#offer sunshine and friendship

[heckyeahponyscans]

50% of sales proceeds of these adorable Care Bears will go to the PCRF (Palestinian Children's Relief Fund), donated directly by eBay as soon as you purchase

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#Care Bears #eBay #PCRF #if only those silly little guys were real #they would fly down from the sky in their silly little cloud cars and help #share care love a lot have a tender heart #offer sunshine and friendship #the comforting hug of a grandmother for every frightened child #but they only exist inside us #as our best impulses #so we ourselves will do what we can

[downbadf0rficppl]

exposure therapy

Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: Bucky tends to avoid crowded spaces. He's afraid of something - either being recognised or being trapped or something else. He doesn't know. When you offer to help him get out of his comfort zone. He can't resist.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Creepy weirdo men (not Bucky), therapy, smut

Repost

You dipped into the subway, dodging in between passengers - it was rush hour and the subway was disturbingly crowded. You scrambled onto the platform, praying that your train was slightly delayed so you could get on in time. It wasn't.

You stood on the platform as more and more peopled filtered, the noise building to a cacophony of miserable voices. You took a step back, trying to back away from the edge, when a man shoved you through the crowd. You stumbled forward.

A gloved hand wraps around your arm, pulling you back towards the middle of the platform and into a warm chest. You start to pull away, not keen to be leaning into a stranger. A familiar cologne hit you. You’d bought him that cologne. You looked up to see a welcome face.

Bucky.

A vicious scowl was etched into his face, his arm now firmly around your waist. You smile up at him, and he catches your smile, returning it with a soft one of his own. You reach to hold onto his hand as the train pulls up to the platform. You both step on, grabbing onto the bar and jolting as the train gets going.

Bucky leans down to your ear, “You okay, doll?”

His hot breaths elicit shivers all down your spine. You nod at him, unable to push any words out and he looks at your peculiarly. He’s never known you to be lost for words.

You met Bucky once he started his court-mandated therapy sessions. You were the receptionist at the clinic, and you knew Dr Raynor’s reputation for being thorough – although it was your personal opinion that maybe, sometimes, she could take it easy on some of her patients. Bucky was one of them.

You’d gathered a lot from the months that he had been going to therapy. The major thing was that therapy was the reason he was usually in such a poor mood. If he walked in in a bad mood, his mood when he left was positively foul. He didn’t like how Dr Raynor pried – even if that was, in fact, part of the point of his therapy.

You’d gathered that he was quite a lonely man. In fact, when he first started coming to therapy, the fact you smiled at him surprised him. He’d warmed up to it over it, and nowadays, when he came to the office, he greeted you before you greeted him.

You started finding jokes to tell, or little interesting facts – anything to make him smile. You offered sweets to the kids, words of warmth to the adults, and jokes to Bucky. It all worked out. He laughed at your jokes, in the same way the kids enjoyed their sweets and the adults appreciated to the adults.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky looked forward to seeing you. He was surprised by your smile – but only how beautiful it was. He’d never seen pure sunshine until he saw your face break into a smile. In fact, the sun could go dark, but he knew that the world would only adapt to revolve around you. He knew that his already did.

On his birthday, you were the only person who gave him a present – a rather expensive cologne that you had splurged on. You wanted him to feel special. Turns out you didn’t need to go to those lengths. You were one of very few people who even knew it was his birthday.

Bucky made a point of buying you flowers from time to time after that – and you made a point of hiding them from Raynor. You didn’t want your budding friendship to be another thing she digs deep into. He also wore the cologne every time you saw him, which made you smile. At least he liked the gift.

He got off at your stop with you, even though you insisted he didn’t need to. Something about, ‘it’s on my way,’ and ‘I’d feel better if I knew you got home safe, doll.’ You smiled as he walked next to you, hands tucked into his pockets, leading the way to your apartment. You walked in a comfortable silence, the noise of Brooklyn blaring all around you

“How was it?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Hmm?”

“The subway. How was it?” You knew that Bucky generally got quite claustrophobic. He’d avoided the subway for the first few months of living in Brooklyn and, even now, only took it when he absolutely needed to.

He looked at you, his eyes full of amused frustration, “Could be worse.” He lowered his voice, hoping you wouldn’t hear him, “Was better ‘cause it was with you.”

You smiled, “Call it exposure therapy.”

“Exposure therapy? What’s that?”

“It’s where you face your fears by confronting them head on.” He looked at you, still confused, “You know how you’re scared of enclosed spaces?” He nodded his head, “Well, exposure therapy would put you in an enclosed space – like the subway – to confront your fear.”

Bucky nodded his head, mulling over your words in his head. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

You came to your apartment lobby, Bucky following you inside. You told him that this is where you left him, and that you’d see him next week, same place, same time.

You were heading toward your apartment when he stopped you, “You know the exposure therapy thing you mentioned?”

You turned back around, “Yeah?”

“Is that a real thing?”

You nodded your head. Bucky swallowed nervously, not sure how to ask the question. You read his mind, “You wanna give it a go?”

He nodded. You grabbed his hand gently, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“You should probably talk to the professional about how to actually go about it,” you chuckled at how his face darkened at the mention of Raynor, “but I’d love to help you out. Whatever you need.”

Bucky watched you as you disappeared into the stairwell, smiling all the way.

Just like you said, Bucky brought the idea of exposure therapy up with Dr Raynor in his next session. Surprisingly, she was almost immediately on board. She figured that it would be a good way for Bucky to get out of his comfort zone and confront some of his more irrational fears.

He immediately told you. You squealed – a sound that definitely shocked Bucky – grabbing his phone from his hand and adding your number as a contact.

He changed your contact to 'Doll' – not that it was necessary seeing that the only people that ever texted or called were Sam and Raynor. Guess you were another person to add the extremely exclusive club.

The next morning you dragged him to a coffee shop. Not just any coffee shop. The local Starbucks. You drag him in during the rush hour, holding his hand as he grumbles in the line.

"Did we really have to start this extreme?" He says, gazing behind and in front of him. You squeeze his hand, reassuringly.

"You'll be fine. Know what you want?"

You shuffled forward as another person moved out of the line.

The Starbucks worker sighed as you and Bucky walked up to the front of the line. You smiled at Bucky as he gripped your hand, unassuredly.

"Hi - um - can I - uh - get - uh... -" Bucky stumbled over his words. You ran your fingers over his knuckles soothingly, "cold brew - the smallest size."

The worker nodded his head, "that'll be...-" You drowned out his words as you stared up at Bucky's face. His face was still contorted in a grimace, but there was a glint of pride in his eyes. You gave yourself a mental high five.

Bucky paid for his drink and waited as you ordered an iced caramel macchiato with oat milk. Bucky wasn't sure he knew what any of that meant but he looked in awe as you complimented the cashier and made him blush. You had that kind of effect on people.

You grabbed your drinks and went to sit in Central Park, the sun streaming through the trees as you found a bench. You rested your arm next to his, keeping the contact between the two of you minimal.

"You like it?" You asked, staring him in the face. He took a sip and pulled a face.

"Too bitter." He said, sticking his tongue in disgust. You laughed. He celebrated internally, desperate to hear that sound directed toward him again.

"Really?" I thought you would have liked it. You know, given the dark and brooding look you've got going on." You deadpanned. He shoved you gently and you laughed again.

"Try mine," you said, handing over your drink and grabbing his. Yours was much nicer than his, sweeter and more milk too. He smiled in response and took another sip, "Keep it. I like cold brew." He tried to change your mind and hand you back your drink, but you were adamant.

"Let's play a game."

He looked at you, questioningly.

"20 questions."

He turned to face you.

"Rules are: one person asks a question both answer it...-"

"That's not how '20 questions' usually works."

"Well, that's how it works now. Also rapid-fire: you have to say the first thing that comes to mind."

"Ok, shoot." He leaned back, resting on his arm, occasionally taking sips from the macchiato.

"Favourite colour?" You went first, starting simple.

"Yellow," He said, not really thinking. His face blushed when his mind caught up to him though. You noted that for later.

"Mine's blue, like the sea." You responded, staring intently into his eyes. Bucky's eyes were blue, just like the sea on a stormy day. Easy to get lost in. Easy to get found in. Those eyes told you where home was. "Your turn."

"Ok, umm- favourite hobby?"

"Umm, I like painting. Helps me relax. Used to paint a lot as a kid, probably need to do it more often." Bucky stared at your lips as you talked, mesmerised by the way they move. "What about you, Buck?

"Me? Oh, I like reading."

"Oh yeah? What kind of books?"

"The Hobbit. Was my favourite back in the day. Read it with Steve all the time." He became quiet at the mention of his best friend, and you reached out to rest a hand on his.

"You wanna know my other favourite hobby?" Bucky nodded, meeting your eyes, "Helping my favourite super soldier get out of his comfort zone." Bucky's eyes lit up at that.

You stood up, offering Bucky your hand. He grabbed, faking back pain as he stood up. "Where to next, doll?"

"We're going grocery shopping." The groan that left him made you laugh out loud.

You walked into the Target near the compound. Neither of you actually lived in the compound, but this Target was bigger than any of the Targets in the city. You figured the bigger the Target, the more likely it was that Bucky would get out of his comfort zone.

He grabbed your hand and squeezes it tightly. You smiled up at him as you pulled out a trolley. Bucky grabbed it from you, hands tightening around the bar. You linked your arm with his.

"Ready?"

"No."

You smirked, patting his arm, "You'll be fine."

You perused through the aisles, occasionally handing Bucky an item. If you were too short to grab something, he'd reach up over your head and grab it for you. You flushed at that - the feeling of being caged between Bucky made you feel safe. Like nothing could ever touch you.

You walked ahead of Bucky, leaning on your tiptoes to grab some eggs from the shelf. You grab the carton, placing it in the trolley. He looks at you lovingly, your cheeks blushing under his gaze.

"Excuse me, could you move?" An old man shoves past the both of you. Bucky's gaze immediately hardens. The old man continues to grumble under his breath.

He moves to say something, but you grab his hand, shaking your head. Bucky pulls you into his chest, leaning to press his lips to your forehead. Butterflies erupt in your stomach as surprise washes over you. Clearly, his actions caught up to him as he froze up, muscles tightening under your hands. He tried to pull away but you keep your face nuzzled in his chest, arms wrapping tighter around him. You smiled as he relaxed into your hug.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Should we get going, doll? More things to buy."

You nodded but kept your hand in his. He smiled as you leaned into him. This was nice. He could get used to this.

You finished shopping, scanning your things through in the self-service. You didn't have that many items, but Bucky refused to let you pay, whipping out the card that Stark gave him, with the excuse that he didn't use it enough - especially, given the amount of money that Stark had put on it.

You were giddy. Your shopping trip was a success - Bucky now knew that supermarkets weren't even half as scary as he thought. In fact, he even smiled at a worker on his way out.

Bucky helped you load the two shopping bags onto his bike, before strapping the helmet onto your head. You could get used to this.

After that day, you guys went out regularly. You tried restaurants and diners (Bucky preferred diners because it was less fancy and he felt more at home - "haven't changed much from the 40s", he'd said), you tried the gym (or rather, you dragged him to the gym with you on a random Tuesday morning when you had a spin cycle class - it wasn't that bad but Bucky stuck to training at the compound), you even took him to the cinema when they were showing a 'Lord of the Rings' rerun (Bucky almost kissed you when he heard the plan, but restrained himself - there was no way he was scaring you away now).

Therapy with Dr. Raynor became more bearable because it was just another excuse to see you. He'd put more effort into how he looked - combing his hair, keeping his beard trimmed how he knew you liked it.

Raynor picked up on it.

"I see your exposure therapy experiment is going well. What kinds of things have you been up to?"

Bucky stared out the window.

"James?"

He looked Raynor in the eye, before glancing at you through the window in the door. It was barely a shape, due to the frosted treatment on the window, but he knew it was you. He always knew.

"Shopping. She took me to the mall yesterday."

"That's a big step." Raynor said, noting that down with her pen, "How was it?"

"Wasn't that bad. We went into a shop she likes, then she asked me to pick a shop." Bucky looked down at his hands.

You had taken him into Sephora, promising him you only needed to get one thing. You run out of your favourite mascara and just needed to grab a tube. Bucky didn't know what mascara was, nor did he particularly care, but he followed you into the store nevertheless. You picked up the mascara you were looking for but kept milling around, looking to see if anything caught your fancy.

Bucky's hand found yours with relative familiarity, and you pulled him around as you explored. A man from across the shop gave him a sympathetic look.

You left Bucky for a moment to pick up a couple of face masks when the man from across the store made his way over. He patted Bucky on the shoulder amicably.

"Feel for you brother," he chuckled, moving past him. Bucky was confused.

You lined up behind him, mascara, face masks, and some liquid blush that you'd been meaning to get for a while in hand. You paid for the items, wishing the cashiers a good day. When you walked out, you asked Bucky where he wanted to go. It wasn't until you got to the clothes shop that he realised what the man meant.

He'd thought you guys were dating. The thought alone made Bucky want to smile. He gripped your hand tighter and didn't go for the rest of the trip.

Bucky looked up at Raynor and continued, "Then we got food and I dropped her home. Same as usual."

Raynor nodded, "Did it help?"

He shrugged, "I probably wouldn't go again. The mall isn't my kinda place."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Too many teenagers."

Raynor smirked at that, "Any plans for this weekend?"

"Sam's taking me to a bar. Says we need a post-mission stress reliever."

Raynor nodded, "That'll be good for you, James. Enjoy it."

She stood up to open the door and Bucky followed closely behind. He left, wishing Raynor a good evening, before walking up to you with a smile.

"What can I do for my favourite super soldier today?" You asked, placing the sign-in/sign-out sheet in front of him.

"Maybe consider spending your Friday night at a bar with me?" He asked, nervousness hidden behind his confident facade. This was the first time he'd ever asked you on something resembling a date.

You saw through his front, "Is this just because you don't want Sam to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone?"

"Maybe?"

You laughed.

"Is that a yes?"

"Sure, Buck. I'll go to the bar with you. Pick me up at 7? I'll send you the address."

When you opened the door to your apartment, Bucky's jaw dropped. He thought he'd died and gone to heaven and you were the angel waiting to ring him in.

You smiled at his awestruck expression, patting his cheek before grabbing your hand and leading him to the stairwell he had just walked up. He followed you like a puppy.

He fastened the helmet tightly on your head, before speeding down the road, going as fast as you like it. You rest your head on his back, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

You waltzed into the bar together, Sam's status as the new Captain America making it easy to skip the queue. You grabbed drinks - a cosmopolitan for you and an old fashioned for him. You teased him for his choice but Bucky just smiled.

You looked around for Sam, but he was nowhere to be found "Probably caught up doing Captain America stuff," you tell Bucky, whose eyebrows had been furrowed almost since you arrived.

You drag Bucky to the dance floor after two drinks, and you stay there for half the night, waiting for Sam to show up. You dance and dance and dance, teaching Bucky some new moves that wouldn't have been legal the last time that Bucky came out dancing with a girl. Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Sam's calling, I'll be back in a second." You smile up at him, continuing to dance once he'd left.

Not minutes had passed, when you feel a presence behind you. Thinking it was Bucky, you turn around to smile at him, only to come face to face with a greasy smile. He placed his hands on your ass, and you shoved him away, walking towards the bartender.

"Come on, sweetcheeks. Let us have some fun." You walked through the crowd faster, not looking back. He was still following you.

Bucky. He was outside, he could help you.

You made a beeline for the exit, hoping that the creep was far enough behind you, you could get away unseen. You weren't so lucky. He grabbed your hand and pushed you up against the door, arm pressing against your breasts. The door gave way as you pushed against the release latch, causing you to both go stumbling outside.

Bucky was right outside the door, trying to call Sam back, when you came flying through the door. He instantly pocketed his phone, striding towards you as you backed away from your pursuer.

You bumped into his chest, immediately pulling away to face him. You relaxed when you saw it was Bucky, grabbing his shirt and moving behind him.

"You can't hide from me, you little slut." Bucky saw red.

He grabbed the guy by his shirt and pushed him up against the wall, flesh hand coming up to slap his face. "Don't ever call my girl anything again, you hear me?"

You preened at 'my girl', hoping that it was true, that you were truly and honestly his girl.

Bucky let the man go as a bouncer came around the side of the building. He nodded towards Bucky, who explained that "he tried to grab my girl, chased her out the building."

There it was again. 'My girl.'

The bouncer grabbed the man by the scuff of his neck and threw him out onto the curb. Bucky turned to face you, hands stroking the side of his face. He looked intently into your eyes, searching for a hint of pain or fear. There was nothing. All he could see was love, radiating from your gaze and warming him from top to toe.

You grabbed his face and pulled him down, your lips pressing onto his. He melted into the kiss, eyes closing as he took over, tongue slipping between your lips as you gasped. A small whimper escaped you.

"Doll, you're driving me crazy."

"Take me home, Barnes."

He practically raced from the bar to his bedroom, carrying you up every flight of stairs. He gently rested you on the bed, ripping his shirt and jacket off in eagerness. He crawled on top of you as you reach to attach your lips to his. The kiss is long, messier than before, teeth and tongue fighting for dominance. You pulled away for air, resting your forehead against his.

He kissed you again, excitement pouring off of him, before moving to kiss down your jaw and in between your breasts. He eased your top off, leaving you in your bra, and kissed down your belly button to the top of your trousers. He asked for your consent with your eyes, hooking his fingers in your waistband. You nodded vigorously. He pulled your trousers down, discarding them against the floor. You took off your own bra, throwing it into the pile of your clothes. His eyes were fixed on your breasts for a few moments before he turned back to your cunt.

