast, his full plate already waiting in your hand. His grin widens as he gives you a sweet kiss hello on your cheek before snatching the plate with an amused, “Am I that obvious?”

“You don’t want me to answer that,” you reply cheekily, your wide smile faltering when you struggle to open the bottle of pain relief.

“You okay?” He asks around a mouthful of eggs, eyeing the pills you pop into your mouth and swallow down with a mouthful of orange juice.

“Yeah, just not feeling the best today.”

“Are you pregnant?” He asks blankly, picking at the food on his plate as his eyes dart to your stomach.

His question immediately perks Joel’s interest, his hand holding the coffee pot hanging suspended over his mug as he shoots you a look from the corner of his eyes. His thoughts are plain as day—shit… are you?

Sarah perks at the table, the excitement already creeping into her features and you’re quick to cut in before she could get too ahead of herself.

“No,” you chuckle, poking Tommy’s side, “but thank you for the early morning freak out.”

Joel makes a little noise of thought, his rasp coming from around the mug he presses to his lips, “Would it be so bad if you were?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur softly, unable to keep a smile tugging at your cheeks, “would it?”

He shrugs, the barely there trace of a smirk playing along his lips as he nurses his coffee, “I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

Tommy pipes up with a comment, his voice thick and far away, morphing in your ears until a shrill sound fills your mind, piercing your senses.

That goddamn ringing.

A wince pinches your features and you rub at your temples, willing the ache slowly building there to dissipate. A numb tingle grows over your fingertips, merely intensifying when you rub them together to will some feeling back into the pads.

“Honey?”

Snapping out of a sudden trance like state, you blink wildly as your eyes refocus on Joel and how he’s suddenly in front of you.

Heavy frown deepening, his hands come to cup your cheeks, tilting your head up and side to side. He studies your eyes, noting the strangely vacant look swirling in them and how you seem to struggle finding words.

Sarah shares his concern, stepping up next to him and curling a warm hand around yours.

“Dad, maybe you should take her to the hospital—”

“Yeah… yeah, I think I will. Baby, could you go get her jacket—”

“Don’t be silly,” you breathe, shaking your head and fighting the fog creeping along the corners of your mind. “I’m not sitting in the ER on your birthday, and besides you guys have a lot of work to do today. It’s probably a migraine, or something—I’ll just sleep it off.”

Tommy doesn’t seem all that convinced, his frown mirroring his brothers as he looks at you from over Joel’s shoulder.

“Are you sure? Coz you don’t look too good—work can always wait.”

“I’ll be fine,” you grin, delivering a firm smack to Joel’s ass, “you’re gonna be late—off you go, birthday boy. The sooner you go, the sooner you can come back and get your birthday presents.”

Joel’s jaw tightens, “You call me if anything changes, y’hear?”

Nothing changes, but nothing gets better.

You call into work after dropping Sarah off at school, explaining your sudden illness and confusion quickly forming when they say you’re not the first—a few of your co-workers had called in also. Something’s going around, they say.

There are reports everywhere.

The day passes quickly with you sleeping on the couch, hoping that whatever is plaguing you will pass by the time Joel gets home from his double. You wake to find Sarah hovering over you with a glass of water and a smile that barely hides her worry.

“How are you feeling?” She asks quietly, helping you sit up and tucking herself into the couch next to you.

“Better,” you lie, the smile on your lips forced.

If she doesn’t believe you, she doesn’t make it known. 

You spend the evening cuddled with her on the couch, barely focusing on the shows that come and go. Time blurs together, the hours melding and dragging.

Somewhere inside of you, you feel something’s wrong. Badly wrong. Something’s not right. You start to twitch, random muscles in your body jumping at the most random of times.

At one point, Sarah pulls away from where she cuddles into your side, her obvious worry deepening with your increasingly erratic movements.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—I must’ve trapped a nerve, or something,” you murmur through numb lips, watching the way your fingers and hand twitch almost as if through a skewed, blurry lens before giving the limb a little shake and smiling. “I’m fine.”

You’re not fine. You can feel it everywhere. Something’s happening. Where the fuck is Joel?

—

Everything is fucked.

People are being attacked everywhere, people are dying everywhere. Just getting slaughtered, right in the middle of the fucking street.

It’s mayhem.

It’s terrifying and he doesn’t have a chance to truly process the emotion. It makes no sense, no damn sense, but he doesn’t bother to stop and think about it. He can’t. He needs to move, you all need to move and get the fuck out of town.

Joel bursts through the front door, echoes of jets and explosions and sirens sounding in the distance behind him, his face set in rigid determination. He should never have worked so fucking late. 

“Girls, come on—” he roars, hoping the boom of his voice startles you both from sleep, “—in the truck, now!”

Sarah’s asleep and sprawled over the couch when he passes by the lounge, and he immediately goes for her, curling his fingers tightly around her shoulder and giving her a firm shake.  

“Baby? Baby, wake up—” 

Sarah blinks languidly, her face pinched and disorientated, but the sleep hanging in her eyes evaporates when a sudden explosion rattles the house. Her hands fly to clutch his arms, eyes now wide and filled with terror, darting to the window.

“What’s going on?!”

“Come on, we gotta go, baby, get up.”

She follows immediately, her hand not leaving his as he drags her outside. Tommy stands guard by the running truck, desperately trying to pull his lips into some sort of encouraging smile, but it comes across more as a grimace.

“What’s happening?” Sarah asks again, pausing when a familiar sound catches her attention. “Mercy? Mercy, here boy!”

Joel’s jaw tenses, his hands becoming increasingly more urgent as they shove her towards the vehicle, ignoring the frightened dog that bounds over to answer her familiar call.

“Sarah, get in the fuckin’ truck—”

“What about Mercy? We can’t just leave him outside, and what about—”

Tommy holds a calming hand out, his grip tightening on his rifle, “Joel’ll get her, and I’ll take him back, just get in—”

“You keep her in the truck!” Joel yells at his brother, turning away from them and running back towards the house, slamming his way through the front door, roaring your name again and again. He takes the stairs two at a time, marching straight for the bedroom only to discover you aren’t there.

Where the hell are you?

“Come on, honey, we gotta move—!”

A thud.

He spins for the bathroom, noticing the slither of light from under the door and immediately advancing towards it, hand reaching for the handle.

Locked.

He rattles it, hoping the weak thing would cave like it’s done so many times before. He knocks harshly when it holds firm, calling out your name, but a weight hitting the door sends panic through his system.

A weakened groan sounds through the timber and he shakes the handle again, his face creasing with worry. He doesn’t have a lot of time, none of you have a lot of time. He forces his shoulder up against the door and it soon gives way, shoving something heavy out of the way and slamming against the tiles.

“Honey, come—”

He stops, eyes finally taking in the form in front of him.

It’s you, but it’s not.

Ice creeps along his shoulders, hardening around his heart and sinking to the pit of his stomach. There’s something wild about your expression, an almost animalistic curl to your features. Your eyes have lost their usual warmth, their sparkle, now they’re feral, and locked right onto him. 

God no, not you.

“Honey, baby,” he utters, stepping back and desperately willing, praying, for the unfolding situation to change in front of his eyes, “it’s me—I can’t… god, don’t make me do this. Please wake up. Show me you’re there, do somethin’—“

A guttural cry that barely sounds human tears its way out of your mouth and you lunge for him, hands poised ready to grab onto him. He evades your attack and dives into Sarah’s room, swiping one of her participation trophies from her drawers and barely able to turn before a weight hits his side and takes him down to the floor.

He curls a hand tightly around your throat, keeping your rabid, snarling face away from his and strikes. The marble base of the award meets your skull with a sickening crunch, but he doesn’t stop, his arm soon aching from the brutal force he puts behind each hit and causing blood to rain down over his face. He doesn’t stop until he feels the strength behind your hands vanish. 

The sticky red substance coats the trophy and he lets out a sob as your body falls to the floor in an unmoving heap beside him. He throws the makeshift weapon away from him as his chest heaves, the heavy thud of it hitting the floor suddenly so loud in the now still house, and rolls onto his side, taking in your still form before carefully crawling closer.

He reaches out, placing a trembling hand against the part of your bloodied face he could see through the destruction, sick at how cold you feel and the way your thick blood coats his skin. His thumb brushes over your cheek, tracing the swollen veins lying beneath and he chokes on a cry.

“I’m so—fuck, honey, I-I’m so sorry—”

Remorse rolls through him in waves until it fills every vein, runs along every nerve. He should’ve been here. He should’ve done something. Was there even anything he could have done? Could he have saved you from any pain? Were you alone and scared? What were your last thoughts? Did you know what was happening? Is that why you were locked away?

“Joel?!” Tommy shouts from somewhere in the house, and it’s enough to tear him away from your body and the grief overwhelming him.