He buried his face in your clothed cunt, his hyper-sensitive smell craving the scent of your arousal. He teased you with his metal finger, rubbing circles around your clit. You arched up against him, whines slipping out of your mouth.

Those sounds made the blood rush straight to his cock.

He swiftly pulls your panties away, throwing them nearby your trousers. He buried his face between your thighs, nosing at your clit as he licked stripes up and down your lips. You whined, begging for more stimulation, and Bucky happily obliged. He moved to licking and sucking your swollen clit, the ministrations making you shiver and shake as you call his name, moaning loud enough for his neighbours to hear. Your thighs clenched around his head, trapping his face in your cunt. He watched as your squirmed, eyes trained on your pleasure-ridden face. He grabbed your thighs, massaging them under his hands, liking the feel of the flesh of your ass in his hand. He felt more possessive of you than ever. This was his.

His fingers moved to work their way into your pussy, it clenching tightly at the intrusion and overload of pleasure. He moved his fingers in and out slowly, picking up the pace of his tongue on your clit. You arched your back again. He smacked your thigh, wanting to gauge your reaction - you moaned loudly and your cunt clenched around his fingers. He growled out how fucking good you taste and how good you are for him. Your cunt clenched again at his praise.

"Oh, you like that? You like being my good little girl?" You moaned in response, "Oh sweetheart, I could eat you out for hours. Look at how pretty you are shaking and shivering for me."

His fingers sped up inside you, pounding into you. You came with a loud moan of his name and a shudder, collapsing against the bed in exhaustion.

The flush on your face and your fucked out expression made Bucky's cock impossibly harder.

He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, and pulled off his trousers and his boxers, discarding them somewhere. His dick was hard against his abs, tip red and leaking. He rolled the condom down his dick.

He pulled you down to the edge of the bed, flipping you over. "Ready for round 2?"

You nod enthusiastically.

"That's my good little girl."

He slid into you easily, giving you a minute to adjust to the stretch. He started off slow, but quickly lost control, yanking your hips up to meet his relentless thrusts. The super-soldier stamina mixed with the way you made him feel, made him all the more driven to push you over the edge again. The sound of your pussy when he drove back into you made him groan, your tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts. He reached forward to play with them, flicking and pulling the nubs as he pounded into you. You moaned, your face buried into a pillow as he pulled your hips back against his.

Bucky lifted your back up to his chest, rubbing at your clit with his metal hand, the flesh one remaining on your tits. You pulled it up, curling the fingers around your throat.

"Oh, you're a dirty girl." He squeezed a little, loving how your pussy clenched at the oxygen deprivation. You came seconds later, shaking as he kept fucking you through your orgasm, telling you how you’re gonna give him another one.

He spilled his own load into the condom moments later, pulling out and pulling you into his chest, both of your hearts beating impossibly fast.

He helped you clean up, wiping your body with a wet cloth after disposing of the used condom, helping you into a pair of his boxers, and giving you a t-shirt to cover everything else.

"Not that you need to. I appreciate having some eye candy to look at," he said cockily, holding the shirt over your head, just out of your reach

You looked up at him, hands covering your naked tits, "Where's this cocky energy when we're out in shops, huh? Would've made exposure therapy so much easier."

He dumped the t-shirt on your head and shoved you lightly as you burst into laughter, pulling on the t-shirt before throwing your arms around his neck.

"S'only for you. All for you." He said, carrying you back into bed and wrapping his arms around you, "Always for you."

"Love you, Buck."

"Love you too, Doll."

fin.

buy me a coffee

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bukcy barnes #bucky x female reader #winter soldier #bucky imagine #bucky smut #no y/n

[luminoustarlight]

Saccharine | Modern!Anakin Skywalker

What do you get when you mix a college Halloween party with beer and a pretty girl wearing a pirate costume?

A jealous Anakin Skywalker.

rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.3k | read on ao3 warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, drinking, jealousy/possessiveness, SMUT [fingering, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v, come eating/swallowing, mild degradation, like a really brief moment of lactation kink(???)]

the lovely @queenie-official asked for someone to write anakin and reader at a halloween party and anakin gets jealous. i have no idea where 5.3k words came from but y'all i love this one!

and i dedicate this to @hanasnx because we were talking about how we would suck anakin's dick every day if we could.

Here’s the thing about Halloween parties— or rather, Halloween and parties.

Anakin hates both of them. Halloween is a stupid holiday where girls wear short skirts, low-cut tank tops, and a pair of generic animal ears and call it a “costume”. Then they complain about being cold and ask for your jacket. It’s fucking October in New York, what do they expect? 

As for parties, Anakin has never liked them. He’s not a particularly social person. Hell, he’s not even that pleasant of a person but he somehow wound up with you as his best friend in college. He’s the grumpy to your sunshine. He’s a pessimist, you’re an optimist. He drinks black coffee, you like it full of syrupy caramel. He hates everything you like and you don’t understand any of the things he finds fascinating.

The logistics of your friendship is complicated. You don’t know why Anakin is the easiest person for you to talk to even though you have just about nothing in common. You don’t know why Anakin chooses to spend all of his time with you, even though there are other girls in his engineering classes who would kill to talk to him about their shared major. 

You don’t know why he holds your hand when you walk through Central Park while telling you about his hookups. (You wish he wouldn’t talk about other girls with you but you just like the sound of his voice so you do your best at drowning out the meaning of the words). 

If only he knew how miserable it makes you feel to hear about his dating life. If only you knew how difficult it is for you to do the same because every single guy is lack-luster compared to Anakin.    

“I hate parties,” Anakin states. He’s tossing a baseball— the foul ball he caught for you at a Yankees game— in the air to keep his hands busy.

“Yeah, but you love me,” you reply while taking a cream flowy blouse out of your closet. 

“Not if you make me go to this stupid Halloween party with you.” 

You roll your eyes and rest your shirt hanger on one of the knobs on your dresser. You catch the baseball midair and flop beside Anakin on your bed. He props up on an elbow and you just want to soothe the crease between his eyebrows. “Pleaaaase, Ani?” 

“No.” 

“Oh, c’mon! When’s the last time you did something for me?” 

“Look around, sweetheart,” Anakin gestures his arm out lazily. “I helped you move into this place.” 

You huff. “Okay, fine. But you offered. And if I recall correctly, I supplied you with all of the coffee and bagels your heart desired.” 

“There’s only one thing my heart desires.” A lopsided grin forms on Anakin’s lips as his fingers brush against your elbow. It’s a barely there type of touch, one you might not even notice if it weren’t for the sparks you feel every time you and Anakin make contact. 

You fail to mask the sharp intake of air that passes through your teeth. “Wh-what’s that?” 

Anakin runs his tongue over his bottom lip and you think maybe, maybe he just might say what you want him to say. Your heart expands with hope as you await his answer with a bated breath. “To not go to a fucking Halloween party.” 

And just like that, your hope deflates. Of course he wasn’t being serious. Why does his blatant disinterest in you make tears threaten behind your eyes? Is your affectionate friendship really so common that it doesn’t mean anything to him?   

You quickly stand up from your bed and distract yourself by finding the skirt you want to wear in your pile of clothes on the floor. You clear your throat and rapidly blink back any tears before they fall down your cheeks. “Fine,” you say as you find your skirt. “I don’t want you there anyway. It’s the senior Halloween party and I’m not going to miss it because of you.”

“Fine,” Anakin says back. “Go. I don’t care.” 

You gather your clothes in your arms and stand at the foot of your bed. “I have to get dressed first.” 

“So?” Anakin is back to throwing the baseball in the air. Oh, you hate him so much sometimes. You swat the ball out of the air so it lands on Anakin’s stomach, making him groan and his legs curl up to his chest. “Ow.” 

 “So, get out,” you instruct. 

“Jeez. Alright, alright.” Anakin slowly gets up from your bed, being the overly dramatic douche you had to fall in love with. “What, they didn’t put enough sugar in your coffee this morning?” 

“Out!” you point to your door. You’re fuming with him. Why does he have to be so fucking difficult? At this point, you don’t even want to go to the party but you’ll go anywhere to get away from him. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

You take a good thirty minutes to get ready for the party. Inspired by a recent rewatch of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, you decided to dress up as a pirate. You didn’t have to buy a shirt or skirt, which helped keep the cost down. You did purchase a corset, hat, and knee high boots from a thrift store in Brooklyn. With the crimson scarf you’ve had since freshman year wrapped around your waist, you’re set. 

Anakin waits for you on your aubergine couch in your living room. Why he’s waiting, you’re unsure. He’s stretched across the entire length of the couch, his long legs hanging over the armrest. Upon hearing your boots scuff across the floor, he quickly locks his phone and stands from the couch. 

“What are you still doing here?” you brush past him and into the kitchen. 

“I changed my mind,” Anakin replies, following you. You don’t notice the way he looks you up and down, soaking in the entire image of you. The scoopy neckline of your shirt, the flounce of your brown skirt, and the tightness of the corset. The only thing he’s disappointed by is the length of your skirt. It’s not short enough. 

Still, there’s no way he’s letting you go to the party alone. Somebody has to pretend to be your protective boyfriend to keep the college douchebags away. “I’m going with you.” 

You turn around without realizing how close Anakin is to you. You practically step on his toes. He looms over you and you fear he might actually hear your heart racing with how close he is. You back away, straightening your skirt for no other reason than to not look at Anakin. “Are you, now?” 

“Yes.” Anakin crosses his arms. “Are you ready?” 

“You’re going like that?” You counter. “In a zip-up Yankees hoodie?” 

“Take it or leave it, sweetheart.” 

You hate him. You love him. You hate that you love him because you know he doesn’t feel the same way. At least not in a romantic way. You grab a banana off of the counter and march toward the door. “I’d rather leave you here.” 

“Not an option.” Anakin closes your door and uses his key to lock it. The act of him using the key you gave him for emergencies makes your insides twist. It’s on a ring with his own apartment key, as if he’d need yours as frequently as he needs his own. 

You walk down the hallway with a quick pace and make a point to stomp down the stairs, even if it annoys your neighbors more than Anakin. “You’re being exceptionally annoying today.” 

“Thank you,” Anakin accepts the insult as if it’s a compliment. He holds the lobby door open for you and a rush of late October air attacks your skin. You have to hold your hat on your head so it doesn’t blow away. You make an effort not to shudder in front of Anakin, knowing how much he hates girls being unprepared for the weather. At least you’re wearing long sleeves. But it’s not not like the fabric was made to keep the Autumn chill out. 

The party is only a couple of blocks away in Hell’s Kitchen and you’re determined to stay silent all the way there. You’ll just eat your banana and pray Anakin isn’t in a rare talking mood. 

“Why are you walking so fucking fast? I have longer legs than you and I’m practically running.” 

You ignore him. You just want to go to the party, have a couple of drinks, maybe flirt with some guys you have no intentions of screwing, and then go home. Preferably without the puppy dog currently following you. 

“So. Pirate. Interesting choice. You got a thing for Jack Sparrow or something?” Why does he never have anything interesting to say when you actually want to talk to him? Now he can’t seem to shut up. 

Just one more block. Why did he change his mind? Why couldn’t he just be content with going back to his apartment and finding someone to hook up with? You’re sure that’s what he was doing while you were getting ready. The way he locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket when he heard you come out of your room. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like you two are dating or anything. He doesn’t have to hide his booty calls from you. 

“I see what you’re doing,” Anakin jogs in front of you and starts walking backwards. “You’re ignoring me.” 

You give him a look that has “No shit, Sherlock” written all over it. 

“Y’know I don’t like being ignored. I’m too sensitive.” 

You have to laugh. “You? Sensitive?” 

“Ha!” Anakin points at you. “Gotcha.” 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “We’re here, anyway. I know you’re just gonna find a corner and sulk in it so please, just let me have a good time tonight.” 

“Alright,” Anakin surrenders. You walk into the brick building together, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your bones. “But just one thing.” 

You raise your brows, waiting for him to continue. “You look beautiful tonight.” 

Your heart skips a beat and you hate how easily he makes you swoon. How easily your feelings of irritation disappear after one compliment. “Just tonight?” 

“Ah- what?” Anakin looks at you quizzically. Perhaps he didn’t hear you over the booming music and chatter. 

“Never mind!” you shout. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want a beer?” 

“Sure,” Anakin shrugs. You nod and skip off without another word. When you don’t come back after twenty minutes, Anakin starts to worry. It doesn’t matter how many girls have come up to him and batted their lashes at him. It doesn’t matter that he has 11 unread messages from several past hookups waiting for him on his phone. What matters is that you’re alone at a college party with booze and guys who get a little too handsy when they’re drunk. 

He pushes himself through the crowd, not an ounce of care that he’s severely undressed and out of place. Actually, he’s overdressed. He didn’t know the fire marshal could allow so many shirtless ‘Gladiators’ in one building. And here he thought only girls used Halloween as an excuse not to wear anything. He bumps into several people on his quest for you. 

“Hey, man! Watch it!” 

“Yo, dickhead, you made me spill my beer!” 

“What are you supposed to be? A sad Yankees fan?” 

Anakin hardly hears any of it. Actually, everything seems to fall silent when he spots you. Every other body blurs as he focuses on you and your hand on the forearm of some guy dressed as Captain Kirk from Star Trek. At least he has a goddamn shirt on. It doesn't make the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach disappear, though. You know why? It’s because you’re throwing your head back with laughter. Real, genuine laughter. What is this guy saying to you? And why hasn’t Anakin made you laugh like that recently? 

When the familiar figure of Anakin approaches you, you instantly feel bad. You forgot to bring him his beer! And then you realize that you actually handed it to the guy you’re talking to. Oops? 

“Ani! I never brought you your beer! I am so sorry. I got distracted talking to- oh my God, I don’t even know your name!” 

“Oh, uh, Jeff,” the guy tilts his beer bottle toward you and smiles. You smile back and tell him your name. You also introduce Anakin, but he’s not feeling very friendly right now. He’s too busy criticizing the way Captain Kirk introduced himself. 

Oh, uh, Jeff? He had to think about his name? He couldn’t just say Jeff? 

“Jeff and I were talking about baseball. He’s a Mets fan, though,” you fake gag. “I told him about the foul ball you practically saved me from. Whew, my life flashed before my eyes.” 

“Yeah, they come out of nowhere when you’re not paying attention.” 

Anakin hates this guy. He fucking hates him. His fists clench by his side before sidling up next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist. You stumble when he pulls you toward him. “She was paying attention. Are you implying that she wasn’t watching the game?” 

“Anakin, it’s fine,” you place your hand on Anakin’s chest to calm him. “I’m sure that’s not what Jeff meant.” 

“Yeah, man, not at all. I’ve had a couple of close calls myself.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been hit in the head a couple of times with the way you introduced yourself,” Anakin spits. “Who has to think about their name? ‘Oh, um, I can’t remember. I think my name is Jeff,’” Anakin mocks.  

“Anakin, stop,” you try pushing away from him. “You’re being incredibly rude.” 

“I don’t care,” he replies. He begins ushering you away from Walmart Captain Kirk. “We’re leaving.” 

“Seriously, Anakin,” you manage to slither out of Anakin’s grasp. “Stop it.” 

“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” Jeff puffs out his chest. 

Anakin steps in front of you and squares himself in front of the guy with no chance with you. “Funny, I was going to ask her the same thing about you.” 

“Are you her boyfriend or something?” 

“He’s not-” you begin, standing on your toes to talk over Anakin’s shoulder. 

“Something like that,” Anakin answers. Huh? 

“Whatever,” Jeff scoffs. “Thanks for wasting my time.” 

“Wait, Jeff!” you call. “It’s not like that-” 

“Let him go,” Anakin grits. “He’s not worth it.” 

You had almost forgotten about the frustration Anakin made you feel in your apartment. Now it’s all coming to the surface again. Yes, you feel bad for abandoning him and not bringing him his beer but he had no right to ruin your conversation like that. “Oh, and you are?”

“We’re not talking about this here.” Anakin turns and expects you to follow. You have half a mind not to scream at him in the middle of the party but it would be a waste of breath. He’s already nearing the door. You down the rest of your beer and follow Anakin out of the party and onto the street. 

It feels drastically colder outside but perhaps it’s all coming from Anakin’s stare. You stuff your hands beneath your arms in an attempt to keep them warm. “What the hell, Anakin? What was that all about?” 

“Nothing.” 

“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘nothing’? That was not nothing, Anakin. That was… that was…” you search for the word but your toes are starting to freeze. You don’t know how frozen toes correlate to not being able to think, but it does. The wind is biting at your legs and your teeth are chattering. 

“Jealousy?” Anakin fills in the blank. 

“Yes! Jealousy! Are you fucking jealous, Anakin?” 

“So what if I am?” 

You’re both shouting unnecessarily but you’re fucking pissed. This cannot be the way you admit your feelings for each other. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. It’s supposed to be romantic. It’s supposed to happen when you’re strolling through the park and the leaves are falling around you and you kiss and everything falls into place. It’s not supposed to happen during a screaming match on the sidewalk while you’re dressed like a historically inaccurate pirate. 

“So what if I feel like punching every single guy who talks to you? Or even look at you? Hm?” Anakin is backing you into the wall and you have no choice but to retreat. “I am jealous every fucking day. I feel possessive over you and I know I shouldn’t. You’re mine, even though you’re not.” Anakin has caged you in with his arms pressed against the wall above your head. His leg is nudged between yours and if you just lower yourself a tiny bit, you might feel a bit of friction where it’s needed. 

Anakin drops his head down so his nose brushes against your cheek. Your lips are so close, you can feel the warmth of his breath. “You never asked me,” you whisper. 

“What?” 

“You never asked me to be yours,” you unzip Anakin’s sweatshirt and slide your arms into the warmth of his jacket. You press yourself against his chest and you think perhaps everything is falling into place.

“Then I’m asking you now,” Anakin cradles your face in his hands. He runs his thumbs over your cheekbones and wonders why it took so damn long to finally get to this point. “Will you be mine?” 

“I already am.” You pull Anakin down to your lips by the collar of his sweatshirt. He tastes like Altoids and you taste like beer, which isn’t necessarily a pleasant combination but it doesn’t matter. Anakin’s lips are so plush and soft, everything you dreamed they’d be but better. They work against yours like it’s the only thing they’re made for. He’s groaning against you, slipping his tongue carefully past your lips. He’s not overzealous with it like some people are. It’s just perfect. He’s perfect. 

The heat in your core continues to grow and spread throughout your body, suddenly warming you up. “Anakin,” you murmur. 

“Hmm?” He replies, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. He pays attention to your neck—which smells of vanilla and everything nice— and is nibbling gently but kissing harshly. His hands have found their way to your breasts, massaging you through your bra and you just fucking wish he’d stop for a second because it’s all too distracting. 

“Anakin, stop,” you breathe out. 

“What? What, are you okay?” Anakin withdraws himself from you completely and you damn near whine at the loss of contact.

“I’m fine, Ani. More than fine.” 

Anakin relaxes at your assurance and takes a moment to admire you. Your hat is askew on your head and your shirt is crooked from him cupping with your boobs. He hopes the corset isn’t difficult to take off… 

“Anakin?” you snap your fingers in front of his face. 

“Huh?” 

“What are you thinkin’ about, pretty boy?” 

“So many things,” Anakin smirks.  

“Care to enlighten me at my apartment?” 

“Way ahead of you, babe.” Anakin whips out his phone and orders an Uber. He’s not walking five blocks back to your apartment with a hard-on. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

You have no clue how either of you manage to keep your hands to yourself in the Uber, but you do. You hardly make it through your door before Anakin’s lips are back on yours with a heavy desperation. He throws your hat off, letting it land who knows where. His hand is on the back of your neck and you’re doing a clumsy dance around your living room. You’re tugging at the roots of his wavy hair, which he’s been growing out since last semester. 

You and Anakin are a mess of hands as you’re both trying to get the other’s clothes off with your mouths still attached to each other. He’s fumbling with the laces of your corset and you wonder how long it will take him to realize there’s a zipper in the back. 

You shrug off his sweatshirt, leaving him in a basic white tee. Anakin reluctantly breaks away from you when he accepts he’s getting nowhere with your corset. “This thing is fucking impossible,” he groans. 

You giggle as you draw the zipper down your back and remove the black corset from your body. You let it drop to the floor as you drape your arms around Anakin’s neck. “You were saying?” 

“I hate you,” Anakin says with a smile. 

“You love me.” 

“So much,” he replies, lips trailing down your neck once again. “I love you so much it consumes me. I’ve tried to fill this void inside of me with other women but it’s never enough. It’s not enough because they’re not you.”

You’re smiling so widely your cheeks hurt. You consume him. He loves you. You’ve never been happier. “I love you too, Anakin. You have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” he smiles. He grabs a fistful of your skirt and slips his hands beneath the hem to find your panties. “Are you going to let me take care of you tonight?” 

“Anything,” you nod, giving him the permission to remove your panties. You take off your boots and blouse and while it’s by no means a show, Anakin is enjoying every second of it. 

“I’ll let you do anything, Anakin.” You unclip your bra so all that you’re left in is your skirt. Anakin is still wearing a shirt and jeans, which is only mildly infuriating since his golden tan skin looks so radiant against the bright white of his shirt. 

As Anakin admires you, he can’t possibly be filled with any more lust than he is right now. Three years of pining after you is surging through his veins and his cock is insanely hard. He’s imagined this so many times. Would he fuck you slowly? Or maybe you’d rather have it fast and hard. Do you like to be called sweet things? Would you be his good girl? Or would you rather be his little slut? 

He’s overwhelmed with the incessant need to taste your cunt. “Get on the couch,” he instructs. “Take your skirt off, too. I want to see all of you.” 

You nod and once you’ve stepped out of the fabric, you situate yourself on your couch. Anakin kneels down in front of you and resists the urge to spread your legs open so he can see your pussy. “You have to take something off, too,” you say sweetly.  

Anakin swiftly tears his shirt over his head and you knew he was fit, but you just didn’t realize how fit. “Oh my God,” you practically drool. 

“Yeah?” Anakin smirks whilst hooking his arms beneath your thighs, pulling your ass to the edge of the couch. His cock strains against his jeans even more now that he can see your glistening pussy. “You like what you see, sweetheart?” 

You shrug. “Mm, yeah. It’s alright, I guess.” 

“You’re a little brat,” Anakin says before kissing up your thigh. The feather-light touch of his warm lips makes you wiggle. Your hand rests atop of Anakin’s head, fingers massaging his scalp in an effort to keep him traveling up to your core. “You’re lucky I can’t resist a pretty pussy like yours.” 

“Is it the prettiest?” 

Anakin lays a kiss on the inside of your other thigh. His nose brushes against your clit as he places a chaste kiss over your folds while running two fingers down your slit. “No doubt about it, babe,” Anakin praises. Fuck, you smell divine. He wants to spend all day between your thighs.  “The absolute prettiest. Bet you taste the sweetest, too.”

With that, Anakin dips a finger inside of you, making you gasp. “Fuck, sweetheart,” Anakin sucks in a breath. He lays his head on your thigh to watch his finger disappear inside of you and then reappear glistening with your juices. “How can you be this wet already? I’ve barely gotten started.” 

You roll your head along the couch cushions, impossibly worked up and craving more than just one of Anakin’s fingers. “Then show me what you’re made of, Skywalker.” 

Oh, that sends a jolt straight through Anakin’s cock. He wastes no more time teasing you and slips another finger into your hole while attaching his lips to your clit. He flicks the tip of his tongue over your bundle of nerves, two long fingers are curling against your walls, and Anakin can’t get enough. Pussy just tastes better when you love the person you’re eating out. It’s pure saccharine to him. He needs it pumped into his blood to survive. 

Anakin finesses his cock out of his pants and strokes himself several times to alleviate the terrible pain that has come over him. Your strangled cries of pleasure and hand on his head pushing him further into your cunt encourages Anakin to add a third finger. “Anakin! Fuck!” 

“You like that, baby?” Anakin is breathless, lips coated with your nectar. “You like being stretched by my fingers?” 

“Mm,” you hum, fisting his hair, “yes.” 

“Bet you do.” Anakin bites the inside of your thigh and pumps his three digits agonizingly slowly so he can really admire the stretch. It’s a toe curling sensation and a bit foreign more than anything. You had no idea fingers could feel so good. Maybe it’s just Anakin’s. He places the pad of his thumb on your clit, applying even pressured circles and yeah, it’s totally just Anakin who makes you feel this good. “Good little whores love to be stretched out.” 

“Oh my God!” you exclaim, pussy clenching at Anakin calling you a whore. Your bodily response doesn’t go unnoticed by Anakin. No, he’s storing all of this in his memory, creating a file of all the things that make you go wild. “Fuck me, Anakin. Please.” 

“Currently doing that with fingers, sweetheart.” He pumps his fingers faster but rolls over your nub with a more delicate touch. By now you’re squirming off of the couch, heels digging into the cushion and all you can do is chant Anakin’s name. You’re caught in a dichotomy of wanting to cum while also wanting Anakin’s cock. “C’mon, angel, let it go. I want you to cum on my fingers before you take my cock.” 

“But I- hngh…” your words are mangled as it’s no longer an option to stave off your orgasm. Your clit is overly sensitive and the tightness in your tummy begins to unravel as your walls pulse around Anakin’s three fingers. “Mm— oh, fuck! Ani-”

“That’s it, baby,” Anakin coos. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cum.” He draws his fingers from you one by one, each time making you cry from emptiness. Anakin sits beside you on the couch, bringing his fingers soaked in your goodness up to your mouth. You open obediently, only taking in two of them. Your tangy sweetness coats your tongue and you’re looking straight into Anakin’s ocean eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel seasick. 

When Anakin takes his fingers out of your mouth, you maneuver yourself on top of Anakin. The rough denim of his jeans creates a rough contrast to the silky tip of his cock poking your thigh. He manages to get his jeans down his legs and around his ankles. Kicking his feet out of them impatiently, his large hands find a home on your breasts while you grab the base of him and position him under your cunt. He’s kneading your mounds gently, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You slot your lips between his as you lower yourself onto his lap. 

“F-fuck, Ani,” you rest your forehead on Anakin’s as your breathing becomes one. He runs his hands down your tummy, landing on your waist and gives you an encouraging squeeze. “So big, so full,” you murmur. Anakin guides your hips forward and backward, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He’s sucking down hard, no other thought other than claiming you as his.

It’s fucking magnificent having his cock nestled deep inside of you while you’re moaning in his ear, and soft hands roaming his upper body. His hands drop down to your ass, grabbing a handful of your peachy cheeks. You start bouncing on his cock, each time you drop down you feel like he’s in your stomach. “Cunt’s so fuckin’ greedy,” Anakin groans. “You just can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” 

“Mmh, nuh uh,” you babble mindlessly. Your legs are starting to ache but the pain goes in tandem with the pleasure. Anakin presses your chest to his with his arms around your back. You kiss along his jaw lazily, feeling your energy deplete with each landing on Anakin’s thick length. “Need you to…mmm-” 

“Say no more.” Anakin flips you over seamlessly with his cock still anchored inside of you. He hikes your leg over his shoulder and he drills into you at a delicious new angle. His fingers fall to your clit and it sends you soaring. “Fuck,” Anakin breathes. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this tight cunt from me for three years.” 

“Y-yours now,” you have some brain cells left to respond. He’s fucking you hard, tits bouncing with each thrust and Anakin just has to have one in his mouth. While he encloses his lips over one of your nipples, he cups your other breast in his hand. He flicks his tongue across your bud and suckles, as if there’s something in there to nourish him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant. It’s all getting to be too much. The bulge you feel in your belly, the pressure on your clit, Anakin’s warm mouth on your breast. How is he so good at doing so many things? “Ani, I’m close.” 

“I feel it, angel,” Anakin drags his lips across your chest and up your neck until he reaches his final destination. With his lips slotted between yours once more, the roll of his hips is languid and methodical. He’s bringing you along gradually, until your second orgasm washes over you and your limbs are convulsing. You moan into Anakin’s mouth and he swallows it happily. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?” 

“Mouth!” you manage to say. Anakin loses every single semblance of control he had when you utter that one word. He pulls out of you just as he begins to cum, hot ropes landing on your chest before he’s propped his foot by your head and shoves his cock between your lips. 

Your warm mouth welcomes him greedily as his seed coats your tongue. “Shit,” Anakin grumbles. “Such a little cum slut.” 

You nod submissively, wrapping your hands around the rest of his length, all slippery from your juices. You look so fucking sexy with his dick in your mouth, he can’t even think straight. You on the other hand, you could suck his cock all damn day. You don’t even have to think while you’re doing it, you’ll just let your hands, mouth, and tongue do whatever they want. It isn’t until you feel his dick start to soften do you realize he’s finished releasing his load. 

Anakin breathlessly slumps down on the other side of your couch. You scoop up his cum from your chest and bring it to your mouth. “Don’t. Don’t fucking do that,” Anakin says rather firmly. 

“Why not?” you blink innocently. 

“You know exactly why.” 

You don’t reply. Instead, you crawl over to him, pulling the blanket that’s draped over the back of your couch and lay on top of Anakin’s chest. He lets you get comfortable as you’re sandwiched between his body and the back cushions of your couch. Once you’ve settled, his strong arm holds you against him protectively. He kisses the top of your head gently and mumbles something you can’t understand. 

Neither of you say anything the rest of the night. Anakin isn’t a man of many words, anyway. But when he has something to say, he’ll make sure he gets his point across. The point he made tonight was very clear. 

He loves you.

remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!

(ps i'm not a yankees or mets fan. hayden's sweatshirt just kinda looks like the yankees logo even though i know it's not. okay that's it.)

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#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x f!reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin skywalker one shot #modern!anakin skywalker #modern anakin skywalker #modern!au #college au #modern au

[strawberryspence]

Eddie’s never been in a serious relationship. He’s used to kissing in the dark alleys of a bar, murmured lies underneath bleachers. He was never the one to be shown off, to be proud off and celebrated. No matter how much he yearned for it, he was never meant to be that person. 

Not until he meets Steve Harrington. And god, to be loved by him really makes Eddie rethink all of his preconceived opinions. Maybe Eddie is serious relationship material. 

But Steve… Steve’s a hopeless romantic. He gets him a set of D&D dices just because he thought Eddie would love them. Opens the door for him, opens the car for him. Tries to learn his hobbies, learns to like it. The first time they slept together, Eddie woke up with breakfast in bed. Which was fucking ridiculous because Steve should be the one waking up with breakfast in bed. He buys Eddie flowers for every date, even though Eddie teases him for it. 

And Eddie— Eddie’s a newbie in this. He’s been trying his best to catch up in the romance department. He resolves to do something when Steve got him some tulips for a date once and Eddie brought it up. 

“I love it, Stevie. It’s so nice to get flowers, hmmm?” Eddie smiles, a little bit dazed with affection as he smells the flower. 

Eddie would like to think he knows Steve’s expressions pretty well. So when he sees that beautiful smile drop from his boyfriend’s face, it all clicks for Eddie.

Steve Harrington has never gotten flowers. 

Eddie starts with those flowers in Melvald’s. Joyce has very nicely informed him that they are called Gerberas. Eddie got Steve a bunch of different colors. It’s not that big, just a small bundle. He didn’t want to over do it, just wanted to test the waters. Find out how his boyfriend feels about getting flowers.

It’s embarrassing walking with a bunch of flowers, with his whole metal thing but all of that vanishes when Eddie picks Steve up for a date and he sees the flowers in Eddie’s hands. 

“What’s that for?” Steve looks at the flowers warily. 

Eddie smiles, trying to hide the nerves he’s been feeling since he got the flowers, “For you, sunshine. They reminded me of you so I got them.” 

Like everything else he’s offered Steve— his friendship, his life, his heart— Eddie holds out his hand with just enough courage.

Steve takes the flowers with reluctance, staring at it with fondness and some other emotion Eddie can’t pinpoint. 

They sit in silence for a minute, as Steve just stares and as Eddie just stands with his nerves. Eddie opens his mouth to take it back, and to just swallow the embarrassment. Maybe flowers just ain’t for everyone. 

But then, Steve starts tearing up, sniffling a little, as he blinks at Eddie, “I love it, baby. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” 

Eddie stares in shock as his boyfriend runs back into the house to put it in a vase. Steve’s eyes are still red around the rims when he finally comes out, his nose scrunched up from the sniffling. 

Eddie doesn’t bring it up, he knows Steve won’t want to talk about it. But if they’re a little clingy with each other in the coming days, who’s gonna be mad? 

Since then, Eddie’s made it his life mission to get Steve flowers on the randomest days. He’ll get Steve some sunflowers on bad days, maybe pick him some daisies from the field for when Steve picks the kids up from Hellfire.

Till to this day, Steve gets a little teary eyed when Eddie gets him a random flower. It melts Eddie’s heart into a goo, that this simple action makes his boyfriend tear up with joy. He thinks, in a few more weeks, he’ll garner enough courage to buy flowers and just tell Steve that he loves him. 

It goes on for a few weeks before it comes to a halting stop one random summer day. Steve’s car had to go into the shop for maintenance, so Eddie picked him up and dropped him off to work. When he’s about to pick him up, Eddie goes and picks up some carnations Joyce had reserved for him.  

“Hello, to my favorite lesbian.” Eddie greets when he enters the Family Video store, only seeing Robin at the counter. He closes the doors behind him, flipping the sign from open to close.

“Hello to you too, my favorite gay.” Robin lights up, throwing away the magazine she’s reading. 

“I am here to pick you and the majesty.” Eddie dramatically bows, the flowers still in his hand.

Robin laughs, making grabby hands at him, “You could’ve just picked us up. No need for flowers, you know?” 

Eddie laughs. Whoops, maybe he should’ve gotten something for Robin too. “I am sorry, Robin. This ones for my Stevie. I’ll get you something next time.” 

Robin stares at him, blinking in surprise, “Those flowers are for Steve?” 

Eddie nods enthusiastically. 

“Steve? Our Steve?” 

Eddie squints at her, “Do we have any other Steve?” 

“Our Steve… who is… very much allergic to flowers?”

Eddie blinks at her with owlish eyes. 

“No, he’s not!” He exclaims. 

Robin looks at him, and back to the flowers, then back to him again. She gets this look on her face, like she holds the key to the universe. If Eddie squints really hard, he can see the bulb lighting on her head. 

But then she bursts out of laughter. Bend to your knees, hitting the floor, aching ribs kind of laughter. 

Okay, Eddie’s kinda offended now. 

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asks, unable to hide his frown. 

“What’s happening?” Steve comes out from the backroom, confused with Robin’s laughter. “Oh, hey Eds!” 

Robin turns to him, pointing and red on the face with laughter,  “Oh my god. Steve— you’re freaking whipped!” 

“What?” Steve turns to her with confusion. 

Eddie and Steve just stare at her as she takes her time to calm down. 