“Don’t let her up here!” He yells back, listening to Tommy quickly stop Sarah from climbing the stairs.

She couldn’t see this. She couldn’t remember you like this, mangled and bleeding out on her bedroom floor where you both had spent so much time reading over magazines, painting each other's nails and giggling over shitty TV shows. He wouldn’t let those memories be stained with the blood of the mother she had found so much comfort in, tainted by the monster that had become of her.

He takes one final look at you, smoothing a hand along your hairline and avoiding the caved in shattered bone only a few centimetres from his touch. Nausea rolls through him, hot acid bile rising in the back of his throat as he backs away from your body and stands on unsteady legs.

His hand flies out to rest against the wall as he stumbles back, eyes not leaving your twisted features and broken body. Eventually you fade from view once he rounds the corner and he turns for the stairs, his heart thundering in his chest.

Sarah sees him first, Tommy busy eyeing the windows and keeping his weapon at the ready.

“Is she sick?” She asks, noticing the obvious emptiness behind him.

Joel feels his shoulders deflate, stepping down the final steps and giving a solemn nod, “Yeah. Yeah, she was.”

The use of past tense brings a thick wave of emotion over his daughter's face, and his broken heart shatters even more. He tries to wipe the blood, your blood, from his hands, dragging them down the legs of his jeans and it catches her attention, her face creasing with anguish.

“You killed her,” she mumbles, tears filling her lash line as her eyes dart across his face.

He swallows the thick pressure in his throat, ignoring the look of sympathy his brother gives him and steps up to his daughter, holding back his own tears as hers spill over her cheeks.

“I did,” he returns quietly, “I did. I’m so sorry, baby—”

She softens when he reaches for her, his arms tightening around her and squeezing. Her lower lips wobbles with the effort of keeping her emotions at bay, her fingers tightening around his shirt as he curls around her. She shakes in his hold.

“The Adler’s were sick, too,” she whimpers into his shoulder, “are we sick?”

“No baby. No, we’re not sick,” Joel pulls away, cupping her cheek with a sticky hand and keeping his gaze steady with hers, “but we’ve gotta be brave, okay? We’re gonna be fine, but we’ve got to go.”

“We shouldn’t leave her behind—” she whimpers quietly, another stream of tears falling down her cheeks.

“We have to, baby girl. We have to, I... I’m not gonna lose you, too.”

-

everything pp: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80​, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21​, @eri16​, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes​, @ezrasbirdie​, @mstgsmy​, @lovesbiggerthanpride​, @coaaster​, @sherala007​, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44​, @wyn-n-tonic​, @you-got-me-starry-eyed​, @shirks-all-responsibilities​, @withasideofmeg​, @harriedandharassed​, @andruxx​, @buckybarneshairpullingkink​, @spideysimpossiblegirl​, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future​, @tanzthompson​, @mad-girl-without-a-box​, @hope-for-the-best-98​, @fangirl-316​, @christina-loves​, @jediknight122​, @hallway5​, @xoxabs88xox​, @nicolethered​, @churchill356​, @massivecolorspygiant​, @just-here-for-the-moment​, @gracie7209​, @pinkie289​, @lavenderluna10​, @goodgriefitsawildworld​, @juletheghoul​, @punkerthanpascal​, @itswanktime​, @karolydulin​, @pedrostories​, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch, @omlwhatamidoinghere​, @cannedsoupsucks​, @chaoticemz, @hows-my-hair​, @alexxavicry​, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist​, @outercrasis​, @thisshipwillsail316​, @toxicfrankenstein​, @hotchlover​, @ew-erin​, @mishasminion360​, @jitterbugs927​, @penelopeimp​, @woodland-mist​, @pedro-pastel​, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell​, @1andthesame​, @elegantduckturtle​, @captain-jebi​, @magpie-to-the-morning​, @sharkbait77​, @sleep-tight1​, @musings-of-a-rose​, @Karlawithacapitalk, @woomen23​, @frasmotic​, @songsformonkeys​, @loonymagizoologist​, @aynsleywalker​, @ruhro7​, @bluestuesday​, @what-iwish-you-knew​, @princess-djarinn​, @totallynotastanacc​, @girlofchaos​, @pjkimrn​, @bangaveragewhitewine​, @trickstersp8​, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate​, @ms-loverman-066​, @bunniwarrior, @detectivecarisi-1​, @tintinn16​, @iceclaw101​, @bport76​, @thatpinkshirt​, @tusk89​, @withakindheartx​, @curiouskeyboard​, @pedropascalsx​, @sirpascal, @racetrackheart, @patisseriel, @timpletance​, @titabel, @xdaddysprincessxx​, @dnxgma​, @astronomeoww​, @dindjarinswhore, @alwaysdjarin​, @mando-amando​, @mx-ferelden​, @trinkets01​, @jxvipike​, @thesmutslut​, @thereisaplaceintheheart​, @scentedthingtidalwave​, @mwltwo​, @loveslide​, @artsymaddie​, @untitledarea​, @sukunababe​, @emiemiemiii​, @your-slutty-gf​, @wisecolornight​, @emilianamason​

joel miller: @jujuliaispunk

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

[keeksandgigz]

thinking of eddie helping you braid your hair when you’re getting ready to spend the night

made this about eddie and witchy because i cannot stop thinking about them- this is also for the anon who said they can't stop reading it (thank u hehehe)

fluffy fluff below the cut, witchy being jealous and thinking of hexing his exes <3

He had to drag you into his apartment.

In a hilarious turn of events, due to some kind of San Francisco strike, all metro routes were suspended and there was no way you were going to walk in heeled boots all the way to Twin Peaks.

"Why call an Uber, baby? You can literally come upstairs at mine" Eddie says, watching you huff as you read over the e-mail about the strike.

"No Eddie you don't understand. I need to be home. I have a whole ritual! And silk pillowcases! Why can't you just drive me?" you whine, hoping he'll fold to your requests like he always does.

He grabs you by the shoulders, giving you a tender look.

"Because, my lovely witchy, metro routes being down means there will be absolute pandemonium in the streets. And I'm not trying to stay fifteen minutes stuck in downhill traffic" he laughs as you follow him around the store.

He's still working, you got off an hour before and after walking around the vintage stores for an hour there wasn't much else to do. It's just him in the record shop, working the closing shift. You follow him around trying to convince him to drive you back as he puts back the vinyls in the milk crates, folds band t- shirts, and rearranges patches in the display case.

"C'mon, witchy, just go up. I have Chinese takeout from last night or spaghetti if you wanna cook, I'll stop by the hair place across the block to get you a silk pillowcase. Promise" he says, leaning over the counter to kiss your forehead he opens up the cash till.

"But Ed-" you whine, you've never slept outside of your apartment before.

"No buts, I'm sorry witchy. Now get your cute butt out of here, I've got money out" he says, puckering his lips, ready for a kiss.

You lean over the counter and give him a quick kiss before he hands you the keys to his apartment.

"Don't forget to call Lorraine to get her to feed Circe!" he exclaims before you're out the door. You roll your eyes, of course you'll call Lorraine, your neighbor, if Lorraine existed.

But he doesn't have to know you can feed Circe with a snap of your finger whenever you forget to leave food out in the morning.

So you groan and you go through the backdoor of the store to reach the small, dingy courtyard of his apartment. Second floor, apartment 5C.

This building is so old it doesn't even have an elevator. You reach the door and open it, the rattle of keys falling over the counter is the only sound that can be heard, along with the clack of the short heels of your boots.

You take your shoes off and go through his fridge. Day- old Chinese takeout, a carton of eggs and milk. Three cans of Sierra Nevada, a half- drunk bottle of Coke Zero. You open his freezer.

Honey walnut shrimp and fried rice from Trader Joe's, a bottle of vodka, and a tub of ice cream from the last time you were craving it.

You roll your eyes and pick up the phone.

"Hey Ed, you have jack shit in your fridge. Can you stop by the Greek place down the block? I’ll have a gyro with chicken and falafel on the side” you request, hearing his groan at another chore he has to do post closing.

“Baby the Chinese food in the fridge is pretty good, it’s from the place we always go to” he’s not very convincing, but he’s tired and now lost count of the cash he was counting.

“‘kay i’ll put an online order for it so you just have to go pick it up, sound good?” you ignore him.

“Ugh fine but I better get, like, the biggest kiss in return.“ he groans, but it’s true. He is a weak, weak man when it comes to you. “Get me the pita wrap with lamb and fries, and lemme also get seasoned fries on the side. Thank you witchy, love you gotta go” he says, hanging up the phone.

So you order the food and then sneak in Eddie's bedroom to change into something comfortable. Getting rid of that fine line when clothes felt too much like clothes, the stitching pressing into your skin, the cuffs of your sweater feeling a bit too tight against your wrists, your jeans too tight on your legs.