“I thought…” Robin takes a breath, “I thought you were having a very extreme allergic reaction to spring. I was this close to booking you an appointment with the doctor! You didn’t tell me you were getting flowers from Eddie.” 

Eddie turns to his boyfriend, “Stevie? Are you allergic to flowers?” 

“No!” Steve exclaims. He grabs the flowers out of Eddie’s hands, “See! I am fine!” 

“Steve.” Robin warns.

“I am fine! I love getting flowers from you, Eds. It’s— it’s the best.” 

They stare at each other. Steve squints, his nose scrunching up when he gets a whiff of the flowers. 

“Achoo!” 

“You are allergic!” Eddie exclaims, points an accusing finger at him. 

“I am sorry!” Steve says, his eyes watering again. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?! What kind of boyfriend am I?” Eddie pulls on his hair in frustration, bringing it into his mouth, “Jesus! I was giving you so many flowers! You must’ve felt awful! How could I have not seen that?!” 

“Eddie—“ Steve moves closer. 

“I thought you were crying with joy when I gave you flowers. It was allergies! Why didn't you tell me?!”

“Oh my god!” Robin shouts, making both of them freeze. She turns to Steve, “Steve! Why didn't you tell your boyfriend you were allergic? That’s dumb and made you sick!” 

She then turns to Eddie, “And Eddie! Steve's extremely, insanely, in love with you to the point that he’ll accept the flowers from you! It’s nothing against you! He wants the flowers, his body doesn’t!” 

Huh? 

“What did you say?” Eddie croaks out, breathless with disbelief. 

“Robin.” Steve gasps. 

Robin rolls her eyes, “I said Steve is extremely—“ She stops, her eyes widening in realization, “Uh-oh. Uhm.” 

She perks up, cupping her ears, “What’s that? Did you guys hear that? I think there’s a raccoon in the backroom. Let me check. You guys stay here.” Robin basically zooms out of the room.  Eddie has never seen her move that fast, and they fought an evil wizard together.

Eddie turns to Steve when they’re finally alone. 

“Give me that.” Eddie says, pulling the flowers away from Steve.

“That’s mine.” Steve pouts. 

“Sunshine, you’re allergic.” Eddie keeps the flowers away from him, tucking it on the table. They stand awkwardly around each other, not knowing what to say. 

“Did you hear—“

“What was Robin—“

Eddie smiles at him, softening when he sees Steve chew on his lips nervously, “You first, Stevie.”

Steve nods, gulping as his eyes finally meet Eddie’s, “I am sorry for not telling you. I really loved the flowers and I honestly thought the medication would be enough. Maybe next time, you can tell me beforehand so I can take some and actually enjoy being around them.” 

“I am never getting you flowers anymore if it gets you all sniffly.” Eddie chuckles at Steve’s headstrong perspective, “So— Uh— About what Robin said…” 

Steve straightens up, stammering to spit the words out, “You don’t have to say anything! I am not forcing you to say anything, Edd. We could forget it even happened. Who even is Robin?” 

Eddie moves closer, pushing Steve in between the aisles of the store where no one from outside can see them. 

“I just want to know if it’s true, Stevie.” Eddie whispers, his own voice quivering with anxiety and anticipation. 

Steve stares at him, sensing his boyfriend’s own worry. The nerves in his face melted into an affectionate smile. 

“Eds, baby. I kept all the flowers you gave me till they died even though it gave me the worst allergies. Of course, I am," He scoffs, "As Robin has said, extremely, insanely, in love with you.” 

Eddie breaks into a smile, “Well, I am also extremely, maybe even more insanely, in love with you. The flowers weren’t exactly fitting my metal image, but I was still out there picking out flowers in the field.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “Oh, you’re annoying.” 

There’s no more words said after that. Well, because they started making out right there, all the newly found love and emotions all in the open. That in itself is enough for now.

After the night Eddie found out that Steve’s allergic, Eddie calls El up. The next day, El teaches Eddie how to make origami flowers.

Eddie never buys flowers for Steve ever again. 

He makes it for him instead.

(No one tell Steve, but in a few years, Eddie will ask him to unfold the paper flowers. Only to find a question wedged between its stems and folds. Steve says yes to the question, with real tears of joy.

On their wedding day, Steve will walk down another aisle, a bouquet of handmade flowers made from Eddie's hospital discharge papers and NDAs in his hand.)

#i didnt proofread this sorry #PROOF I CAN WRITE FLUFF #ILL TAKE THIS AS A WIN #WEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHH #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson fluff #steddie rants #steddie headcanon #steddie ficlet #dae writes #daeheadcanons

[staratie]

straw hats giving you flowers

sfw, spin-off ending of the silent treatment, used this website for flower meanings summary: the silent treatment lasted longer than either of you expected. after docking at a village harbor, your pirate goes to the village floral shop to fix it.

“how badly did you piss ‘em off?” the florist asks. “bad.” he sighs. “flowers aren't just flowers. each one has meaning. let me help you find the perfect one...”

Zoro - daisy (loyal love)

It is a simple flower, but had a lot of meeting.

Zoro is loyal to the crew and Luffy when it comes to friendship. You, on the other hand, are different. Of course he loves you, not as a friend, but something more.

He’d never admit it, but he was hoping his apology flower would help you understand his feelings.

“Look, I'm sorry.” He says, caving in. “Here's a flower. I miss talking to you.”

Sanji - purple hyacinth (please forgive me)

Sanji didn’t need help when it came to finding the perfect bouquet for you. The man knew almost everything about romance, so when the florist offered their services, he politely declined.

After having the florist wrap the hyacinths in pretty paper, he marched to you, gently grabbed your hand, and presented the purple bouquet.

“These are for you.” He said confidently. He cleared his hands once you were holding the flowers and added, “forgive me. I caused you distress which you didn’t deserve. I’ll do whatever I can in my power to mend what I tore.”

Taking a risk, he kissed your forehead and smiled, noticing that you didn’t pull back.

Luffy - red roses (love)

You not talking to him was no joke. Luffy understood that the crew members needed their own space, but you totally ignoring him got him upset.

He didn’t mean to say those words. It wasn’t his intention to hurt you.

Luffy loved you, and decided to be (very) straightforward to you by buying the flowers of love.

When the guy presented you the roses, and playfully pushed them into your arms, he said, “I was mean. I hate seeing you like this and I’m sorry.” You couldn’t help but give him a one-armed hug and whisper that you forgive him.

Usopp - daffodils - (the sun is always shining when i'm with you)

Kaya gave him advice when it came to relationships, mainly because she wanted him to be prepared for one in case they didn’t work out or if got serious.

Usopp was thankful for her advice because it helped him and you sort out arguments and “oppsyy” moments.

After buying you the yellow flowers, he held them behind his back as he walked to you. When you two were face to face, he looked at you straight in the eyes and said, “I’m sorry.” He wanted to be a little extra so he continued, “you are the sunshine in my sky, which is me. I’m the sky. Without you, I’m sad and boring.”

It was ridiculous but thoughtful. You gave him a soft kiss on his lips and forgive him. “My sun’s back!” He calls out with glee.

#one piece #one piece live action #roronoa zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #luffy x reader #one piece headcanons #usopp x reader #luffy headcanons #usopp headcanons #vinsmoke sanji headcanons #sanji headcanons #roronoa zoro headcanons #zoro headcanons #monkey d. luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy headcanons

[magics-neptunes-things]

Clingy Girl

Hi guys ♥

This is a request from here! I love writing for Ona and I missed it so here you are :)

Next one will be the end of Collide, with Leah Williamson.

Enjoy ♥

TW : None :)

______________________________________________________________

The first time you were introduced to Ona, officially, was when she arrived in Barcelona. You’ve been there for two seasons when the Catalan made her appearance in Barcelona. And the least we can say is that you were the victim of what is called a real love at first sight. At the same time, how could it be otherwise?

Ona is a real ray of sunshine in your life since her arrival, completely changing your established routine until now. And more, she even flipped your life and your world upside down. You still don’t understand how and why, but Ona quickly made you understand that your feelings were reciprocal and just two weeks after her return to Barcelona, she asked you for a date.

A second followed quickly, initiated by you this time, then a third. And your first kiss, your first moments, your first sleepless nights talking about everything and other occupations that are only yours. You quickly found yourself addicted to her, you just can’t spend a day away from her without it being torture.

You have decided to keep your relationship secret, however, including for your teammates, wishing to distinguish between your private and professional life. This doesn't prevent you from sitting next to her when traveling or sometimes being partners during workouts.

The most complicated thing though is the fact that Ona is terribly tactile. It's with everyone really and therefore with you too. She never has any gestures with you that would make think of anything other than friendship. The problem is the sensations it gives you and the constant work you have to do on yourself to not forget that you are in public.

Today, it’s a little more difficult than usual, for both of you. Ona flew a few days to Manchester to meet Leila Ouahabi and her girlfriend, one of her closest friends.

You couldn’t go with her because you had things to do for your sponsors, and needless to say, you missed her terribly. You had trouble sleeping alone and ended up miserably falling asleep in front of the television the two nights of her absence. You saw that some people imagined romance scenarios between the two Spaniards, which made you roll your eyes. The girl who posted the photos of Ona and Leila being her girlfriend, it would be more very strange if something happened between them. But it’s probably the downside of not talking about your relationship officially.

The day of her return, Ona arrives around 10:30 in Barcelona while the training starts at 12:00. Needless to say, she doesn’t have time to go home to change. But you offered to take her at the airport that’s why you find yourself in the arrivals hall of Barcelona, making the hundred steps while waiting for your girlfriend.

When she finally appears, you must refrain from jumping on her and settle for a simple hug. You briefly close your eyes and slide your face into her hair in a way that may differ from a hug between two friends, but you can’t help it. Ona's arms who tightens you against her however make you understand that it doesn't bother the young woman.

You end up releasing her reluctantly, looking greedily at her face. In your opinion, Ona has the most perfect face of creation, drawn by the gods. You still remember Ona’s amused laughter and rolling eyes when you told her, but also her cheeks that were tinged with pink. Ona seems to understand what is going on in your head, since she smiles softly and shakes her head.

"Stop" laughed the Catalan by pushing your shoulder.

"I didn’t do anything" you answer maliciously before taking her bag from her hands.

Ona always smiles when she follows you to your car and again when she sits in the passenger seat. You join her after closing your trunk and dropping her travel bag next to your stuff for training. When you find your place behind the wheel, you feel two hands grabbing by the collar of your jacket and Ona draws you against her to put a kiss on your lips.

You can only smile at her lips, putting a hand on her arm.

"I missed you" whispers Ona against your lips.

You hums for any answer at first, dropping several kisses on her lips before backing away slightly.

"I missed you too. Barcelona sucks when you’re not there"

Ona smiles at you tenderly and releases your jacket only to grab one of your hands that she imprisons between her two to put on her lap. She will not release her until the stadium, despite the different conversations you have during the journey.

Arriving at the stadium, you still exchange several kisses after checking that no one could see you before going to training. You are surprised when you feel Ona clinging to your arm and the look you cast at her must speak for you.

"What? I often do it with Aita" Ona said, shrugging her shoulders.

"If you say so" you laugh softly, laying a kiss on her head.

The smell of her shampoo tickles your nose and you must refrain from looking for her lips again. You can’t wait to go home so you can have her only for you. When Ona presented you her flight plan, you must admit that you didn't imagine that it would be necessary to give you a few hours to meet before going to training.

Ona is practically glued to you on the benches listening to Jona’s tactics for the next game. She grabs your hand again to play with your fingers under the table during the meal and you often have to remember yourself that a simple friend doesn't look at the lips of her friend with envy. When you join the changing rooms to put on your training outfits, you take advantage of Ona’s pretext that shows you something on your phone to stick to her, your hand in the hollow of her back.

"Maybe we should tell them we know and they’re anything but subtle?" whispers Claudia to the attention of Patri who walks behind you, in the company of Salma.

"No way" answers Patri "They are already like that without us knowing, imagine how they can be when they have told us about it"

The answer, said on the tone of humor, makes the other two laugh and attracts your and Ona's attention. But they quickly divert the conversation to something else and you reluctantly remove your hand from Ona’s body, letting your fingers brush against her butt in the process. The look the brunette gives you only lasts a split second, but you can’t hold back your guilty smile.

This gesture is also noticed by Patri who share a glance with Pina.

"I changed my mind" Patri whispers to Claudia, watching you laugh and tease while you change. "But we’ll have some fun before"

Patri is quick to implement her plan and quickly catches up with you both before entering the field.

"Ona, can I talk to you?" asks the Majorcan before taking a look at you and a smile. "Alone?"

"Of course" the Catalan replies curiously, briefly squeezing your hand she was holding before letting go.

You give them a smile in return and join the small group already formed by your teammates in the center of the field. You exchange a few words with Aitana and Jana, waiting your girlfriend’s return. And, when she finally appears with Patri, you can only notice her upset look and frown. It’s subtle and discreet, so others don’t notice. But you do.

Unfortunately, the coaches arrive shortly after. This doesn't allow you to try to question her to know what is going on and when your eyes cross, she simply shakes her head negatively, her eyebrows still frowned. You’re a little worried, to be honest. If you weren’t totally focused on Ona, you would have noticed the amused looks that Patri and Claudia exchange.

You cannot question Ona during the first part of the training and it's only when you have your break to drink that you can finally approach her.

"Are you all right?" you ask softly as you look at her

"Yes" simply answers Ona before putting her bottle back in the fridge.

"Ona" you call softly when you see her ready to leave

Her eyes soften a little when they crosses yours. Her silence worries you as much as her behavior and frustration that seems to increase over time.

"Later, all right?"

You nod and put the gourd in the fridge while biting your lip gently. You feel your stomach writhing under anxiety, you don’t know what it is, but it impacts Ona enough not to tell you directly. And this is probably the first time, you’re not used to your girlfriend keeping things secret between you. The worry must be visible on your face, since Ona grabs your hand, making you slightly startled. You didn’t expect her to be here, but left to train further.

"Don’t make that face" whispers Ona, completely ignorant of Patri and Claudia who are watching you with an amused smile. "Patri asked me if I thought you’d say yes if she asks you to go on a date with her, considering you’re single"

"Patri?!" you whispers too, mechanically looking for the other woman on the field.

In the meantime, she has carefully focused her attention on the stretches she has to do. Frowned, you look thoughtfully for a few seconds, trying to make sense of this information. You get along well with her obviously, but like others on the team. You never imagined a relationship other than friendly with her.

"It doesn’t make any sense" you always whisper by shifting your attention to Ona. "We were never close in that way, even before you came here and she never said or showed anything"

"Really?"

Ona's detached air doesn't deceive you and you sigh softly while rolling with your eyes.

"Of course, I would have told you otherwise"

Ona is content to respond with a vague grunt and thoughtfully bites her lip. Not being able to speak freely is frustrating, but it's obviously out of the question to go hide somewhere to talk. You stroke herhand with your thumb to draw herattention to you before speaking again.

"Don’t worry like that. I will refuse, isn't it obvious?"

"Yes" sighs softly Ona relaxing a little despite everything "It’s just that… I don’t know, I don’t like the idea"

"I understand" you assure her with a slight smile.

If you had been alone you would have taken her to you to hug her, but the whole of your team surrounds you and the fact that you held your hand like this for so long is surely strange enough. Ona gives you a light smile before releasing your hand to return to follow her exercises. Again, your exchange wasn't missed by the duo decided to test you.

Contrary to what you had imagined, Ona didn't go back to the other side of the field to resume training but stayed with you all along. You surprise her several times glaring towards Patri, and you discreetly reminded her that she isn't supposed to blame the Majorcan. It only attracted you grunts for a simple answer, but it didn't take Ona away from you. It gives you the impression of having a bodyguard, provided that a bodyguard literally sticks to you all the way.

At the end of the training, Ona is on edge and doesn't hesitate to grab you by the arm to drag you quickly to the changing rooms. You decide to shower at Ona’s, the brunette hoping to escape Patri, but the latter magically appears outside the door of the locker room when you leave.

"Hey Y/N, I have a question for you"

Patri’s tone is joyful and you see from the corner of the eye Ona darkening next to you. Her arm is literally wrapped around yours in a way that is both possessive and protective and her eyebrows are more gathered than ever.

"What’s going on?" You ask nevertheless trying to keep a neutral face.

"Are you doing something tonight? I thought we could go for a drink or something…"

"Yes she’s doing something" Ona answers in your place, pulling on your arm so that you follow her to the exit.

"Tomorrow then?"

You’ve never seen Ona so nervous before. You’re surprised not to see smoke coming out of her ears.

"Tomorrow too" Ona continues to pull at your arm. "And every other day. Come on, let’s go"

You take a few steps back under Ona's insistence while continuing to observe your interlocutor. It's at this moment that your eyes cross Patri's and you detect something other than the hope of someone who asks someone else on a date. Fun? Mischief? It flips in your head and you suddenly stop walking.

"You know" you accuse her, pointing at her.

"Know what?" Ona grumbles, not enjoying you stopping.

"Yes, I know what?" repeats Patri with a big innocent smile.

Ona ends up also understanding and also turns to face Patri. Her eyebrows are ruffled, but it seems that her annoyance is this time related to the little trick played by Patri. And Claudia, but you don’t know her betrayal yet.

"For Ona and me. That’s why you set up this ridiculous plan to ask me out" you roll your eyes shaking your head.

This makes Patri laugh, who shrugs her shoulders before teasingly putting a hand on your arm.

"Don’t denigrate yourself like that, I could very well have done it" said Patri maliciously.

"Stop" moaned Ona, putting both arms around your waist to take you away from Patri. "How did you know?"