So you venture in his closet and steal a pair of sweats and a ratty black t- shirt. One of his many. You go to the bathroom and notice there's no mirror. This dude.

So you tie your hair away from your face and use the nice face wash you got him- which you're sure he rarely uses- and wipe the makeup off your face. You go look for a clean towel, 'cause God knows you will not be wiping your face with the hand towel sitting on the rod on the wall.

After your face is clean you plop yourself on the couch and watch TV to pass the time.

Thirty- odd minutes later a rattling of keys startles you. Eddie walks through the door with his arms full of plastic bags. He places them on the counter.

"Hey witchy, I see you've made yourself at home?" he says, as you walk towards him and bury yourself in his arms. At least he smelled nice.

"Hmmm missed you, Ed" you mutter against the fabric of his t- shirt.

"You missed me?" you give a little nod, followed by a hum. His heart beats a bit faster, it's nice knowing you think of him when he's away.

"Aw, witchy. I missed you too, are you hungry?" he says, giving you a sweet kiss on the head as he detaches from your grip and reaches for the bag with the food, taking out the boxes.

"Also stopped by the hair place, got you that silk pillowcase and some shampoo and conditioner to keep here. Doubt you'll wanna use my three in one shit" he snickers, and you blush timidly. He's not sweet in the way that he'll kiss you in the middle of the street, but he is for sure sweet in the way he thinks about you an embarrassing amount of times a day.

"Thanks Ed, you didn't have to do that" you say, and he blushes, the boy tinges himself pink because you appreciate him.

"Y'know, anything for you" he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead as he brings the takeout boxes to the coffee table.

You follow him and plop down on the couch "I was watching 'Sex and the City' while you were gone" you explain, biting into your gyro.

"Was Samantha being her usual crazy self?" he doesn't even know who Samantha is, but he thinks it's funny to ask you every time. You giggle as he puts on a random show for you to watch.

After an episode Eddie stands up and stretches.

"I'm beat, I think it's time for bed" he says "c'mon, witchy"

You rise from the couch and follow him into the master bathroom.

“I have a toothbrush here for you, I kinda uh-“ from his tone you can tell he’s embarrassed “I got one for here the first time you came over, in case you ever, y’know, wanted to sleep over” he says sheepishly, while you wrap your arms around him.

He offers it to you, it’s pink. Your favorite color.

“Aw, Ed. You’re so sweet, thank you” you say and you swear you can see him blush as you place a delicate kiss on his warming cheek.

This slice of domesticity taken away from the mystic vibe of your apartment really makes you wonder. It makes you think about a normal life, with him.

The way he washes his face like a madman (without face wash), letting the water wet his bangs instead of pulling his hair back, the way he ties his hair up before brushing his teeth.

You take the toothbrush out of your mouth "Ah shtill don' undestand why you don' have a mirrah" you sputter, mouth full as you spit the toothpaste in the sink.

"Why I don't have a mirror? Previous tenant broke it and my asshole landlord still won't fix it" he says, taking off his shirt. Your eyes linger on the lines of his back a little too long, bordering the line between looking and staring.

So you turn around and you try to braid your hair without a mirror, but to no avail, every strand seems to be three different sizes.

You groan in frustration as Eddie approaches you.

"Lemme help, witchy" he says, standing behind you and tending an arm out for a hair tie.

He divides the hair into three strands. Your hair is so soft between his fingers.

He wishes he could stall so that he could caress it for longer, but an impatient yawn escapes your mouth as his hands deftly get to work. Over, under, over, under-

"Where did you learn to braid hair?" you ask, feeling the way he softly holds each strand, making sure he's not pulling at your scalp. You don't see him, but a smile forms around his tongue, peeking out of his lips in concentration. Over, under.

"I had girlfriends before you, witchy. They taught me to braid my own hair" he chuckles, as you try to tune out the word girlfriends. Under, over, under.

He can see a pout form on your lips, he smiles.

"Why'd you need to braid your hair?" you huff, thinking of going on a spiraling rampage and hexing every one of his exes. Over.

"Well" he begins "one time, an ex braided my hair and it came out super curly, so I wanted to try it myself. Turns out it needs to stay in the braid for a while for that to happen" he shrugs.

Under, over, tie.

"All done," he announces, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Thanks, Ed" you examine the braid, flinging it over your shoulder "looks really nice" you say, and give him a small kiss at the corner of his mouth.

He gets himself into bed. His bed is oddly comfortable and his sheets smell of laundry detergent.

"I might have been washing my sheets every other day in case you wanted to sleep over" he confesses, blushing, as he lifts his arm, opening the warmth of his chest to you.

"You" you give him a kiss "are literally" another kiss "the sweetest guy" another kiss "in the history of always" last kiss.

He gets flustered when you call him sweet, because under the hardening exterior of black chains and shirts with exploding heads and hooded skeletal figures, there's just a sweet guy who loves you and wants you to like him for being himself.

"Just want you to, you know, have a good experience with me" he says, caressing your head.

"You get an 11/10 Yelp rating, can't recommend to anyone, though. You seem to be preoccupied with a really cool girl, and it seems it's going to go on forever" you giggle, as he smiles and gives you a kiss.

"Go to sleep, cool girl. Goodnight, love you" he says, before turning off his lights.

"Goodnight, Ed" you say, turning over so he can spoon you.

"You have to say it back" he whispers in the quiet of the dark room.

"Right, sorry. I love you too, Ed" you correct yourself and close your eyes, falling into one of the best sleeps you've ever had in your life.

The morning after, Eddie wakes up to his landlord bringing in a new mirror, his hair extra curled and all his exes blocked on his social media. But he doesn't have to know about that last one.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x witchy!reader #modern!eddie x witchy!reader #modern!eddie munson #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson au #eddie munson blurb

[shiftythrifting]

My brother and I found this knife/brass knuckles combo with spikes at a flea market for the low low price of $25. This is the knife I would bring to a gunfight.

We also found this jar of jellybeans suspended in liquid. It took us way too long to realize it was a candle and not just. Y'know. Jellybeans suspended in liquid.

#thrifting #shiftythrifting #submission #food suspended in shit #knives #flea market weapons

[kingofthe-egirls]

LOVE CONFESSION: LUFFY x Y/N

Summary: basically, y/n goes to Luffy’s cabin in the middle of the night to confess they have…needs they want him to fill ☠️

(cw: kissing, sex, fluff, haki, food mention)

(a/n: hi hi hi! it's been a while since i wrote a standalone fic. welcome back! i love him. so much. also my goal was to write over 2k words, which i did! proud of me proud of me luffy would also be proud of me)

Songs: "Green Light" by Lorde

words: 3.4k

You twist your fingers, hovering outside your captain's quarters.

He's snoring, quietly, you can hear through the door. Almost giving up, you roll in your lips and step back. The wooden deck creaks beneath your feet, and the snoring stops.

Shit.

"Whaddya need?" Luffy asks sleepily, hanging on the door with half-closed eyes. Pillow lines crease the side of his face with no scar.

This is stupid, you think. There’s no way he’ll say yes to this. He’s just affectionate with you cuz you’re his friend, he’s probably not even into sex in the first place—

“Y/n?”

Luffy asks you, tilting his scruffy head. His raven hair is all mushy from sleep. You want to weave your fingers in it and pull.

“So…,” you start, clearing your throat. Then, you lift your chin up and plant both your feet on the floor. You’re a Strawhat crew member, and “cowardice” is not in your vocabulary. “I want your help.”

Luffy purses his lips, curious. “Hm?” He asks, “Help with what?”

You look around furtively, glancing around the deck for any stragglers. Nope, seems like everyone’s gone to bed. You twist your lips.

“Can I come in?”

****

Now, you’re seated on the captain’s soft (messy) bed.

“Whaddya need, y/n?” Luffy is smiling at you with one big, warm hand on your knee. You’re both sitting crosslegged while the dark ocean waves crash outside. The moonlight trickles in like quicksilver through the porthole window.

“So…,” you start again lamely, face hot and fingers wrestling in your lap. “D’ya remember saying you’d help me with—anything?”

You gaze up at him, awkward as all fuck, to see him nod. “Course!” He boasts, hands balled into fists. His knuckles are blistered, still bruised from his latest fight. “I’ll help my friends with anything! ‘Specially if it’s you,” he leans in with a monkey’s grin.

You shy away, dazzled.

“Why won’t y/n look at me?” Luffy asks with a serious pout in his voice.

“Scared,” you whisper, knotting your hands into fists, yourself. He skims his fingertips over your knuckles, delicately tracing the veins along the back of your hand. His voice is soft, now, lower.

“Y/n is braver than anyone!” Luffy reminds you, ducking his head so you meet his eyes. They twinkle inside his sweet face. “Whatcha scared of, anyway?”

You snort, “Scared of you saying no to me.”

Luffy frowns. “Unless it’s food, I won’t say no!”

You shake your head. “Ya haven’t heard what it is, yet.”

“Don’t need to!” He blows up his cheeks, puffing out his chest like a peacock. You smile, and reach forward to ruffle his hair. You straighten it, a little. So it’s not smushed to one side anymore. He whines. “Tell meeeeeee!!!”

“Okay, okay, fine!” You throw your hands up into the air. Might as well say it: now or never.

You cross your arms.

“I need your help…,” you hedge, swallowing through a now-dry throat, “With cumming.”

He blinks. “Coming where?”

“In bed, Luffy.”

He sits for a second, before the lightbulb clicks. “Oh!” He grins, proud of himself, “You’re horny!”

“Ugh,” you drop your head in your hands. “Not just horny,” you admit miserably, “All I can do is think of you.”

He stops.

Breath hangs in the air, suspended for one, two, three—

“Like…when you’re in bed?”

He asks with his head tilted to the side, like a crow analyzing a puzzle.

You nod.

He grins: a slow, syrupy thing that engulfs half his face. He flicks his eyes up and down your form, with a heat you barely recognize. You shift, under his hungry gaze.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” He giggles, leaning forward to cup your jaw in his hand. “I can help ya with that,” he says, low. His voice is all gravelly, now that his lips are two inches from your face. You close the distance, eagerly.

Kissing Luffy is magnetizing.

You’re stuck in place: rooted to his lips by some inescapable force. Is that—is that his haki, pulling you in?

Red flickers at the edges of your vision, eyes half-closed from kissing him. He runs his hands up your arms, squeezing gently. He groans into your mouth.

“Tastes good,” he mutters, fingers going to card through your hair. You close your eyes at the sensation.

“Thanks,” you breathe, “You too.”

If it is his haki freezing you in place, you’re more than happy to comply. He must sense it somehow, because the overwhelming pressure loosens up, slightly. You giggle against his lips.

“Afraid I’ll run away?”

He bites his lip, caught. “Sorry,” he scratches the back of his head, “Never really done this before.”

“Really?” You ask, surprised. He kisses so well—you thought for sure he’s had at least some practice. You tell him as much, and he laughs.

“Nope! Just you,” he nuzzles into your face. “And myself, of course.”

“Of course,” you agree, running your hands through his hair. “I like kissing you.”

He beams, and wraps his arms around you. He lifts you into his lap, and rubs your hips against his clothed cock. You gasp at his daring.

“Wh-what did ya wanna do?” You ask, terrified. Luffy giggles, looking up at you with stars in his eyes.

“Whatever ya need.”

****

“Take whatcha need from me,” he murmurs, “Make yourself feel good on my cock.”

He is giving himself to you, wholly and completely, with no strings attached.

He rocks against you gently, hardness already poking your leg. You wrap your arms around him, and nod.

“Mkay.”

He grins, happy to help, and lifts you up to wrap your legs around his waist. He stumbles a bit, but makes his way over to the wall. He presses your back against the cabin wall, nosing into your hair. He places a kiss along your collarbone.

“Smells nice,” he whispers, rubbing his nose along your cheek. You shiver, wrapping your limbs around him tighter.

“Thanks, captain,” you whimper, already desperate and hungry with need. Luffy hums, readjusting himself so he can press his clothed cock against your heat. His eyebrow twitches as you moan.

“Hah, is that whatcha needed? Hm, pretty girl?” He tilts his head, rubbing his hips against yours. Your pussy spasms, involuntarily. You need him inside you, now.

“Mhmm,” you moan, letting your head thunk down onto his shoulder. He giggles.

“Shishishi,” he adjusts, lifting you up higher. He reaches down with one hand to unzip his shorts, and push your own panties to the side. “S’okay if I fuck you like this?”

You nod, uncontrollably shaking from desire. He takes pity on you, and slowly starts to press his cockhead against your entrance. You hiss.

“Fuck yes, Luffy—,”

“Captain,” he corrects, sharply, “It’s Captain Luffy, for you.”

“Yes, captain!” You breathe, letting your muscles melt in release. His cock pushes deeper inside you, and you moan. “More, please?”

“Hm,” he cocks his head, running a strong hand over your shoulders and down your arm. He nuzzles into your hand, pressing your palm flat against his cheek. He kisses your fingertips, before meeting your gaze with a wicked grin. “Have you been good for me?”

“Mhmm!” You nod, childish, wanting only ever more of him inside you.

Luffy, however, doesn’t mind teasing you and instead of fucking you hard he opts to keep stroking your entrance with his tip. He shoots spasms through you, and only giggles as your thighs quiver around his waist. He pecks a kiss onto the tip of your nose.

“Say please.”

You gasp, already teased past your fucking limit, and start babbling praises for your Captain Luffy to smile at. “Please, captain! Please captain fuck me, I need you so bad you’re so fucking hot pleasepleaseplea—,”

He cuts you off with a sharp thrust of his hips, your begging now a gasp as you feel all of him inside you at once.

“Fuck, Luffy!”

“Hey,” he frowns, pulling back to squeeze at your tit. He harshly thumbs at your nipple, and you hiss. “Bad girl.”

He starts fucking up into you hard and fast, catching your breaths with his mouth in sloppy, eager kisses. You moan, fluttering walls squeezing around the length of his hard cock. You never thought it would feel this good—

“Hey,” he commands, a strike of his haki flickering around the room. The lamplight goes out for a second, before coming back on. He bites at your neck, letting out a gruff moan. He slows his hips, now languidly thrusting into you at a maddening drawl. You whimper, banging loose fists against his shoulders.

“Captain…?” You beg, letting him see the pleasure in your half-lidded eyes. He regards you with a pirate’s smirk, eyeing you like a piece of golden treasure. You bite your lip.

“What is it, slut?”

Your mouth falls open, shocked. You stammer, trying unsuccessfully to find the words to describe the utterly ruinous sensation of having your captain (and best friend) call you such a dirty name. You wanna hear it again.

“Cmon, slut,” he gifts you with another title, “Speak up.”

All you manage is a groan, before needily whining a hazy, “Faster?”

He giggles, grinning at you like the devil, before speeding up his hips and slamming into you with reckless force. He bites his own bottom lip, gripping your ass with both of his strong, sure hands. A raspy moan leaves his lips, decorating the skin of your shoulder he breathes it into. You tighten your arms around his neck, letting him lazily lick the sensitive spot below your ear.

“S’good, baby,” he praises you, lifting up to claim your lips in another kiss. His cock is pulsing inside you now, all the veins and all the length helping push you toward a quivering orgasm.

He sees it on your face, feels it in your clenching walls, and laughs. “Atta girl!” He speeds up, smiling like hell as he rams into you from below. Your voice comes out cracked and broken, not caring who hears your screaming praises.

“Fuck, Lu—fuck, captain!” You somehow catch yourself in mid-orgasm, but not before he lands a surprisingly hard hit onto your rear as you gasp, and then whine, as you realize your cresting wave has passed you by.

Luffy slows down.

“How are you, baby?” He gently pulls out of you, letting your feet fall back to the earth. He steadies you with his hands on your shoulders, while you shift back and forth on wobbly legs. He ducks to make you meet his eyes. They’re grey, like clouds in morning light. You shake your head.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, all trace of his punishment gone. He tickles the sides of your face with his fingertips, sticking out his tongue in a funny face. He nuzzles at your nose, cooing little sounds of encouragement and praise, until you’re a giggling mess beneath him.

“There!” He says, proudly straightening up. He fixes his straw hat atop his head, from where it’d gone skewed while he fucked you.

“Thanks, Luffy.”

He frowns down at you. “We’re not done.”

Your face lights up, your forgotten orgasm still pulsing between your legs. Your clit is aching.

“Ya wanted Captain ta make ya cum, right? Have you cum yet?”

Sheepishly, you shake your head.

“What kind of captain would I be if I didn’t satisfy ya, hah?” He tilts his head, cheeky, before leading you back to the bed with one arm. He snakes it around your waist, setting you down gently with your knees spread.

He sits down with his face between your thighs.

You shiver, already nervous, before he pushes his hat back without ceremony, and dives into your cunt facefirst.

****

Licking and slurping sounds fill the captain’s quarters, the air now musky and filled with the scent of sex. The summer air clings to your skin, humid and muggy as Luffy eats you out.

“C-can we open a window?” You complain, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. It comes away slick with sweat.

Luffy kneels up, springing to the porthole without a second thought. You see his chin (and cheeks) glistening with slick, your own wet shining on his handsome face.

He opens the window, and blessed cool air wafts in with a breeze. You sigh, dragging your hands through ruined hair. Luffy waltzes back over to you, searing your skin with his fiery gaze. He licks his lips.