"Everyone knows it or suspects it" laughs the Majorcan again. "We thought it would be fun to tease you before telling you."

"We?" repeats Ona with an arched eyebrow.

"Well, maybe Pina helped me to plan this"

"I hate you, both of you."

"I’ll tell Alexia" you sulk

********

"Ona" you laughs when your girlfriend take you back in the bed with her, grabbing you by a piece of your (her) t-shirt. "I’m thirsty"

It’s been a few hours since you came back from training now, you had plenty of time to shower, have dinner and… well, celebrate Ona's come back in her bedroom.

"Well, you are forbidden to leave me now"

"I never dreamed of it" you assure her while returning in bed to face her, your hand slipping delicately in her hair.

Ona doesn't wait a second to stick against you again, so close that it becomes difficult to say which part of the body belongs to whom. It's however far from disturbing you, the arms of Ona in your back caress you tenderly and her face in the hollow of your neck tickles you delicately.

"I hated this day" mumbles Ona, her lips tickling your skin making you shiver.

"Why? You came home and we’re not so bad here, are we?"

"No" agrees Ona smiling, dropping a new kiss before backing away. "But the part where I thought Patri was genuinely attracted to you, not so much"

"You know very well that I would have said no" you answer by depositing a kiss on the corner of her jaw.

There’s nothing you don’t like about her, but the definition of her jaw, you love it. Like her eyes, her smile, her abs and do not start talking about her hands and arms.

"I know" Ona replies, taking you away from the fantasies of your own girlfriend. "But still. At least now everyone seems to know you’re mine"

"It bothers me less than I could have imagined"

You know you both chose to remain secret, but now that you know the rest of the team knows, you can’t help but say it’s better that way. Ona seems to approve, even if she hums for simple answer, her lips starting to ghost the hollow of your neck.

Despite the teasing of your teammates, nothing will really change in your respective behaviors. Ona and you will continue to exchange complicit and amused looks and smiles regularly, your daily proximity will not change either. The only difference is that now, when you travel for a game, Ona doesn't hesitate to take her naps completely lying on you. And you won’t complain about that either.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso one shot

[blushweddinggowns]

When Nancy’s mom pulled her aside one day to ask her a favor, she never thought that it would involve tutoring the Steve Harrington. The basketball starter that had nearly every girl in their high school wrapped around his finger. 

And sure, Mrs. Harrington was offering some really good pay, but that didn’t mean she wanted to do it. Because Steve was…a lot. He was cocky, he was weirdly aggressive when it came to his drug dealer best friend, and if his grades and lack of self-control were anything to go by, he was also dumb as hell. 

Just because he was the hottest guy in school didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with him. But her mom didn’t really give her a choice, not when she had been vying for Mrs. Harrington’s friendship for years.

And that’s how she found herself on the Harrington doorstep on a Sunday, dreading how tedious trying to make someone with no attention span learn was going to be. She rang the doorbell, impatient for the whole thing to just be done with already. 

She was surprised when it was Eddie Munson who answered the door, clad in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt that Nancy was pretty sure belonged to Steve, unless he had been a secret swimming champion in 1982. For a split second she thought she was at the wrong house, until she remembered that Eddie was supposed to be living in a trailer park. 

He ran a hand through his messy hair, not even the slightest bit embarrassed to be caught without pants on at someone else’s house, “Uh, can I help you?”

“I’m here for Steve? Um, I’m his tutor? Nancy Wheeler?” She wasn’t sure why she said her own name like it was a question, but the way Eddie was staring her down had her uncharastically nervous. 

But his eyes brightened at the word tutor. He stepped aside to let her in, “Oh yeah! He told me that was today, I guess we just lost track of time. Wait here. I’ll go get him. You want a muffin? I literally just made them, unless you're allergic to chocolate? But if you’re not they’re like, really good, my uncle’s recipe so you can trust it.”

He was talking a mile a minute as he led her into the house, happy in a way she never would have expected from him. In school he was so…defensive. Always willing to cut down anyone who made a comment about his weird sense of style. And there was also the little known fact that he sold freaking ketamine in the woods behind school with a small history of violence and theft. She kind of thought that the drug dealer whose wardrobe half consisted of skulls wouldn’t be the type of guy to bake muffins. 

But that didn’t mean she didn’t want one. 

“Um, sure?” She said, jumping a little when Eddie suddenly tossed one her way. 

Before she could even say thank you he was two-stepping his way up the stairs, whistling a tune that Nancy couldn’t help but smile at. If Eddie Munson could be so nice, then the odds of Steve turning out to not be a total dick were looking pretty good.

She could hear him slam a door open upstairs, voice loud and obnoxious, “Time to wake up sunshine! You got some learning to do!”

Nancy wandered over to the stairs as she ate, happily surprised at just how good it was. She couldn't hear much else, just a few groans and some shuffling, then something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle before the two of them made their way back downstairs. 

Steve was just as disheveled as Eddie was, hair a mess as he blearily blinked into the light, like it wasn’t already noon. He at least had the decency to put on pants though, something that Eddie had decided was superfluous. 

He waved at her as they came down, at least apologetic, “Hi, I’m Steve. Sorry about that. I was up late last night doing- I mean watching movies. Kind of let the day get away from me a little bit.”

He put out his hand for Nancy to shake and she couldn’t help but notice just how big they were. She took it, suddenly a little flustered as she spoke, “Nancy. And we’ve uh, actually met before. Believe it or not.”

Steve blinked at her, mind obviously racing to try and figure out when he’d seen her before, “Please don’t tell me we used to date.”

“No we didn’t but- wait. You don’t remember all the girls you’ve dated?” Nancy raised a brow at him, suddenly a lot less impressed. Just how big of a player was this guy?

But at least he had the good grace to look embarrassed, “I-well, it’s not like that. I-”

Eddie put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in the midst of his stuttering sentence, “Stevie, stop while you're ahead. Now go get some food so your brain can actually function.”

Surprisingly, Steve obeyed, just like that. He just nodded and puttered into the kitchen, leaving Eddie and Nancy to follow him. 

Eddie leaned over, stage-whispering in her ear, “He’s usually a lot more charming after he’s been conscious for more than 5 minutes. I swear.”

They rounded the corner, just in time to see Steve eat half a muffin in one bite. He moaned at the taste of it, and Nancy was suddenly blushing for the second time in one day. 

He smiled at Eddie, hearts in his eyes, “How are you so good at everything?”

Nancy was starting to understand why her mom always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. If she didn’t know any better she’d say that Steve was seconds away from asking Eddie to ride into the sunset together. 

Eddie shrugged, even though his face was positively pleased. Steve finished the rest of it with a dreamy sigh, eyes still locked on Eddie.

“God, I love-” Steve coughed mid sentence, and for a second Nancy was sincerely worried that he had managed to choke on a piece of muffin. But the next moment he was fine, glancing over at her before straightening, “Uh, when my parents are gone. You can eat anything you want. Thanks for making them dude.”

Eddie snorted, barely managing to keep his laughter inside, “No problem, dude. But now that you're functioning I’ll let you guys get to it. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

Nancy wasn’t sure just what they would need him for, but Steve nodded anyway. It was almost weird, just how comfortable Eddie was in his house. She had half expected him to leave after he dragged Steve downstairs, especially since it was a school night, but the way he sprawled himself out on the couch said otherwise. 

They set themselves up at the kitchen table, Nancy with their biology book in hand and Steve with a second muffin. She cracked her book open, internally preparing herself for an afternoon of frustration. So imagine her surprise when none came. 

Because Steve Harrington was nothing like she expected. He wasn’t some undiscovered genius or anything, but he was diligent. He didn’t try to make a move on her, which her friends had definitely warned her about when they first heard she was tutoring him. He never got mad when he didn’t understand something, or even impatient. If anything he was just apologetic, a constant barrage of I’m sorry coming out of his mouth whenever he got something wrong that she already explained.

It was endearing to say the least. He even offered to drive her home after. She hadn’t realized that the offer included Eddie poking at him from the back seat and complaining about the music the whole ride home, but still. It was a nice gesture. 

When her mom asked her how it went she didn’t even have to lie. It went great. Not even on the whole he wasn’t a dick side of things. He was making ground when it came to his schoolwork, he just needed a little bit of extra attention. 

She found herself laying in bed that night with a smile on her face, more than excited to see Steve again. Maybe they’d even manage to get a little alone time, just so she could get to know him a bit better.

For strictly tutoring reasons, of course. 

~

Part 1.5 Part 2 Part 3

From an unpublished chapter of this fic (But I'll probably add part two and the reveal here because it kind of works with tumblr formatting!)

#secret relationship steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #nancy wheeler #the universe trapped in your skin #unrequited crush #sorry nancy #boy's taken #stranger things #season 1 rewrite #childhood friends au #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things season 1 rewrite #stranger things fic

[gurugirl]

Gurugirl's Wattpad & Tumblr Fic Recs

Anything you read in these masterlists won’t disappoint but I’ve picked my absolute favorites from each blog and listed below.

NOTE: I did my best to include all my faves here but I've probably forgotten a few. I intend to add to this list (may need to make a part 2 once I hit my mentions and link limits) because I'm always reading new fics so come back often!

Angst recs (all taken from list below but specific to the more angsty ones)

Daddy kink

Enemies to lovers

Summer vibes & party fics

Personal faves from my own writings

Other blogs I love

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@1d1195

One Shot: Right Here: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc.

@a-strange-familiar

Series: His Memories (3 parts): you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other. And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.

@adorebeaa

One shot: Undo Me: YN reveals a kink in front of best friend!Harry, who is curious…

@awideworldoffanfics

Series: Milking the Grip (5 parts): Harry Styles is a single dad who golfs every Tuesday. Y/N is his babysitter who also happens to work at the golf course he goes to. They’ve never run into each other there. Until they do.

@be-with-me-so-happily

Series: My Way Back Home: YN is left to figure out what to do when the love of her life, Harry, does not remember loving her. (AU)

Series: Don't Worry Darling: Y/N has her first big break as an actress as she lands the leading role in 'Don't Worry Darling'. The only problem is that her co-star is Harry Styles, who she feels has a very big ego. Tensions rise the more they film. All kinds of tension...

One Shot: Friendly Favor: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.

Series: Laceleaf: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.

@bopbopstyles

Masterlist (anything you pick here will be a pleasure - seriously)

@fkinavocado

Series: Daddy Issues: in which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them. (daddy!harry, dilf!harry)

Series: Hard Candy: in which Harry owns a candy store and he just loves giving good girls special treats… especially after closing time (candyman!Harry)

One Shots & Blurbs: Long Hair Harry One Shots & Blurbs

@freedomfireflies

Series: Playboy: Welcome to 1965, where the women are loose, and the morals are looser. Here you'll meet Michelle and Harry. You don't need to know too much about them. Just that they're both incredibly bold...and incredibly jealous. The summer of June 1965 was a rather wild one for the Playboy Bunnies but even more wild for our two dear friends. Stick around and I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you all about it. You just have to promise one little thing... Don't tell Hefner.

Series: Teach Me: 5 parts - Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?

Series: Mafia!harry: 2 parts so far - more to come - Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right. Exhibition kink!!

@goldenbuckyyy

Series: Illicit Affairs: A series of events between your affair with Harry. (Cheating together)

@harryistheonlyoneforme

One Shot: Little Freak: pairing: dbf harry x reader (so hot - so many kinks all in one little shot - must read)

@harrywritingsbyme

Sneaking Around (a series of shorts): Best friends dad - FUCKING HOT

@helladirections

Series: Brother's Best Friend: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words. 

One Shot: Under Summer Skies: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.

One Shot: Moka Pot: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together? 

@itslottiehere

One Shot: I Don't Want to Hear About Him (angsty): bff!harry writes a song about bff!reader.. and her boyfriend.

@jawllines

Harry is Y/n's Criminology Instructor (2 parts)

Harry is a single dad and y/n is surprisingly good at babysitting (2 parts)

Harry & y/n are witches, they hate eachother, and something's coming (3 parts)

Y/n knows something she shouldn't and Harry does what on Fridays? (4 parts) - Boxer!harry

Harry is a grumpy mechanic and y/n just can't stop talking (4 parts)

@jarofstyles

King of the Jungle (multi part series): Y/N’s family works for a wildlife preservation society and Harry is king of the jungle or tarzan!harry

Lone Wolf (multi part series): Harry is a grumpy alpha who has given up on finding his mate or werewolf!harry

Beauty & the Beast (multi part series): Harry is a moody, withdrawn but successful creature who needs a companion who can tend to his… needs.

@lemoncrushh

Series: The Entertainer: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones meets Harry Styles, an up and coming musician and soon-to-be rockstar. The Entertainer Part II

One Shot: Dressing For Revenge: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him. Part II

@lukesaprince

Series: Intruder: You were an outside hire for a promotion Harry wanted, and he despises you for it. The hatred is mutual since Harry is a bit of an asshole, until the day of an important presentation where the tension is finally dealt with - A very steamy enemies to lovers romance (domrry)

Series: The Roommate Series: After Y/N’s best friend and roommate Alex decides to move out, she’s desperate for someone to take her place. Alex seems to have found the solution in a British fresh-to-New-York musician who ticks all the boxes. He just happens to be insanely attractive and charismatic… what could go wrong? (friends to lovers)

Series: Fratboy!harry You Can Pretend All You Want: You hate fratboys and everything they stand for, so you decide to prove one wrong by sleeping with him… safe to say it backfires (fratboy!harry, enemies to lovers).

Series: Rich: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.

@moonchildstyles

Series: Aster: Harry is a tattoo artist and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her. tattoo artist!harry / lhh!harry

Series: Citrine: Harry's a witch and it's been along time since since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he was getting y/n out of his head. witch!harry

Series: Chiaroscuro: y/n needed a job but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger. vampire!harry

Series: Prosecco: Harry is just on the edge of 30 and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated. older!harry

@0oolookitsme

One Shot: Dazzled: In which Harry has an uneasy feeling about Y/n’s new mission but the devil ignores his guts’ screams. But the vampire as well as his fiancé, Y/n, isn’t dumb and is quick to listen and take some weight off of his shoulders. They both soon find out, why, he was feeling uneasy. 

One Shot: Anything For You... And I: SMUTTY!!!! Dwd!Harry x Dwd-Character!Y/n

@0nlythrowharrybeaux

Friends Share (2 parts):Harry & Y/N have been practically perfect roommates for several years but the appearance of a hot new neighbor creates an unexpected shift in their relationship.

Unavailable (2 parts): Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.

@pleasingforharry

Moans & Elevator Music (2 parts): Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.

@purplekiwis

Breaking the Ice (2 parts): Hockey!Harry x Skater!Y/N It’s no secret that as a figure skater, you’re fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty… and your ex’s status as a player isn’t helping much either.

In the Witching Hours (will be 3 parts): Wizard!Harry x Witch!Y/N; Soulmates AU An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events but luckily, there’s a cute, shy wizard around…

One shot: Tentmate: Friends With Benefits Y/N has always hated camping… until her and Harry got stuck together in the same tent. (This one is smutty AF)

@s-brant

Series: The Getaway Car: In a drug deal gone wrong, Y/N, daughter to a famous racecar driver, finds herself behind the wheel of a car with a gun to her head. A masked man named Harry demands she helps him evade the authorities, so she does the only thing she knows how to. She drives.

One Shot: Midas Touch: The night before they leave to spend Christmas with his family, a conversation with their friends makes Harry and Y/N confront the future of their marriage.

@stylesloveclub

Series: Pleasing: In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry is a Michelin star chef who thinks she’s cuter than a puppy. 

@swiftmendeshoran

Series: Curvy Secret/No More Secrets Daddy: Dad's best friend (dbf!) Harry x plus size reader

@watchmegetobsessed

Series: The Sun Will Rise: You’re glad to be back at college and away from your family. Everything is back to its normal, but you have a little issue: you told your family you’d bring a date to your sister’s wedding, but you have no actual partner. An unexpected deal is made with the person you couldn’t even consider to be your friend: Harry can take the spare room in your apartment for the semester if he’ll be your date for the wedding. But can you actually live together with a guy who obviously dislikes you and you have no idea why? Can you fool your parents into thinking you’re dating Harry? And what will they think about him? Nothing is ever good enough to them, nothing that’s not as perfect as your sister, Alice.

Series: Wildest Fantasies: You’ve been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles’ Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.

Good Girl (Part 2): sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader

@writerpetals (writes optional male lead smut but you can easily imagine any male *coughharrycough* as the males are described as tall, well-built, with a nice head of hair - read anything this author writes - it's good, you will find almost any trope - ENJOY)

One Shot: Lakeside: werewolf!au, werewolf x reader

@zayndrivesmeinvain

Series (wip): The One That Got Away: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone? dadrry x oc | single dad!harry

i hit my link limits so was unable to insert link to part one of their series. check out their masterlist and you'll find it!

Wattpad

1-800-TITS = @1800titz (added May 21)

Series: The Devil is a Gentleman: "My name is Eros," the masked male cocks his head a smidge at her, and, if only slightly through the shadow casts between the parted zipper, Isla catches sight of a smile tugging at his lips on the latter fragment of his statement, "But you already know that. I'd hope, anyways. We've had a chat. Or two." His lips - his mouth. Isla ogles the latex through the peepholes of her own and wonders what shape the rest of his features take, what carves and forges his face, how his nose slopes, the assemblage of it all. "I think I recall, vaguely," she teases. "Mm. Vaguely. I'll take note of that. Well, although we are acquainted," Eros smooths his fingertips over the arm of the chair, a lavish facade of plastic masquerading. The latter fragment of his statement prompts the steady bump of her heart to spur behind her ribcage. "You will address me as Master." Isla swallows. Despite her prior train of thought looping so intently on the tracks to decipher what she believes he'd look like beneath his mask, it's entirely derailed by the serious note in his previously light cadence. She wonders how a mere introduction manages to send such a thrilling rush rolling down her spine. Eros leans forward, forearms braced to his splayed thighs, almost as if to bend to her level. "Or Sir. Master, Sir, it's all the same to me. Your preference." OR the one in which there's a sex club, Greek stage names, the exploration of boundaries, an open house, a pair of dress shoes, and two sides of the same coin.