“Can I fuck ya again?”

You nod, pushing back on the bed to make room. He lies down on top of you, pressing your body into the mattress, held down firmly by his weight. You snuggle up under him, grinning softly. His mouth parts in awe.

“There it is,” he croons, leaning down to kiss your appled cheeks, “There’s my baby’s smile.”

You arch an eyebrow, trying to hide the butterflies in your chest. “Your baby?”

He looks up at you, confused. His half-hard cock is still poking you in the thigh. You wriggle, under him.

He places a hand on your hip, keeping you still. His eyebrows are furrowed down over his face. “Course,” he says, “Ya didn’t think I’d do this for just anyone, didja?”

You stare, wide-eyed and dumbfounded. “I-I thought you were just…being a good friend!”

Luffy frowns, still pressing down into you with his full weight. He supports himself with one elbow sinking into the mattress beside your head. He regards you with a deadly calm.

“Nuh uh,” he says, firmly shaking his head, “I wanna help you.”

You blink.

He strokes your temple with his thumb, softly smiling down at you. His voice is hoarse, as he whispers, “So, my flirting hasn’t been working after all, huh.”

You pause, already panic-stricken and out of breath from the turns in this conversation. You feel Luffy’s haki broiling behind his shoulder blades. You wonder if he’s going to sprout wings.

You reach up to stroke his forehead, delicately tracing the slight line of his widow’s peak. The dark hair is soft against your fingertips.

“You’ve been flirting with me?”

He pouts. “Been trying to…,” he purses his lips out like he’s embarrassed. You giggle: you can’t help it. He slaps your shoulder lightly. “Don’t laugh!” He complains.

“Sorry, sorry,” you shake your head, cupping his cheek with one hand. “You’re cute, is all.”

He grins, wide and ferocious, before leaning down to kiss you again. His tongue pushes past your lips, and you let him in. He tastes like you.

Your mouths slide softly together, moans creeping their way up your throats, and tumbling into the salty air of his bedroom.

“Like you,” he says, pressing his forehead into yours. His voice is raspy. Hoarse. He swallows. “I like you a lot.”

“I like you too, Luffy,” he closes his eyes at the sound of his name, and you hum. You trace your thumb below his cheek, softly squishing at his baby face. “You’re pretty.”

He kisses you again, beaming his gorgeous smile directly against your lips. You mmph! in surprise. “You’re pretty,” he corrects you, “But thanks!”

You giggle, charmed by his boyishness, and let him cuddle you into his chest as he pleases. Luffy smells like salt and cinnamon, and sorta like weed. You’ll have to ask him for a hit, later.

“Welcome,” you murmur, tracing your fingertips against his spine, still left bare from when you’d ripped his shirt off earlier. “Wanna fuck me now?”

“No,” he pouts, sitting up. He supports himself on one elbow, regarding you seriously. “I wantcha to be mine, first.”

“‘M yours!”

You blurt it out, no thoughts needed, before burying your face in his chest. He giggles, and wraps you in a double-rubber hug. “Mine!” He squeals happily, rolling you both over so you’re no longer beneath him. He lets you crawl over him instead, straddling his hips with your thighs. His arms are still double-wrapped around you.

You wiggle your hips into his a bit, smiling at his breathy moan. His fingertips stroke the soft skin of your back. You shiver, arching slightly beneath his touch. Luffy slowly unspools his limbs from around you. The ship rocks gently in the waves.

"How did you flirt with me?" You ask, basking in the afterglow of your unexpected (yet long awaited) tryst.

"Food...," Luffy trails off sheepishly. A slight honey blush tints his squishy cheeks. You poke at one, softly.

"Sharing your food with me was flirting?" You smile, beaming inside at the thought of how he's been handing you sly snackies at every meal. A drumstick here, a potato there, a cookie when Sanji wasn't looking. All affections you had accepted keenly and wholeheartedly: falling farther in love with your captain as you did. "I liked it," you admit. And then, softer, "Special."

Luffy grins. "So it did work!" He leaps off the bed, sending you careening off the side. He pumps both fists into the air, cheering himself on. "I was right!"

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter, pushing yourself off the floor. You're used to his antics, by now. "What else did you try?"

Luffy spins back around to you, grinning like a mad scientist. His torso is bare, and his shorts are still unbuttoned. They hang low around his hips, the sharp line of his V proudly disappearing into the waistband. "Sunsets!" He declares, fists on his hips in victory.

"I liked sunsets, too," you giggle, and motion for him to take your hand. You’ve thrown on your clothes again, haphazard shirt dress half-buttoned and uneven over your knees.

Luffy lets you lead him, following along after you onto the deck and onto the grassy lawn. Someone has a light on in the crow's nest.

Stars burst overhead, shimmering in their rivers of space-dust like silver ribbons. The midnight sky is deep indigo, and all the constellations Nami knows how to name twinkle like firelights.

You breathe in deep lungfuls of fresh, night air. The wind is cool and crisp, even in the summer. Fireflies flicker around the tangerines.

Luffy steps up beside you, squeezing your hand softly. He strokes his thumb along your knuckles, and you hum. "Sorry for not cumming," you say, staring at the stars.

Luffy tugs on your hand, and you stare at him, instead. His eyes are dark, hazy in the firelight. The campfire still glows red with embers.

"Sorry for what? Not your fault," he slips out, casually, "But I didn't cum either, so it's even anyway. Is that okay?"

He scuffs his heel on the ground, and you start walking along the edge of the grass. He skips a stray stone over to you, and you kick it down the way. It skitters across the lawn, bouncing a couple times, before landing at the base of the farthest tree. A firefly winks at its roots.

"Not like it was our last time," he grins at you, tugging on your hand. You skip a little, stumbling, but he catches you with one hand pressed to your lower stomach. His strength is terrifying.

"Careful, princess," he teases you, and you almost stumble again. As it is, you open and close your mouth like a fish. He snickers, fully pleased with himself. He swipes under his nose with his finger.

"Okay, king," you counter, trying to ruffle his hair, but he ducks out of the way. You don't miss the faint blush tinged on his cheeks, though.

"Shishishi, I like that!" He straightens up again, tugging on your arm to pull you away from the trees. His arm stretches out long, space elongating between you, before he snaps you back in to hold in his arms. He shifts you around so you're piggyback, and you giggle.

"Let's go steal something from the fridge," you whisper, and Luffy gasps in love and adoration. He turns over his shoulder to you with stars in his eyes.

"I love you," he says, unabashedly. You swallow, and nod.

"I love you too, Captain Luffy."

"Like, really really love you."

You snicker, burying your face in the bare skin of his shoulder. His arms flex from where they hold your thighs. "I really, really love you, too. 'M in love with you, Luffy." You stroke your fingertips along his chest, from where your arms are wrapped around his neck. His black hair tickles your cheek. He hefts you up higher in his arms, smiling with his eyes crinkled shut.

"Good! I'm in love with you, too. Sorry I didn't tell ya sooner."

"Me too," you mumble, and Luffy heads off to the kitchen, with you in tow.

****

#dumpster dive #my writing #one piece fanfic #luffy fanfic #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #luffy smut #luffy fluff #luffy x you #luffy fic #one piece smut #ough

[fashion-runways]

hi!! new pinned post, because the last one had gotten long again-- if you want to read previous posts, here's the first one, here's the second one. the tl;dr from those is that my dad got wrongfully imprisoned abruptly, our place was raided, the cops broke a bunch of shit and took a bunch of our things and still haven't returned them, they left all the broken things for us to spend money in repairing, we had to spend money on a lawyer, trips to visit him, new clothes, medicine and food for him in jail, etc. it was a mess, way more details in both posts. he's back home now, with an ankle monitor because technically his case isn't being investigated yet, they haven't done anything about it at all, the case hasn't moved one ounce lmao it's great, always trust the judicial system and cops!! ugh, anyway!

we found a therapist for my dad who can help her deal with all the stuff he had to deal with while in prison, all the bullying, the depression, the starving, the separation, etc. he needs to get a bunch of other medical appointments, has to get surgery, among other things, but for now things are much better on that front. that being said, he did lose his job and my old redbubble account got suspended without a warning months ago, plus argentina's economy is... really bad right now. food prices rise every day, public transportation prices went up like a 200% in a couple of weeks, salaries are low and stuck there, subsidies are gone, the local peso keeps falling, we have an absolute psychopath as a president who spends more time insulting or threatening anyone who oppose him than caring about people. it's a disaster. for updates on argentina in english, this person on twitter makes very good informative threads if you're interested.

anyway, i used to make around 30/40 dollars a month in redbubble, and that used to help adding up to the donations i got here, and it got suspended, so now i make like 1/2 dollars on teepublic monthly. so... it's a huge loss. there's a lot of things me and my mom are in charge of paying-- groceries, power and water and gas, medicine (she's diabetic, i have some sort of chronic sinusitis), our dog and cat's food and medicines, wifi, phone bills, public transportation, healthcare, my dad's new therapist... so, you know, i really need anything people can donate. even if it's just a single dollar, literally any amount helps. i love fashion so much and i love this blog, i work really hard on it even when my brain says no, and i really appreciate how much you guys love it too. i love seeing people discover new styles, new designers, new things to be inspired by. so, yeah... i'm never going anywhere, but i do need help to basically stay afloat.

as usual, my kofi link is this one: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my teepublic link is this one: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. thanks for being around and sharing and reblogging my posts, thanks for asking questions about fashion, and of course thanks for helping to the ones who can, and thanks to the ones who can't too, i know how that feels like, don't worry about it. love you 💖

#text posts

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (6) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n the highs (friends) and lows (exes) of life aka lina lore 👀 preface : i know nothing about nfl or american football so suspend ur beliefs if u happen to know a thing or two, also my amateur photoshopping skills are really improving from this

masterlist | last part | part 6 | next part (tba)

INSTAGRAM

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon and 142,394 others

logansargeant The long-awaited ultimate rematch tagged: selinabui and oscarpiastri

alex_albon Wait, why wasn't I invited?

selinabui ok captain america pack it up ↳ logansargeant @ selinabui Stay mad 😎 ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui Why would you challenge two professional racing drivers to a racing game? ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri i thought you loved me? ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui Ah but you love winners more 😏 ↳ logansargeant @ oscarpiastri Stop flirting in my comments???

cofrisy_f1 LOSCAR??? OSCALINA??? LOLINA???

beemiepie she chose the orange car 🥺🥺🥺 ↳ siera_mblanc @beemiepie a true papaya girlie 🧡🧡

cameliazzz just posted to their story

replies selinabui cami, did u or did u not insist u'd be fine 😭

lukaszhang the SLANDER??? didn't we have loads of fun???

aidan_ebass Touché Millie, see you soon?

eb_jonno sidenote: can you bring mochi on the plane? are there food restrictions?

oscarpiastri

liked by opeightyone and 121,983 others

oscarpiastri 次回まで trans: until next time

piastri_lina obsessed with this couple's dedication to never tagging each other

opeightyone Get 'em next year 💪

selinabui currently feeling like a 1930's housewife waiting for her husband to return from war ↳ cameliazzz @ selinabui HELLO NOT YOU PLAGARISING MY STORY??? FOR A GUY??? ↳ selinabui @ cameliazzz nooooo wifey i didn't mean like that :(((

TWITTER

lina !!! @EB_selina · 37m you've gotta be shitting me

NFL Jersey Numbers @nfljerseywatch · 1h Tennessee Titans RB Thomas Howard (@THowdy) is wearing number 24. Last worn by Kenny Vaccaro. #Titans

↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 34m no fucking way... i don't wanna jump to conclusions but... ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 32m he tweeted about it. girl- jump to those conclusions.

Thomas Howard @THowdy · 58m The move to the #Titans has been a huge change, and 24 has been a number close to my heart for many years, I'd consider it a lucky number for a lucky year 👊 ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 23m eat shit and die i'm so fucking serious you have no right to wear her number ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 22m hahaha (not) funny but april fools was last week say sike RIGHT NOW

fiona🩷 @fififorlina · 29m thinking about how tommy is playing with lina’s number i'm weak 😭 ↳ 🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 13m no, we're absolutely not doing this, it's not sweet at all, do you even know how badly he treated lina? ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 11m there are tommy-supporting linami’s in this day and age???

oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 39m lina watching her ex and cousin play/drive with her number be like:

↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 23m idk how to feel bc it's kinda hilarious that our little rockstar is slowly plaguing the sporting world with her number

lina !!! @EB_selina · 22m @LoganSargeant for my own mental health we're not going to talk for the next... 50 years ↳ Logan Sargeant @LoganSargeant · 8m I'm sorry? Did I do something wrong? ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 5m it's not you, it's just your countrymen (i'm generalising again)

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 35m WHY IS EVERYONE FLOODING MY TL WITH T*MMY SHIT ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 34m lina is one of the only music girlies who is SO SO SO vocal about how much she HATES her ex and you still can't listen to her??? ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 34m not just with her music but as in SHE OUTRIGHT HATES HIS GUTS ON MAIN she COULD NOT possibly make it clearer that she would rather shoot herself in the head than ever consider getting back together with him ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 33m i'm so tired can't you just let the woman be happy with oscar ↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 17m liv, baby, i think you need to change ur name to 'defense minister of linami nation'

INSTAGRAM

selinabui

liked by oscarpiastri and 139,204 others

selinabui some weird second string loser who's not worth mentioning

cameliazzz thought the message was 'let everyone know i'm doing ok'? ↳ selinabui @ cameliazzz message appropriately sent :)

oliviarodrigo AAHHH stunning as always 💝💝 ↳ selinabui @ oliviarodrigo watch out, the literal moment we're in the same city i'm hunting u down (my favourite american 🥺)

oscarpiastri Haha not me though right :) ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri idk maybe...?

TWITTER

lina !!! @EB_selina · 1h this is really hindering my enjoyment of 'so american' ↳ Oscar Piastri @ OscarPiastri · 1h I reaaally hate to break it to you but I think you might be the American in this relationship ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 53m take that back rn i'm serious ↳ Oscar Piastri @ OscarPiastri · 49m Which one of us has lived in California for half a decade? 🤔

↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 37m can you imagine waking up to that face? oscar piastri, you lucky bitch

↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h oscar piastri i was not familiar with your game ↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h selina, i understand you now, i get it now, truly i do, hooooly

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h i think the entire empty bottles fandom and oscalina shippers trying to cleanse the tl by posting some of the most jaw-clenching, hottest pictures of oscar and lina is so funny ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h the best part is that it's actually working and also so many more empty bottles fans are realising how unfairly attractive oscar piastri is

INSTAGRAM

selinabui Seoul, South Korea

liked by oscarpiastri and 138,958 others

selinabui heal my s(e)oul tagged: cameliazzz, blublublupi, and lukaszhang

lukaszhang i thought i specifically asked you not to post that ↳ selinabui @lukaszhang i actually wasn't gonna but then you told me not to so obviously i had to

oscarpiastri 🧡 ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri any other fucking colour heart i beg ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui You know I'm contractually obligated

emptybottlos i'm convinced they agreed to go on tour just to travel, visit friends and eat a bunch of authentic food

ceciliapham someone else is in seoul rn 👀 ↳ marie_h.sb @ceciliapham in what world do you think your gonna see lina and chris yamada in the same room again?

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee

#f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x oc #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 social media au

[dellalyra]

ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏᴏᴋ: ᴀᴋɪᴏ ʀʏᴜ ᴛᴀᴅᴀsʜɪ ɢᴏᴊᴏ

ᴀ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ᴇxᴛʀᴀ

Pixie says: requested by my darling angel mrs.geto (aka @soraya-daydreams) forever ago but I have just finished bc uni has been kicking my booty. i love this - it’s mostly silly but a nice lil extra for FF.

The first time Akio laughed, it surpised nobody that it was his father who elicited the sound. The game of peekaboo had always made the baby smile and gurgle away but today it seemed to especially tickle him as you lay beside him on the bed with Satoru popping in and out sporadically of his field of vision. Satoru popped up with enough gusto to even make you laugh. That’s when the most melodic sound either of you had heard rang across the room. A tiny, bubbling giggle from the stretched out baby on the comforter - you both froze.

“Do it again, ‘Toru.” You whisper, urgently.

So he does.

And he laughs again.

That night you both spent hours coming up with ways to make the baby laugh and recording videos to send to the family.

Safe to say, next time Itadori was over - it became very clear that Akio was a Gojo through and through when he began laughing at Sukuna’s malicious remarks through Yuuji’s cheek mouth.

At 5 months, Akio was on his play mat on the living room floor while you made some food with your husband. Music from the speaker had coaxed your husband into twirling you around and wrapping you in his arms as he laughed at whatever nonsense you were babbling on about, pressing kisses to your cheeks and nose. You’re spun like a princess and when you see the baby mat, you gasp. Satoru stops, looking at you - then the mat.

Akio wasn’t on his back anymore chewing on his teething ring - he was sitting up.

Sitting up and staring at you both.

With a murderous glare of an angry cat, exactly like his father.

“He sat up.” Satoru whispers.

“Yeah, with first degree murder in mind, I think.” You reply.

You approach the baby (cautiously).

His face suddenly changes into a bright smile, wide and cheerful as he has another first.

He reaches his chubby little arms out and makes grabby hands toward you.

Gasping, you scoop him up.

“My baby! Of course you can have a cuddle, my smart little man!” You coo, nuzzling his little head.