_miiki

Series: Artwork & Aquarelle: "Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away.

Aggressivelyfriendly = @aggresivelyfriendly

Series: Who Names the Colors: In the last year, Joanne Smith Giles, has once again become Jo Smith. In another heartbreaking turn of events, she's also the single mother of an infant, again. She knows she can do this on her own, and better at 40 than 19, but it seems weird to be launching a son into manhood, a new career as an art professor, and changing nappies all in one day. She is so thankful when Ethan, her boy, comes home from Uni. Jo could use the help. His best friend, Harry, comes round too. And his launch into manhood may be another heartbreaking turn, for all of them

ErinAlterEgo = @yourwattpadmom

Series: Late night Talking: Alex is craving something at night, and it's not ice cream. Encouraged by her husband to explore a polyamory relationship to meet some of her more....eclectic tastes, she finds herself on a dating app for the first time in her life. She expected maybe some interesting experiences, possibly her first one-night stand ever. She didn't expect to meet a man who made her question everything about herself. Harry is on a new path in his life that is exciting and different than he ever could have imagined. He's looking for excitement, experiences, but definitely not love and attachment. When he meets Alex, he sees a whole new path that he's unsure he wants to go down, but finds it hard to resist.

Hitterj (love all of her stuff!)

Series: All This Time: The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?

Series: Kiwi: If you don't know about this one by now... go read it - super duper smutty and sweet and angsty

Series: Sweet Little Lies: All her life, Ivy Malone has known what her family was. She grew up in the deep, unforgiving world of the mob. Ivy hates her position in life, knowing that her life was never fully hers. Harry Styles was cold. He trusted almost no one, especially his family. He had learned quickly that everyone was waiting for him to fail... to fall. An empire built by his father from the blood and bones of those who stepped in his way was all he had, no matter how much he hated it. He had no choice but to carry on the legacy. And marrying Malone's daughter was the next step in fortifying their defense. With new rivals making a move for power and a mysterious figure haunting the crime families of Queenstown, Ivy and Harry have to learn to live together. A bad start leads them down a tumultuous, passionate, and downright dangerous path, but maybe they were exactly what the other needed to live the life they always craved.

MysteryMixtapes (Just go read all their stuff)

Series: Stall & Stall 2: Violence/gangs/dark

Series: Perspective: Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying?

Series: Unforgettable: "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?"

Peanutboyfriend (read all of Birdie's stuff - you won't regret it)

Series: Aerial: In Malibu, California in 1965, a surfer and world-famous aerialist undergoes a chain of comedic and not-so-comedic mishaps that force him to re-evaluate who he is.

Petit_cerise

Series: Devil's Due & Devil's Desire: Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back.

Sunflowersnstuff

Series: One Word & Wonderland: We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.

ThousandYearsOfHope

Series: Lonely Nights: Willow Mackey is a quiet girl, but she is fiercely loyal and will never lie to you. Harry Styles is her brother's best friend, and someone she'll always have a soft spot for. Grown up and no longer shielded by their ages, lines start to blur, and mistakes keep being made. For the first time in her life, Willow realises that sometimes, the truth is too painful to hear. But how could she ever say no to the one person that's always understood her better than she understands herself?

Series: Pretty Boy: One night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.

Writhali (I really like everything I've read by Thali)

Series: Ambit: Gangs/violence/action/SMUT - "Hell's boring, Birdie." He claims, that cold, dead stare back to his eyes. "And this, this is what I call a Monday night."

#gurugirl fic recs #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry x reader #harry styles fic #my faves

[foldingfittedsheets]

So one thing I’ve noticed is that people’s DnD characters may vary but there is usually an underlying thread that they all have in common. This thread is typically related to what that person struggles with the most.

For instance, my betrotheds DnD characters: a bitchy warlock we had to bust out of two different pacts, a sassy barbarian, a reformed drow cultist, and a sunshine fighter cleric.

All these characters were wildly different but at their very core struggle was them grappling with their self worth. My betrothed struggles with their worth a great deal and even with different facets showing their characters all have that too.

Mine all tend to contend with different themes of loneliness and acceptance. Surprise, surprise, the little autistic gremlin yearns to have been met with more love and lasting friendships.

So we’re at breakfast. I am meeting a new friend of my betrotheds for the first time. It’s been twenty minutes since I’ve met this man. I say my theory. He laughs. He starts to describe a few of his characters but specifies that he often has healing aspects. He gives a very broad overview of their character arcs.

I ponder for a moment then said, “Would you like to have my assessment?”

He laughed, “Sure!”

“We’ve just met. It’s gonna get real.”

“Bring it on.”

“I think your struggle is that you feel you must offer something of value or service to people to be worthy of their love.”

His jaw dropped. His fork froze midway to his mouth. A potato fell. He stared into space as this sank in. Quietly he said, “Oh.”

#dnd #ramblies #dungeons and dragons #ffs foibles #he kept repeating it through the rest of the hang out and I got less coherent as I tuckered out but the gist was there #he also mentioned in his dating history how he’d always felt girls he’d dated were moving too fast #and without thinking I laughed and said yeah cause you’re gay and you desperately didn’t want those relationships to go anywhere #you just wanted to be loved but not romantically #and he looked shooketh #and I apologized cause I usually try to limit my deep psychoanalysis of people to one per hangout but he wasn’t upset

[canyourfavesurvivecastledracula]

Could Dipper and Mabel pines survive Castle Dracula? (either together or individually)

You're really gonna make me kill those wonderful kids with my own hands. You monster.

Together or individually is really the whole point isn't it? Because obviously together yes individually no.

Dipper is too clever for his own good. Dipper comes prepared. Dipper is going to investigate this mystery. Dipper will attempt to photograph Dracula and his camera will go the way of a certain shaving mirror. Dipper will investigate every place he's told not to go. Dipper with his journey of self-discovery re: pubescent masculinity is incredibly susceptible to what the Girlies have going on. He's also very susceptible to being convinced he's losing his mind. Dipper is on top of things enough to be a threat and twelve years old enough to be an irritent. He's probably got a holy water squirt gun in his back pack. He probably thinks vampires don't come out during the day.

He's probably delicious.

Mabel is a ray of sunshine ... but these particular vampires can withstand the sunshine just fine. She would try to befriend them. She would definitely keep them guessing. Mabel would also get into every place she's not supposed to go through sheer indomitability. Dracula's brand of mind games would work much less well on her, but if he figured out to change his tactics to play off of her actual insecurities she's be a puddle. She would enthusiastically accept all gifts and make an effort to keep her flowers alive, which will offer her some protection longer. She will be vocally disappointed that Dracula doesn't sparkle. Mabel is sweetness and light and innocence and joy and enough bloody-mindedness to live up to her family name three times over - and sadly those qualities are exactly what vampires enjoy destroying. When they eat her she'll infect them with a desire to redecorate with rainbows - but they will eat her, eventually.

And see, together they balance each other and have enough combined ingenuity, genre savvy, gumption and mutual devotion to get out of there. It's the Power of Friendship and Documents, which is the winning combination.

But each on their own? Mabel and Dipper Pines can not survive Castle Dracula

That said if this were an episode of Gravity Falls they'd be rescued by Stan "Opener of Doors" Pines, who would waste no time in going all Van Helsing on the Castle Hinges. ...who am I kidding he'd punch through the door itself if he weren't hitting it with his car. Those iron bars are no match for the Stanleymobile. Even solid oak is no match for Pines...

#gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #stan pines #cartoons #children #detectives #ingenues

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 14)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 2400

A/N: I haven't had time to proofread this one but I wanted to get it out in celebration of it being Remus's birthday today. Happy Birthday Moony.

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 14, Next Chapter

The trees outside were becoming greener, and the air a bit warmer. Remus and you would even sometimes take walks outside together to enjoy the sunshine, obviously distanced and acting appropriately. Acting appropriately was beginning to drain you as the honeymoon stages of being with Remus began to wear off.

January was filled with the thrill of being together and sneaking around, you got comfortable in February and now it was March. You were entering your third month of being exclusive, but not being anything, spending evenings together but barely ever sleeping in the same bed. No matter how much you enjoyed it you couldn't hide it was all becoming slightly draining. You longed for a date, to go the theatre like Remus once promised, to go for a walk and hold hands. To kiss in a public space.

"Any plans for the weekend?" You asked Remus as you strolled through the grass in the morning on Friday, you asked in the hope of finally going on a date again.

"I have a meeting with some members of the order, apparently there's rumours of activity between death eaters" He kept his hands firmly in his pockets. "What's your plans?" He looked at you with a gentle look of admiration as he spoke.

"I was thinking you could take me around London?" You asked slightly nervously.

"I'm sorry, not this weekend. There's too many people from the order around right now. Besides we shouldn't speak about this in public." His body was closed off as he looked around and spoke in a hush tone, it used to thrill you the secrecy, but it was beginning to hurt.

"When can we? You promised me the theatre." You said and he smiled gently.

"As soon as possible."

"When's that?" You pushed and Remus shook his head. "When it's less risky."

"Fine can I at least come officially meet Sirius?" You asked.

"I would like nothing more,"

"But?" You interrupted

"But, the order operates out of his house, and there's been more meetings recently, it's not safe for us to be hanging out there." He explained.

"What about your cottage? Or is that too risky too?" You tried your luck.

"That's actually a good idea, but," You rolled your eyes at Remus again. "I need time to make it habitable, it's a mess there. I'll go this weekend and depending on the progress soon we can go together." He explained and you nodded satisfied with getting at least somewhere. He looked around before continuing. "Tomorrow, after my meeting I'd love to see you. If that's okay? Although I don't know what time I will be back it would mean a lot to me if you were free." He almost whispered.

"Of course, if you won't take me out on a date at least we can have one here." You said and he offered a weak smile.

"Now tell me, how's your preparation for exams going?" He changed the subject now speaking in a louder tone and it felt more like spending time with Lupin than Remus. You enjoyed all sides of Remus J Lupin. You enjoyed learning his habits and quirks, you would sit in your DADA lesson and watch him intensely as he would tap his fingers on his wand when he was nervous. You could quite define what was going on between you both, on one hand he was very reserved, he wanted for you to come over to spend time together and then for you to leave, like you were a way for him to have company. On the other hand he was passionate, he talked about his dreams of showing you the world, about how he saw the future it made you feel like maybe you were special to him. You spent the day alone waiting for Remus to come back, every few hours you would walk past his office to find out if he was back yet no sign of him. It was getting late and you were begging to believe he won't come back today and you wasted your evening waiting for him.

Finally around nine pm as you walked back to your dorm from his office you saw him walking in your direction towards his office, you smiled at the sight of him. He was very dressed up in a nice shirt and blazer, he looked like he really cared about his appearance today as he went to the meeting. You didn't really understand why he got so dressed up to see the order or why his "meeting" lasted all Saturday. He greeted you in the corridor with a nod and you turned around walking side by side to his office. "Hello Professor." You said with a playful tone.

"Hi Y/N, I know it's Saturday but do you mind coming to have a quick discussion with me in the office?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

"My pleasure." You said as he held the door open for you and you stepped inside.

"Hello my dear." He said as soon as the door closed and he leaned in to kiss you. "Sorry for running so late, everyone couldn't stop talking I left as soon as I could." He explained as you walked up the stairs to his office.

"You look really nice." You pointed out.

"I've got to impress you, how else would I keep you interested in boring old me." He said, at this moment you clicked the thing you could smell was fire whiskey, he had been drinking.

"Do you often drink at important meetings?" You asked, a sting of jealousy on your tongue.

"Only when they run late," He explained as he poured two drinks and you sat down.

"I waited for you like an idiot all evening." You explained feeling upset by how you ruined your day waiting while he was drinking and dressing up for a meeting.

"I'm sorry, dear, I tried to leave as soon as the meeting finished but everyone wanted to talk, they wanted to talk to me, which rarely happens, you know how I talk and people lose interest well this one time when I wanted them to not listed they did listen. But I wanted to come back to you this whole evening. Anyway we're here now and I can bore you instead of them." He gave you a soft kiss on your cheek as he sat down next to you.

"So tell me about your cottage." You said making yourself comfortable on the couch, with your legs crossed and your drink in hand.

"What do you want to know?" He re-adjusted himself to face you as he sat on the opposite end of the sofa and music played in the background, he had his favourite vinyl on which filled the room with positivity even if your conversations didn't start on a good note.

"I don't know, we always just talk about music and me, I feel like I barely know you."

"I'm an open book."

"That's a lie."

"What do you want to know?" He said gently ignoring your remark.

"Did you grow up there?" You snapped.

"In the cottage? No, god, no." He snapped back instantly looking down at his glass with the last three words.

"So where did you grow up?"

"Everywhere, we moved around a lot because of my condition. Listen Y/N I would rather not talk about this today. Ask me any other day and I'll tell you, today I want to listen to some records, hold you in my arms and sip some expensive whiskey." He said putting an arm around you and pulling you closer.

"So you'll speak to others all night but all you want is to sit next to me and listen to music?"

"I also want to kiss you." He said planting a light kiss on your lips making you blush.

"Remus, I feel like you don't want to let me into your life."

"You are in my life, dear. I spend more time with you than anyone else. The last time I was around someone so much it was Sirius and I was your age."

"Yet you won't even let me meet Sirius." You left his embrace sitting on the opposite side of the sofa.

"Y/N, we spoke about this..." he said sitting up himself.

"What are we?"

"I don't know." He said slightly defeated.

"Are we dating?"

"No." He replied calmly but instantly without time to even process the question .

"But we're exclusive?" You asked after a moment of thinking

"Yes." Once again instantly.

"Why?"

"Because I can't bear the thought of anyone else kissing you."

"Why won't you date me?"

"Because I'm your teacher." He didn't break eye contact.

"Bullshit. You've crossed that line too many times for it to matter, why?"

"Because it's me. Y/N, I wouldn't want to curse anyone with me, especially not you. You don't understand what I am..."

"I do Remus, and I don't care so drop this self destructive attitude and let yourself feel happy."

"I want you to feel happy!" He almost shouted but controlled himself. "I am sacrificing my job for you to be happy-"

"Yes because you don't get any enjoyment out of it, you're just having sex with me and inviting me over for my enjoyment." You snarked back and he rested his head in his hand as he massaged his temple trying to find the right words to say.

"Y/N, you know what I mean. I care about you, I am smitten by you. But it would be selfish of me to decide to date you to call you mine. You're a young witch, you have so much potential. I have to change jobs before people realise my condition, I am always moving, I'm not safe, and I'm not safe to be around. I want to keep you safe and happy, I don't want to ruin your future by people finding out you're dating not only your teacher but a werwolf."

"Selfish is you not giving me a chance. Do you know what would make me happy? If you held my hand. The day you took me to the British Museum was one of the best days I've ever had, I was so happy, you can offer me happiness but you decide not to. You would know all this if you weren't too busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice." You now raised your voice a little bit too much.

"This isn't how I wanted this evening to go." He simply said looking down at his feet almost defeated.

"I'm sorry but you can't keep running from this conversation Lupin it's March, am I just your plaything or do you hate yourself so much that you truly won't allow yourself to feel okay for a moment?"

"Dear, can we just come back to this tomorrow when you're more calm and I'm more sober?" He asked with a soft tone that contrasted your own.

"Maybe I should go." You said standing up and gathering your belongings.

"Dear-" he began as he stood up and followed you towards the door.

"No Remus, I'm not going to allow you to hurt me with your mistaken nobility, the worst part is you truly think you're doting the right thing." You said emotions getting the best of you.

"Y/N. Please stay." He placed his hand on the door to stop you from opening it.

"Why? Why are you so desperate for me to stay when you won't talk to me about anything real."

"Because it's my birthday..." he said and it hit you like a wall of bricks.

"Remus I'm so sorry-" you began but he seemed dismissive.

"Actually I believe it may be best if you do leave," Remus said letting go of the wall and walking to sit back down, downing the rest of his drink and closing his eyes as he sat there not looking your way.

"Yes I should go, we should go. Let's go to London."

"What?" He shot a confused look at you.

"Let's go, what are we doing wasting away here? Do you really want to spend your birthday sitting here like every other evening? Or do you want to celebrate?"

"I don't celebrate my birthday, I just don't want to be alone this year."

"Why isn't Sirius here?"

"Because I already saw him, they bought out a cake and sang me happy birthday at the meeting. I didn't like the attention but it was nice if Sirius to organise it, but I told them I just want to sit at home today."

"No let's celebrate!" You insisted sitting down next to him and putting hands on his knee.

"I told you I don't want to I just want to sit here and have a nice, normal, evening with you." He said sternly, his body stiff.

"Remus, why didn't you tell me it's your birthday?"

"Because I didn't want you to react like this, it's not important, I didn't want a cake, I didn't want people singing happy birthday, I just wanted to sit with you here and feel normal and happy." He explained it felt like he was lecturing you.

"I don't understand..."

"No you wouldn't would you?" He stood up moving your hand off his knee and walking away to go top up his glass before he continued speaking. "I didn't want to be reminded another year has passed, another year where there no cure, another year where each month is a curse, another year my mother is dead, my friends are dead. Another year closer to loosing my father, to loosing Sirius and another job. What is so fun about celebrating this?"