Satoru leaps over the back of the sofa and comes to join in.

“Grabby hands and sitting up in one night! Baby boy, you’re spoiling us!” He says, reaching to squeeze his arms around your waist.

The baby frowns.

Satoru pulls away.

Akio smiles.

Satoru lifts Akio from your arms, and he’s fine and dandy, nuzzling his papa.

Satoru goes to kiss you both on the cheek but when he gets to you he’s met with a scowling baby again.

“Holy shit - kid, am I not allowed to touch your mama?!” Satoru gasps.

You test the theory and find that Akio loves cuddling you both still, just - separate. The minute Satoru tries to kiss you it’s back to the scowl (luckily, not a tantrum).

“Listen here - she was my wife first.” He narrows his eyes at the baby he has suspended above his head.

“He’s bound to be a little possessive, he did come out of me.” You roll your eyes, laughing at the two Gojo boys battling for your attention.

Satoru pouts, sulking.

“Yeah well, I come in you.” He retorts.

“You are so lucky that child is only 6 months old and you haven’t scarred him for life like you did with Megumi.”

At 7 months - you and Satoru were waving goodbye to Megumi on a Sunday evening as he went back to stay at the dorms for the week, with Akio on your hip. Feeling movement from the baby, you look at him as he clumsily waves his hand around toward his brother.

“Look! ‘Toru! He’s waving bye-bye! You waving bye-bye to ‘Gumi, baba?” You coo, as Megumi stands at the gate for an extra minute just to wave at his little brother being doted on by his parents. Ijichi, here to collect Megumi, receives a wave too.

8 months - Akio’s hand and finger movements are improving rapidly, slightly advanced for his age if anything. He can grab and pull and push and pick things up now - much to the entire families amazement.

One sunny Thursday evening, the designated day every week for ‘Kooking with Kento’, as you named it back in High School. The tradition formed when Nanami first made enough food for an exhausted young and Satoru one day after a particularly long and frustrating mission, and has been a weekly occurrence since. Nanami would come to the house, you and him would cook and then the family would eat together. This week, with it being a balmy April evening - you sat outside in the garden together, a bottle of wine split between you all and Akio on his Godfather’s lap. Mid-sentence, Kento was cut off as Akio reached up to grab his Uncle’s sunglasses off his face.

It was silent for a moment as the baby waved them around, before you and Satoru burst into cacophonous laughter.

Nanami couldn’t help the small smile as he fitted the glasses on the babies small face.

First word was unsurprising. A day trip out with his parents, sitting in a cafe as you and Satoru share two large slices of cake and milkshakes and Akio drools over the sight in from of him. He begins jabbing his little hand at the plate, poking you both in the face and babbling nonsense.

“You had some cake, ‘Kio!” You laugh.

“This is my cake. Papa’s cake.” Satoru says.

“Eh? Mama and Papa’s cake. ‘S mine too!” You pout, batting his fork away with yours.

“I’m bigger than you, so I should get about 70% of it.” He reasons.

“Absolutely not. I wanted my own slice, you insisted on sharing because it would be romantic so it’s a 50/50 split or go get your own, Satoru Gojo.” You glare. Cake’s a serious topic in your house.

“It is romantic!” He argues.

“I agree, it’s adorable, and I love that you suggested such a cute thing - what’s also adorable is cake. We split the cake 50/50, Satoru. It was literally in our wedding vows that all cakes be split in half so that we can both live happy lives.” You contribute, still sword fighting his fork.

“Cake!” Came an angry little voice.

“Mama’s cake!”

“Papa’s cake!”

There’s silence.

Akio is looking at you both.

You look at him, then each other. Tears spilling in both your eyes.

“Cake!” Akio claps, shouting the word again.

You both let out a sob. Hugging him and then each other and pressing kisses to every face at the table.

“As much as you want, sweet baby!” You say, feeding the 11 month old a bite of your cake.

“Any cake! All of it!” Satoru nods, beaming and ordering three more slices.

His first steps, came toward his father.

Satoru had been training with Megumi all afternoon in school, before they both got into his car and drove home to you and Akio. You had returned to work a month prior, continuing to teach the second years and had picked up Akio from your mom’s that afternoon before driving home.

You were sitting on the floor with your baby, playing with his blocks and reading him stories before the jingle of keys could be heard at the front door. Your son crawled out of your lap and toward the hallway, stopping at the coffee table as the door unlocked and in walked his father and older brother.

“Hi, my loves!” Satoru calls, smiling and blowing kisses toward you both as he takes off his sunglasses and coat.

“Hi mom.” Megumi calls.

Akio squeals, hearing the two voices, using the edge of the table to pull himself onto his feet as he’d been doing for a month now.

The two men come around the corner, and Megumi leans against the archway to the room and Satoru kneels down on his haunches as he always does to let Akio crawl to him.

However, nobody expected him to pull his hands away from the table and begin to take wobbly, determined steps toward him.

“Oh my god!” You gasp.

“Yes, baby! You got this! Come see papa!” Satoru calls, delight evident.

Megumi straightens up, walking around the side - ready to pounce at any sign of a tumble.

The baby makes his way just to his father’s feet on his unsteady feet before his legs give way and he tumbles straight into his father’s large, waiting arms.

The three of you crowd over him, cooing and kissing and crying (you and Satoru), and later when he walks toward Megumi - you record a video - a very precious video to save to the collection.

At 14 months, a trip to the playground reveals a lot.

You and Satoru, Megumi and Itadori (Nobara is shopping, unsurprisingly) are sitting having a picnic as you watch the baby toddle around the area playing with the giant abacus and building blocks, and thoroughly enjoying the sandpit.

You see his little head follow something, eyes locked intently on it. Following his line of sight, all you can see is a playhouse. A cute, wooden playhouse.

Looking to your side, you see your husband is staring at the same spot.

“Satoru?” You ask.

“He’s looking right at it.”

“Huh? The playhouse? Why’s he so focused on it?” You puzzle, there’s one in the garden at home so it’s not a new sight for the baby.

“No. There’s - Y/N - there’s a fly head in it.” Satoru says, eyes flicking between the boy and the playhouse.

Your head snaps, toward the baby.

You follow his line of sight, and sure enough he’s staring directly at the top left corner of the playhouse roof.

“Is it in the top left corner?” You ask Satoru.

He nods.

“Holy shit.” You whisper.

“He’s got it.” Satoru says, breathless in wonder.

“Huh? Got what?” Itadori asks through a mouthful of strawberries.

“Shut up, just watch.” Megumi elbows him.

“How…? I thought - ” You begin.

“It’s said to be impossible but… I always wondered with the strength of your cursed energy - combined with my bloodline, if it would create another one.” Satoru says, serious and thoughtful.

“He doesn’t have my cursed energy though? Only yours.” You ask.

“It’s only Gojo energy he has, yeah, but what Gojo energy would have been weakened by one parent being a less powerful sorcerer was bolstered by the fact you’re a special grade yourself. It strengthened my genes to create another one, fully powered.” He says, breathless in his awe.

Your jaw drops. Shocked.

Akio - has broken the mould.

Two wielders of the Six Eyes now exist in the world.

You look back at the baby, grabbing Satoru’s hand who squeezes it three times (I love you.) You squeeze it back four. (I love you too).

The baby pulls himself up. Toddling in the direction of the playhouse. You go to stand up, a flick of a finger from any adult or student sorcerer would exorcise a fly head. You’re pulled back down, onto your husband’s lap.

“They’re harmless alone. It won’t hurt him.” He says.

You know he’s right, and wouldn’t ever let anything hurt a hair on that baby’s head so you sit, leaning back against his chest.

As Akio approaches the playhouse, the fly head comes out and perches on the little bench beside it.

Akio stares at it, tilting his head like a curious kitten.

Itadori jumps up, ready to go fist fight in a playground - but Megumi pulls him down.

“Watch this.” Megumi says, quietly.

The fly head moves toward where Megumi’s divine dogs are flanking the baby and lands on Akio’s shoulder. He just looks at it, curious - until it pulls on his fluffy white hair. Without a sound, just a frown - and a smack of a pudgy fist - the fly head drops to the ground, fizzling into nothing.

You and Satoru just look on in awe, silent and amazed by your beautiful baby boy.

“He’s something special.” Satoru says, voice full of love.

“Course he is, he’s part of you.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Itadori is just sitting slack jawed.

“Did the baby just -” He mumbles.

“Welcome to the Gojo household.” Megumi smirks.

His first conscious choice of style came with a decision at two and a half. He marched into the living room where you sat, his papa’s head on your lap as you stroked his hair. Papa had the same hair as Akio, just shorter.

“Mama! Papa!” He says, standing with his hands on his hips.

“Yes, sir?” Satoru says, one eye open and saluting the child.

“Change my hair!” He says, determined.

Your heart nearly broke - hoping he wouldn’t ask for it to be cut - you adored his long white locks you tied in a little bun. Yet, if he wanted it cut - you’d agree.

“What do you want to do, ‘Kio?” You ask, still combing your hands through the head of hair on your lap, where your husband sat nuzzling the growing bump and whispering sweet nothings to you and the baby inside.

He pats the top of his head, looking at you both from in front of the fireplace.

“Up here! Like Uncle Soso!” He says, smiling.

You and Satoru just smile at him (relieved he’s okay with keeping his precious long hair).

“You want two little buns like Uncle Soso?” You confirm.

He nods, very assuredly.

“Your Uncle Soso’s hair is pretty fire, kid, good choice.” Satoru smiles at him, beckoning him to sit on his lap where he lays.

“Yeah, ‘s so fire.” The baby nods, smiling and grinning.

“Okay, how about we do it the next time we go see him at school?” You suggest.

The baby cheers and claps and tosses himself onto his father’s lap like an Olympian, thanks to his tall height for a 2 and a half year old and then hugs you both.

“Mama? Maybe we watch Toothless? Papa loves Toothless. As a s‘prise for him?” He whispers (he doesn’t, he’s got all the subtlety of his father).

“Oh, is it for Papa? I thought we watched How To Train Your Dragon for Akio?” You smirk.

“No - for papa.”

You look down at your husband.

“No. He’s right. It’s for papa.” Satoru confirms, smirking up at you both before flicking on the film as the three (four) of you curl up under a blanket.

Akio’s first little sibling was a day of great excitement for him. He sat, not patiently, on the floor of his ‘Uncle Soso’s’ apartment, playing with blocks and toy animals with him (his Uncle Soso was very fun to play with, he thought) and asking every 20 minutes if the baby had come. Every time, Uncle Soso would say “not yet, ‘Kio, but soon.”

When the phone rang, and Choso answered Megumi’s call saying the baby was here and it was time to come to the infirmary - he scooped up Akio and said,

“Wanna go meet your sister?”

Akio was enamoured with Mirai from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was so tiny, even tinier than his baby dolls and looked like a pretty snowflake. She had the same hair as him, white and fluffy but her eyes looked like his Mama’s. He kissed her softly on the forehead, trying to remember all the things ‘Gumi and Uncle Soso told him about being a good big brother.

He was so attentive, insisting on playing quietly in the same room as Mirai when she napped so he could keep an eye on her - and keeping a little cloth in his toy box so he could help Papa or Mama if she had too much milk. He would sit and tell her stories every night, trying to remember the ones Mama and Papa told him about the heroes who saved the world, the Knight with the Pink Hair (he thought that one was cool, since his Jiji (Yuuji) has pink hair), The Prince of Shadows, The Piercing Princess and the Wizard Kendo. He told her the love stories of the King and Queen in the stories too, he liked those characters a lot - The Honoured King and The Queen of The Forest. Sometimes, he would wake up in the morning and see Papa asleep, with Mirai on his broad chest and Mama asleep in bed and crawl into bed between them, holding their hands and kissing his baby sister, before drifting back to sleep with them.

The first secret he had to keep was the ring. He was 6 and ‘Gumi was sitting at the table with him, Mirai and their parents.

“Mom, dad - I - um… wanna show you guys something.” He said, awkwardly as ever.

Akio didn’t look up, his pasta was too good.

Well, he didn’t look up until he heard his Papa gasp and his mama shout ‘No fucking way!’.

On the table, in front of Megumi was a tiny black box with a gold ring inside. Whats so special about that? Mama and Papa both wear rings all the time.

“You’re gonna do it? You’re gonna ask him?” His mama asks, voice sounding funny.

“How? Is it super romantic? Oh my god, our baby boy is getting married!” His papa shouts.

“I haven’t asked him yet!” Megumi retorts, his face really red.

“Like he’d ever say no.” His dad rolls his eyes.

“Your dad’s right, ‘Gumi - he adores the ground you walk on! When are you going to ask him? Do you need any help? We can book out a restaurant or something for you!” You squeal in excitement.

“Tomorrow. I’m not going to do anything extravagant - you two always said your private, quiet proposal was really special so I’m going down that route.” He says, shrugging but face focused.

“What’s a posal?” Mirai asks, face covered in sauce.

“When you ask someone to marry you, ‘Rai.” Akio responds to her.

“How did you posal, mama and papa?” She asks, poking her dad in the arm.

“Your papa made a pretty picnic and we sat out in the garden in the summer and he gave me a pretty ring and asked if I would marry him. It was just us two, and it was perfect.” You say, tilting your head to kiss your husband, both softly smiling.

“Of course it was, everything I do is perfect - just look around this table. I’m the strongest.” Satoru nodded, winking.

“Of course I said yes, and we got married and that was 12 years ago! Then we had you two squirts.” You says, sticking out his tongue. You stood up, walking to put your arms around Megumi’s shoulders and kiss the top of his head, eyes teary and smiling.

“And she’ll never get away!” Satoru says, running to lift you up and over his shoulder, tickling your sides as you squeal, before he sits back down, now with you on his lap, arm around his neck. Papa and Mama were always touching, he liked seeing them cuddle, it made them both smile a lot.

“So ‘Gumi is gonna marry Jiji?” Mirai asks.

“I’m gonna ask him to, yeah. Is that okay with you two, because if we get married he’ll be your brother too.” Megumi asks, serious.

“Yes please! Please, please, please!” Akio pleads.

“Get married tomorrow!” Mirai squeals.

“I’ll ask him tomorrow, how about that?” Megumi smirks.

“Deal.” Akio says, nodding.

The next time Megumi came over for dinner, three days later, Yuuji was wearing the gold ring.

#submission #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #family formations extras #dad!gojo

[brights-place]

Dating Baji Keisuke

A/N: These are headcannons of whats it like dating Baji and it's so long cause I had SOOO many head cannons.

He likes when you play with his hair and do random hairstyles for him, sometimes he goes to tomans meetings with these hairstyles and chifuyu makes fun of him by saying that he is too submissive but he just glares.

He likes to paint your nails and you like painting his.

He trusts you when you talk to other males or females or non-binary’s

He's more of a best friend than a boyfriend, he likes you to tell him about your problems or the gossip you find out about school or the rumors that exist about Toman for a laugh because some of them are very stupid.

Baji is sometimes hungry early in the morning, so he gets up to cook noodles with cheese and also makes a plate of noodles for you so that you are not hungry either.

When they go out for a walk on the street, he always has food and animals with him to catch them and take them to an adoption center since he already has too many sanitary products and they don't let him have more.

When Baji Gets suspended he drives your school and tries to find you at your break to rant to you about it.

Sometimes he likes to dance with you in his room.

He asks chifuyu for advice since he read romance manga and when Baji takes that advice you squeal because you find out he's trying his hardest to show you lots of love.

The first time you went to his house, his mother got excited and started showing you the pictures of Baji as a baby. Baji yelled at his Mother flustered.

One day at school, he almost punched the teachers because a child put gum in his hair and he didn't want to cut it, so you spent the whole afternoon taking the gum from his hair, he was almost crying

Outside his apartment, he has cat food and water for the kittens who came home

He loves holding you close to him.

You nearly cried when seeing him hurt Takemichi and say he was leaving Toman he never told you what he was planning and he tells you everything.

It's normal that he sometimes wakes up at midnight because he was hungry and bugs you about it.

He is afraid of you and his mother when you guys are angry at him.

His friends always make fun of him because his attitude changes a lot when he is with you and when you are gone, he beats up all the people who made fun of him but when you told him he can show his true self he literally hugs the life out of you and shows you his true self you found it chaotic but you loved it and was glad he showed himself more to you.

He shows PDA no matter if it’s public or just you two.

He will protect you forever it may bother you, but you know he doesn't want to lose you

He teaches you self-defense in case they attack you and he is not close to you to protect you

When he can't sleep, he will text you that he will be picking you up at home so that they can take a motorcycle ride and go see the stars.

When you introduced him to your parents, he was very nervous thinking that they would despise him for being in a gang, but your parents didn't care and they only asked him to protect you.

He is a little jealous, but he tries to hide it, which does not work for him, he always tries to tell you what bothers him so that you can solve it together.

When you make a hairstyle on him, he doesn't take it off for anything in the world, only when he has a fight that he has to tie his hair well to be able to fight better, but then he goes to you to do it again.

Baji Hates seeing you get hurt it annoys him and angers the ever loving shit out of him so the other gang there fighting Baji would be rocking there shit.

#baji fluff #baji imagines #baji x reader #x reader #x self insert #baji keisuke #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo revengers #baji keisuke x you #Fluff #baji keisuke fluff #toman baji #tokyo revengers toman #tokyo manji gang #tokyo rev fluff