"Because it's about celebrating the person you are." You emphasised walking over to him, you stood in front of him looking up at him hoping he would kiss you as you moved up your him standing on your toes.

"There's nothing to celebrate about me." He said walking past you to sit on his office chair. You followed right behind him.

"Yes there is Remus. You're amazing, do you really think I'd be waiting for you all evening if you weren't worth celebrating." You moved in closer invading his personal space and straddling him on his desk chair. His body shifted below you as he cleared your throat, you could feel his penis twitch as he was begging to get hard. "I'm sorry Y/N, I think you should leave." He said almost whispering. You looked into his eyes for a moment before storming out. "Self destructive asshole" you murmured as you slammed his office door behind you.

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

A/N: sorry for the angst I had to do it.

Tags (if you aren't here but want to be leave a reply and I'll add you or DM me to get removed):

@thesoundresoundsecho @ahoyyharrington @merleisapartygod @sting-0f-ennui @starchaser-lily @ashisabitgay @livingordeadwhoknows @v0relino @evie-beanie @whotfskai @admiringyou @lily-mylove @kirubi @ghostbandghostcodghostface @rockymiles @99tech99 @almizz1

@standepechemode @lovingdilfss @artvoyager @sofacover @bubblegum9468 @spidermansolosurfav @harleyanderson2004 @kissmeunicornbaobei @marine-mayday @beelzebzb @universallyblizzardlove @liv2post @amoraneuro @xluansstuff @sizzlingthingnerd @bethsvrse @mrsgweasley @that1nerd-20 @juuleesa @idek-what-to-put @itsmynothing

#remus lupin x reader #student x teacher #teacher! Remus Lupin #professor lupin x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #remus lupin #the maruaders #harry potter #remus love you #secret smokes #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #the marauders #sirius orion black #remus lupin smut #remus x reader #remus john lupin #happy birthday remus lupin #happy birthday moony #march 10th

[tomorrcwz]

smooches ; ob8

pairing: ollie bearman x driver!reader

.,-,*´`'*°☆ one shot : in which ollie invites you over to cheer you up, resulting in a confession that takes your friendship to another level

➻ warnings: none — friends to lovers thrope, kissing

falling back into the soft mattress, a loud dramatic groan escaped your lips. you had woken up annoying this day and the feeling didn't leave your body since then; quali didnt turn out like you had hoped for, only securing seventeenth position, earning zero points for your team.

alas it wasn't the best idea to take ollie's offer for a chill night as you couldn't stop yourself from ranting about the shitshow that was today's race.

the prema driver, who gracefully took it on himself to go to the nearest grocery store to buy some premade pizza and some diet coke, smiled at you as he walked into his bedroom. you laid exactly how he had left you and your face was still crunched up in a frown he wished to wipe off. "well, aren't you a sunshine?", he grinned amused, throwing you a bottle of the drink before making himself comfortable next to you, resting his back against the headboard and handing you a bag with baked goods he knew you enjoyed eating.

another groan left you and you flipped your middle finger at him causing his grin to beam even more. "god, remind me why we're even friends again?", you questioned while stuffing your face with the turkish pide.

"cause you love my dashing personality and handsome face, spitfire", ollie replied, noticing the way he avoided eye contact, "what's rubbing you the wrong way? besides the race?"

swallowing the bite, you place the paper bag on your lap and then repositioned your body, so you could fully face him. nervously you clasped your hands. "have you ever just really wanted to kiss someone but you know it's wrong?", you eventually pressed out.

the boy's breath stunk in his throat, you might've imagine that, and you impatiently waited for his answer. his eyes had widened ever so slightly as he wanted to know what was stopping you.

registering his words, you titled your head in wonder, trying to process where the brit in front of you tried to take the conversation to. you slowly blinked your eyes, straightening your back. "what?"

repeating himself, ollie awaited your reaction in anticipation; you starred at him, barely getting the message behind his words resulting in ollie leaning into you, gently grabbing your chin, pulling you in a soft kiss.

realisation hit him right in the face when you broke the kiss, gasping for air; shook radiated in waves off his body but rather than getting to chance to press an excuse out, you pulled him in yet another kiss, this one being more intense than the first.

rina's masterlist

#☁. ob8 #f2 x reader #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman imagine #f2 imagine

[colourstreakgryffin]

Had a funky idea.. what about a Charlie x Pinkie Pie like! Reader? :)

Haha! Awwww! This is my first time ever trying out Charlie! For real, Charlie would absolutely love Pinkie Pie and we know it! I wanted to do romantic but for some reason, I can’t really get anything out unlike what I wanted so sorry, this is solely platonic!

Charlie Morningstar- Balloon Soul

Charlie is a sweetheart. She loves the concepts of positivity, sunshine, rainbows and cupcakes. Anything good has her one hundred percent attention. So when she meets you, the embodiment of joy and friendship growing, she automatically befriends you and learns about you

She doesn’t understand how you’re a Sinner. You’re beaming with hyperactivity and happiness. Yet, here you are. Instead of being a client, she hires you to work at her Hotel since you’re simply perfect at spreading redemption with your good-hearted but energetic character

Charlie will happily attend any party you throw; outside of the Hotel or inside the Hotel. She also relies on you to be the party planner and be the general activity planner since you’re really creative and capable at organising big events. Even better than her girlfriend, Vaggie. You become a valuable member of the Staff in no time!

Charlie also enjoys telling you her favourite sweet flavours because you’ll come in with cupcakes or a big cake, all for her! The fact you remember absolutely everything about her makes her heart flutter. She adores you, you’re basically another version of her… just a bit more talkative, jokey and loud but the personality you two share is why she likes you so much, you bond so well with people

Charlie is so close to you, you’re basically her right hand lady, that her girlfriend, Vaggie, gets jealous of you and she has to clear it up with Vaggie to ensure nothing goes back inbetween her best friend and her love

Charlie really appreciates how much of a sweetheart you are as well. You’re a very good friend, warm-hearted and sympathetic whilst working hard to make people smile so when she feels down, you’d make sure she is laughing and smiling again in no time. She loves this

Charlie is the first one there and the last one out of anything you arrange; farewell party, we succeeded party, birthday party, couple anniversary party, we redeemed sinners party! Anything, she’s dolling herself up to get your approval and she adores how cute your party-accessorised ball gown is

Charlie actually turns to you for emotional support. Believe it or not. You may be hyper and childish but you’re actually really emotionally well-adjusted and with your backstory of being a dull, miserable child that found happiness through colour. She looks to you for advice when she needs it inside a sad dark place

Charlie also leans on you heavily, you’re her right hand and she knows you won’t mock her in any fashion. Suspect her to rant to you about her problems with her relationship with Vaggie(rest easy Alastor) and there is very little times that she doesn’t take what you offer her

Charlie likes your hair… it makes no sense but she loves brushing and tying it up for you. It’s a big bubbly mess but it’s a beautiful bubbly mess. You two can trade doing hairstyles together early in the morning and it’s precious. Charlie feels more pretty when her best friend and her girlfriend say she is

Charlie is quite good at handling how talkative and upbeat you are. You talk as much as she does and therefore, she is really the only person in the Hotel that can tolerate how much of a high-spirit chatterbox you are. She enjoys it since you act like she is your younger sister, she is fine with you always chatting

Charlie likes how cute your Hellborn alligator friend is, Gummy. It’s a adorable fang-less baby alligator that is clamped on your hair and she’ll happily help you care for him when you can’t and she is getting use to the feeling of a small Hellborn alligator clung onto her ponytail by his tough gummy jaws… it’s not as uncomfortable as she thought

“Leitora! Leitora! Here! Here! Look at this balloon animal I made! It’s just like the one you made for me! Do you think Vaggie would like it? Do you like it? I like it! Are you proud of it?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #vivziepop hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel characters #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel imagine #vivziepop #charlie morningstar #charlie x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #hazbin charlie x reader #hazbin hotel charlie x reader #pinkie pie reader! #princess of hell #charlotte morningstar #charlotte morningstar x reader #platonic charlie #platonic charlie morningstar #platonic charlie x reader #headcanons #platonic love headcanons #friendship headcanons #best friend stuff #best friends #charlie magne #charlie magne x reader

[sc0tters]

Different Paths | Jack Hughes

summary: 5 times Jack and your paths ran parallel to each other and the one time they finally became perpendicular.

song: Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince

request: yes/no

warnings: none.

word count: 1.61k

authors note: this is officially the end of the 150 celly! I struggled to write this one but I’m very happy with where it ended up. Thanks for all of the love and support that it’s been given and we’ve only just gotten started.

His brother’s best friend was all Jack was never meant to see you as.

Luke had always been your best friend, you were like tweedle-dee and tweedle-dumb whenever you were around each other. The friendship started when you were four and it was around a similar time that your feelings for Jack begun.

Of course though at that age they were simply because a pretty boy looked at you.

1.

Luke and you were in the kitchen as you ate the berries that Ellen had cut up for you two. Jack walked in with some of his friends from hockey as it caused you to grow nervous “hey Luke,” the middle Hughes boy had a grin on his face as he realised that he could screw with his brother. You turned pink as Jack locked eyes with you, it shouldn’t have been something you were okay with but the older Hughes boy always caused your heart rate to increase.

You smiled “h-hi Jack,” the boy sent you a wink as he stuck his hand into Luke’s container “mom!” Luke groaned as he watched his brother take half of his fruit.

Jack laughed as he shoved the sweet fruit into his mouth “get your own fruit!” The youngest Hughes boy added as he wasn’t impressed.

A soft voice left your lips “you can have some of mine Jack.” You offered as you held out your container with a smile.

The middle Hughes boy couldn’t help it when his heart felt warm, you were always just so sweet “no thanks sweets.” He shook his head as he ruffled his hand in your hair,

For now Luke was going to have to sit there and watch the way his best friend looked at his brother.

2.

Quinn was like the big brother you never had, he always knew what to say and when to say it to you.

That’s what brought you on the couch as you told him about all of your life worries.

You should have felt stupid as jealously coarsed through your veins at the thought of Jack with that girl from down the road. It was stupid, yes you knew it was but as you could hear her laughs from the other room you almost wanted to scream “I know it’s crazy,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms slouching back into the couch cushions.

It was tough trying to remain calm “it’s not crazy at all,” Quinn shook his head as he placed a kiss on your temple.

Jack had seen the whole thing go down as he was meant to get himself and his new friend a drink. As much as he appreciated how comfortable you felt with Quinn he just wished that you’d be like that with him.

The way you were an open book with his older brother made him long for a day when he could be like that with you, even with something a little more.

3.

You must have fifteen at the time, everyone was back in the lake house just how they were every summer “you coming or what?” Quinn called out as you had been soaking in the sunshine as you lay in your swimsuit “where to?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you got up and held your hand up to your forehead to block the sunlight.

Trevor let out a low whistle as he saw yours bounce in the bikini top that you were in “stop looking at her like that,” Jack sent the older boy a glare as he joined in the watch party.

Puberty had truly hit you like a truck over the last year. Your breasts had gone up two cup sizes, your waist was now more pronounced as your ass was rounded.

Jack knew it was wrong of him to see you in the light that he was, but he simply couldn’t help it “don’t be jealous cause you didn’t say it first.” Trevor warned as he shrugged smirking as you walked onto the boat “got a space next to me for ya sweets,” he offered as he patted the cushion next to him.

Luke gagged as he heard the shameless flirting come from his lips “I’ll sit with Luke.” You shook your head “thanks though Trev,” Jack felt like the Cheshire Cat when you sat in between the two boys.

The middle Hughes smiled as you looked at him “hi,” your own smile was now clear as you had also just lost your braces just weeks before the lake house.

His hand danced over your knee “hey sweets.” Jack had given you the nickname because you always had a sweet tooth, Trevor was the first one who chose to steal it.

4.

Just like always you were dragged along to watch Jack play hockey, it was your families Friday night tradition as you were always in the crowd to watch him play.

Luke had his arm around your shoulder as the two of you made your way into the players area “I’m gonna go say hi to them,” Luke explained as he gave you a soft squeeze before he walked over to his coaches.

You weren’t left for long though as Jack found you “hey sweets,” he smiled as he held his arms out.

He was still sweaty as he was in his gear and still in his skates “like seeing you this tall,” you joked as you let out a laugh.

The boy scoffed “I’m always tall,” he mumbled as he furrowed his eyebrows.

Everyone watched on with a sense of curiosity as you reached up to brush some of the hair out of his face “keep telling yourself that,” an amused smirk spread across your face.

Ellen knew all about your crush on her son, it was hard not to. The way your eyes lit up when you saw him, or how your cheeks would grow hot whenever he’d touch you. She also knew that her son felt similar to you because of the lingering glances that were always sent to and from each of you. It was amusing how clueless Luke was as he never seemed to notice how this was the worst kept secret that you two had.

5.

The big day for you and Luke had finally come. You two were officially graduates from high school. Since you arrived at school that morning you hadn’t seen Luke because you were both so apart from each other in terms of your last name.

So naturally when the ceremony ended you both ran back to your families who had been sat together “woah there sweets,” Jack smiled as you bumped into his back.

Your cheeks turned pink “sorry Jack,” you were quick to apologise as you brushed your hair out of your face,

The boy hooked his fingers under your jaw “I’m proud of you,” he confessed as he softly pinched your chin “high honours and all,” he added as his fingers brushed over the scarfs that you had gotten.

A toothy grin formed on your face “‘m more than just a pretty face,” you joked as a soft laugh fell from your lips.

His reaction mimicked yours “you have been,” Jack mumbled as you practically melted into his touch.

“Y/n!” Luke called out totally unaware of the sight in front of him as you whipped your head around.

It was like clockwork, you ran into Luke’s arms as you tackled him in a hug.

That was a constant reminder that Luke was always going to be first in your life.

+1

You always enjoyed laying on the boat as it was still docked. It gave you place to simply just think, and the boat rocking in the water was always soothing “thought I’d find you here.” Jack smiled as he jumped onto the boat.

The quietness that you loved was now gone, not that you were complaining though as you patted the cushion next to you “didn’t know you were looking for me,” you mumbled as you had almost fallen asleep so you let out a yawn.

It brought a chuckle from his lips “don’t tell me I’m boring you already?” He joked as he watched you shake your head.

Jack grew comfortable in his seat next to you “you’d never bore me,” you confessed as you shook your head.

His hand moved to your knee as he grew nervous. It was a feeling that Jack wasn’t used to usually, it was something he only grew to know about when it came to you.

It would have made you melt if you knew the way he thought about you. Your heart was full in that very moment, despite the fact that Luke was so far away. In fact maybe that’s what made you feel at ease, it made you not feel as guilty about your feelings for the boy in front of you.

The air around you two was dense as the tension could have been cut “what are you thinking about?” You asked as you turned to face him, your lips dangerously close to his.

He smiled “thinking about kissing you,” Jack confessed as he let his filter get thrown out of the window.

You giggled as a grin came across your face “thinking you should do it then,” you could barely get that statement out of your mouth before Jacks lips were on your own. Your sweet cherry lipgloss invaded his taste buds as he let his hand move to the back of your neck not wanting to lose you just yet as he let out a groan pulling you onto his lap.

“Always knew my sweets would taste so good.”

#jack hughes one shot #jack hughes x you #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #imagines #oneshots #nhl imagine #ambers 150 celly #amber writes fics

[avocado-writing]

notes: full version of this. contains mild brat taming, spanking, holy imagery. reader is genderless. special love to @dhampling who read over the start for me, and M for being my beta 💕

pairing: astarion x LG!Paladin!Reader

rating: E

words: 3k

Astarion looks at you, and he wonders. 

He wonders, back when he was a spawn stalking through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, if his sheer proximity to you might have burnt the alabaster skin from his bleached, undead bones. That is the force of your radiance. 

Every part of you is a perfect fragment of your god. Sunshine-brilliant and drenched equally in his glory and wrath, there could be no doubt that you are a child of Pelor. You carry his emblem on your armour and his love in your heart. Your skin has a dreamy pearlescent lustre, soft and hearty, and you seem to glow from the innate light within you.

It makes Astarion sick.

You are so nauseatingly good. When he met you on the road near the crash site it was your first instinct to help. Not to second guess his nature, not to wheedle any masked truth from him, but to draw your sword and offer protection to a stranger.

He got the jump on you, of course - but he recalls how easily you laid him out on his back in return. When he was staring up at you, forcibly unarmed, and the sun framed your face like your god had in that moment blessed you with a halo just to spite him.

And still you had reached out a hand to him in friendship.

You hadn’t withdrawn when the truth of his condition came to light. He figured someone of your vocation would try to run him through without a second thought. But instead of offering him the point of your blade, you offered him your neck. 

“If my blood will strengthen you then I will gladly share it,” had been your words. He wanted to prove you wrong for your kindness, to drain you dry just to spite you - and your taste had been ambrosia. Sweetly blossoming on his tongue he had almost lost himself in the taste of you, until once again your firm hands pushed him away.

No. He would not get to end you that night.

Every day the two of you bickered. You, the stalwart immovable paladin; him, the nefarious rogue always up to something. The two of you were total opposites. It seemed almost cruel that fate had forced you into being travelling companions. And yet…

And yet.

Whenever you finished swapping barbs (well, the threw barbs at you, and you remained unbothered in the face of them, deflecting his venom with the pavise of your cool-headedness) he would see you smile as you turned away. He’d be well aware there was one on his own face, too.

Stupid. Weak. 

How he managed to get you into bed after that party at the Grove, he’ll never know. It was a gamble and the dice were not in his favour. But he gave it a go anyway, drolly mentioning the quality of the wine and the overwhelmingly oppressive atmosphere. When he suggested meeting you later that night he braced himself to be staked.

But that hadn't happened.

You’d been surprised, definitely. Eyebrows raised and smile sudden, but you’d said yes. You’d even giggled at the idea, dizzy like a schoolchild. 

And, admittedly, he felt an erotic thrill as he sauntered to meet you in that clearing. One he thought himself incapable of experiencing any longer. He was never excited about sex any more. He’d tried to convince himself it was due to his stygian soul, that a creature like him lying with someone as pure as you would be a defilement, would be sullying your holiness - something to bring you down a peg or two. Make you not so out of everyone’s reach.

Out of his reach.

Perhaps, though, in the corner of his mind he tried to wall up, he just relished the idea of being close to you.

And close to you he was. Your grip on his cock was warm and sweet as he slid inside you. You bared your neck and he found the bite marks that were becoming a permanent fixture on your skin, the softest place on you - every other inch was hard muscle. A reminder of that shield you carried, the righteous sword you swung. He made love to you in the most passionate way he knew possible.

He hadn’t realised he’d wanted to hear the sound his name made from your lips as you came around him. It burned into his soul.

He expected you to fall asleep quickly, after, but no. You’d actually held him. As if he weren’t some creature of the abyss but…

Well, your equal.

You hand had caressed his back in a way he’d never known before, soft and sweet, reading his scars like braille but not asking for their origin. Instead you’d opened up yourself a little and let him hear some of the chapters of your life.

He wasn’t surprised when you told him you swore your oath as a teenager. You grew up in the church, devoted from youth, and he could picture you: pocked-faced and wide-smiled, knowing exactly how you wanted to live the rest of your life. 

So sure-footed. He was jealous. He was smitten.

“Do you ever regret it?” he’d asked, burying himself into the warmth of your body. You’d shaken your head and looked him dead in the eyes, so utterly sincere that it moved him.

“I rarely regret anything. Not my oath, not the nautiloid… not you,” you’d whispered before kissing him. 

And, true to your word, you never did. 

Nowadays? You make him feel safe. Protected. Watched over both in and out of battle - whenever anyone tries to take advantage of his vampirism, when they act like he is a thing rather than a person, you are the first one to his side to defend him. 

It forces him reevaluate how he feels about himself; question if he is, in fact, a being worthy of love. 

He hates it. 

He is looking at his reflection in the mirror of you. Yes. You do see something worthy in him, something worthwhile and deserving of your nurture. It makes him so damned scared. Because if that’s true, it means maybe there’s more to him than the vicious little cretin he portrays himself as. Maybe he is worthy of it all. Of kindness. Of love. 

Of you. 

His soul begins to itch. He needs to do something to realign his universe, put things back into the way they’re meant to be. He needs to be a rogue, damn it!

Your adventure has called you back out to the Emerald Grove. With Isobel safe after the attack at the Last Light Inn you were comfortable leaving the Shadowlands for a while under the knowledge that before you fought Kethetic things were unlikely to get better, but also unlikely to immediately get worse. Astarion erects his tent on soft grass, relieved to not be surrounded by magical darkness, and waits for you to be distracted. 

It does not take long. You are swept up in good-natured conversation with Wyll, discussing some sort of swordfighting technique he neither knows nor cares about. When he is certain that no eyes are on him he simply melts into the gloom of evening. 

Where he belongs. Pathetic creature.  

As far as he can tell, nobody notices him. The shadows cling to him like a second skin, like his body was made to have them mould around him, and he heads into the Grove. It is easy enough. The druids are all busy, guards down ever since the tieflings left, he just needs to not make too much noise and they are easy to pilfer from. Nothing too big or obvious. Nothing they really need. A healing tincture here, a handful of rare herbs there, a couple of silver pieces left loose on a stone desk. But the more he takes, the less it thrills him. 

It occurs to him that none of this has the same impact that it used to. Once, the idea of robbing good people blind filled him with glee. Now, he can only picture your face every time his hand flits out to snatch something up. How disappointed you’d be with him. He is trying to fill a hole in himself and it is one that you have made. It sounds violent, but truth be told it’s anything but - he has been split open by your kindness, as if you were simply trying to carve away the rot and allow him to properly heal. That healing has barely started, and he's trying to patch over the necessary work with old bad habits which used to bring him joy. Not any longer, though. 

No. His soul isn’t in it today.

He returns to camp with his heart and pockets heavy. He wonders what he should do with his ill-gotten gains. Return them? Perhaps, as quietly as he took them in the first place, making sure no attention is paid to him. Gloss all of this over like an artist sealing a painting, finish this nasty piece of work. 

He’s so lost in his own thoughts that, when he pulls back the fabric door of his tent, your presence there makes him actually jump.

You’re sitting on an old wooden chair, dragged over from your own quarters, legs crossed with one of your pauldrons in your lap. A cloth is grasped in your hand and you’re taking your time shining the metal. He catches you doing this a lot. You like to make sure your armour is in tip-top condition, every day. You once told him cleaning your plate mail is an act of worship for you, and he found that quietly ridiculous; Pelor forbid you get any blood on the thing saving your life every battle.

He freezes when you look up at him. The door falls closed, trapping the two of you in the canvas together.

“You’re up late,” he says, trying to affect nonchalance. He does not think you’d be here if this was a social call, at least not with such a serious countenance. 

He’s been rumbled.

“Mm. I was in bed when I received a missive.” You hold the pauldron up and breathe a stream of warmth onto it, watching it fog before polishing the same spot.

“What sort of missive?”

“Nettie said she saw you skulking around the grove.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Bloody druids and their bloody perception. He’s going to torch that bloody Grove and all of those green-fingered bastards in it.

Except no, he’s not. He’d never. Not now. But he still finds himself going on the offensive, crossing his arms and scowling.

“Oh! ‘Skulking’, was it? Was that the actual word she used?”

“Yes, Astarion.”

He doesn’t have a response to that, so he just harrumphs. 

“You know that I do not lie,” you add on, as if his silence threatens to be damnation of your oath. 

“Mmm, I’m aware of that, and it is incredibly vexing!”

Finally you put the pauldron aside, all attention on him now. Hands clasped in your lap. Serious. 

“Turn out your pockets for me please, Astarion.”

Fuck. Fuck.

“No. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

You sigh.

“Is that because you’re denying you went and robbed our druid friends, or you just don’t want me to see what you took?”

His face burns. He doesn’t answer.

“Please, Astarion. Be a good boy.”

Oh. Oh. His body has an… involuntary response to that, one he wasn’t expecting at all. He feels himself throb as those words settle about him. 

“You’re not in charge of me,” he protests, but there’s little oomph behind it, because slowly his defences are beginning to fall. You need do so little and he is laid bare at your feet. He would lay himself bare at your feet.

He wonders if he can push you further. He wonders if this is all working for you as much as it’s working for him.

“I know I am not, my heart. But when you act like a brat I have little choice but to treat you like one.”

His mouth falls open at your brazenness, a perfect pink ‘o’.

His lips say, “I’m not acting like a brat!”

His cock says, I am and it’s on purpose. 

“Pockets,” you say one more time, and he feels the full force of your gaze upon him. Half-hard and flaming-cheeked, he gives in. Slowly he divests himself of all of the grove’s trinkets and treasures, laying them out on the floor at his feet in a slow display of shame. You remain absolutely neutral through it, face hardly moving an inch. When he unhands the final bunch of herbs you finally speak.

“Come here.”

If his heart needed to beat, it would be racing. He feels himself twitch in his underwear. 

He comes to you.

You reach out, wrapping a strong but sure hand around his wrist, fingers encircling its width perfectly… and then with a single tug, you topple him over into your lap.

He squeaks. Well, really, it is more of a moan, as he lands across your knees, your palm running across the swell of his arse. He’s never been so humiliated. He’s never been so aroused.

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask, voice feather-light, as solemnly as if you were swearing a vow. 

Ever since he escaped Cazador, he never lets anyone do anything he doesn’t want to his body. He won’t let them have control over him ever again. But this? You? That is different. He knows if he said a single word to the contrary, you would cease. You would not exploit him or take him for granted. He knows that he is precious to you, a thing to be treasured.

And for that, he trusts you to the ends of the world with him. To take care of him. 

To give him what he needs.

So when you ask him if he wants you to stop, even though he knows what’s coming, he whispers, ‘no.’

The first smack steals the air from his lungs, a breath he did not need but must have taken on his way over to you. It is a firm sting, and his cock goes from half-mast to full embarrassingly quickly.

Your hand goes back.

On the second smack, he finds himself mewling, a desperate little noise beckoned from the back of his throat from your ‘punishment’. It is one of rapture. He begins to try and rut into your thigh for some sort of relief, but you open your legs wider in order to remove his purchase on you. 

He whines. It isn’t fair. You keep going.

On the third, his arse has begun to smart. If he had blood his cheeks would be rosy, he’s sure. And yet each strike is like lightning up his spine. He has begun to leak into his britches just from this, and he feels pathetic and small, but so thoroughly safe and looked after in your embrace.

You ask him if he wants to continue. He nods so violently his neck threatens to break.

If this is the penance Pelor would have you deliver, perhaps he can find it in himself to be a religious man after all.

His head empties as you keep striking, but he hears the way you pause after every slap to listen: take notice of if he wants you to stop. When the only sounds you hear are moans of satisfaction, you keep going. He lies there, bonelessly aroused and limp-bodied, his whole universe centred entirely onto your hand and his cock.

“Do you want to come, Astarion?” you ask, eventually, voice heavy with desire. He nods, and for the first time he realises he has tears of overstimulation trickling down his face, so desperate is he to find release.

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck…” he groans. 

“And you’ll be a good boy if you do?”

Fuck. Anything you want.

“Yes…”

Your hand snakes round to cup him through his trousers. It only takes a couple of strokes over the fabric, and your touch is enough to finish him off. He comes in his underwear like a teenager who cannot control themselves, mewling and sobbing in desperation. It is like a blinding light across his eyelids, he swears for a second he sees your god in the white-hot intensity of his orgasm. The best one he’s ever had. 

You’re an angel, a fucking angel sent to be his salvation. 

As he rides out his climax against the meat of your palm, he feels the other one rubbing across his sore backside. It occurs to him you’re using your Lay on Hands to soothe some of the sting for him, which, if he were more lucid, he’d find utterly ridiculous; however as it is the ache in his arse is still pleasant but now less demanding of his attention. 

You manoeuvre him to sit up, letting his whole body collapse into yours. He is aware, through the cotton-clouds of his thoughts, that you are whispering his praises. Telling him how well he did. Reassuring him how much you care for him. Letting him know how proud you are. He’s never been so pleased in his life, and rubs his face into your neck, like a pampered cat seeking attention.

“Are you alright?” is what you ask eventually, after you’re sure he’s returned to himself properly.

“To be honest, I don’t remember the last time I was better,” he manages, and you laugh in a gravelly little chuckle. 

“Good. Your happiness matters to me.”

He can’t think of anyone who that’s ever been true for. He’s humbled that you have the sincerity to voice it. You are so… you’re so…

Wonderful. 

Even now, you care. He’s never had that before.

“Astarion…”

“Mmm?”

“Tomorrow, you’re returning those things to the Grove.”

He groans and you laugh again.

“Come on, now. You said you’d be good.”

“Fine! Fine. Just… don’t make me think about those nature-loving freaks while I’m bathing in the afterglow, hmm? I just had an orgasm that sent me into the astral plane. I’d like to enjoy it there a little longer.”

You do not argue. He feels your lips curl into a smile against the soft skin of his neck. 

Later, you’ll carry him to the nearest stream and wash him, your hands dancing across his skin like worship. You’ll treat him as if he is a holy relic. Precious. 

It will be then, in the water and softness of your touch, he will realise that he loves you.

The next day he gives back what is stolen. He can’t look at your thighs without his cheeks burning.

taglist & those who seemed interested: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @clairetheflower @foxiecelery @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget @useless-contributions @beardedladyqueen @hopeful-n-sad

#Astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x y/n #astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion fic #bg3 fic #astarion x tav #Astarion smut #Also it says your skin has a pearlescent lustre. That isn’t meant to reflect skin colour - rather how matte it is

[seeingivy]

style

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

previous part linked here

an: this is 10k. I decided to leave the what am I to you scene for the next chapter bc of it...apologies....also I jsut wanted to post it bc I promised this at the beginning of the week and yday and now its been a long time coming

songs mentioned: style by taylor swift and glimpse of us by joji (minor mention of peace by taylor swift too)

--

--

“Wait, so. I don’t get it. You’re basically…acting like a couple on purpose?” Zeke asks. 

Eren spares a weary glance to his parents, matching apprehensive looks in their eyes, as he slides the salt and pepper shakers towards Zeke. 

Leave it to him to bring up the elephant in the room. 

One mention of attending an award show or a red-carpet event had the three of them dropping everything to come to New York at the drop of the hat. Especially when Scott Clarkson was going to be attending. 

Levi was more than happy to oblige them at the hotel they were all staying at, much to Eren’s dismay, which left him in his current predicament. 

That unlike his friends, who were secretly letting him indulge in something he probably shouldn’t and turning a blind eye, the three of them were never going to let it go. 

Eren knew that part of what he was doing was wrong. That he was walking a very fragile line and that their concerns, in some sense, were very valid. 

He had promised you a show. The problem was that it wasn’t just a show for him. It wasn’t even the slightest bit difficult for him to give the public exactly what they wanted to see – to go above and beyond to prove that the two of you were better than ever. 

He wanted that deeply – for it to be true. Fervently, desperately. It wasn’t hard to pretend when Eren had spent a majority of his life thinking about you, about what this would be like, anyways. 

It started out simple. Eren offered to accompany you on your first walk out in public that morning – after watching you stare at the people through the window the entire morning. There was a big crowd lingering outdoors, supplied by rumors that the group of them were staying in the hotel, and he was positive that some part of it was making you feel green. 

That and the fact that as much as you could front, some part of this had to be some level of nerve wracking to you. You had put on a brave face very well, but Eren’s deep rooted fear is that this’ll just send you deeper into that cave you retreated into last time – and that you’ll leave him waiting outside again. 

So he offered to do your first paparazzi walk with you. Cited that it would have been the perfect thing to build up more publicity, give them a greater chance of stealing the morning headlines about how today was Hyla’s birthday and the buzz around what she was going to wear tonight. 

It gave him an excuse to make sure you didn’t run off this time – that he’d be able to catch you if something happened. 

Except Eren took it too far. He had given you the permission to pump the brakes whenever you felt like it was too much and the fact that you almost never did made it impossible for him to stop. So he pulled you close whenever the paparazzi were near, brushing his nose against yours as the two of you smiled sunshine into each other’s faces. 

It was a disaster waiting to happen. Though from Eren’s expert point of view, he couldn’t fall any more than he already had. 

The problem would come later – when it would just become another memory that he cherished, had to relive after he was finally denied the promise of your company and friendship for good. 

When the show ended in two months and when you would have no reason to talk to each other again. 

Eren shakes the thought from his head as he looks back up at them. 

“Yeah. But trust me, it’s actually working. The record label dropped Ricky James and now that Y/N promised them her new album, they’re going to sever ties all together.” Eren states. 

“I just don’t see what that has to do with pretending to date. You know, especially when you’re still in love with the girl.” Carla states. 

“It’s sadistic. Even for you.” Zeke states. 

Eren shoves him in the side. With his parents' eyes averted, he takes the chance to knee Zeke this time to catch his attention. 

Could you just back me up? Eren mouths. 

Zeke rolls his eyes, before quietly mouthing his response back. 

Okay, fine! Just relax. 

Eren turns back to the two of them, mustering his best smile. And hoped that deep down, that fleeting flare of hope that’s been burning in his chest won’t go to waste this time – that there are real grounds behind actually bringing Scott Clarkson down. 

“There’s a certain publicity that you can’t buy with people who have…such a drama filled history like us. We’re aiming for a solidified deal with Ethan Cole by the end of the Met Gala.” Eren states. 

He flinches when his dad drops the fork against the ceramic of the plate. 

“Ethan Cole? Are you crazy, Eren? He’s never going to agree to a deal with you guys.” 

“Maybe a little. But I think that we could do it. I spent years being played by idiots like Scott Clarkson – it’s not hard to tell that’s how he keeps people around. And…we have an idea of exactly how to do it.” Eren states. 

“I don’t know, Eren. I don’t exactly like this idea. I wouldn’t exactly put your hopes on this.” Carla murmurs. 

Eren gives her a smile, reaching to tangle his ankle with hers under the table. 

He gets it. Deep down, he does. Because the last time Eren did this – with the court case and Connie and Lana at his side – Eren was downtrodden when Scott Clarkson’s life virtually stayed the same. Almost everyone knew, or had some semblance of an idea, that Eren had sued him, that Scott had terribly wronged him. 

He had gone through the lengths of an entire court case, just for it to amount to nothing. 

He still had his career. He still had the movies, a beloved producing company, and the godawful tabloids that ruined Eren’s life. People continued to work with him despite everything that had happened. 

“I won’t be like last time. It…it almost feels better this time around. I have everyone around me and I don’t feel alone, so.” Eren adds. 

“Well, you weren’t exactly alone the last time.” Carla states. 

“You know what he meant. It’s different.” Grisha murmurs.” 

“I do think she can do it. These people only care about what makes them money or…or moves their business forward. No one can do that for them like her. And even besides that, she’s really earnest in the way she moves. I feel like people could even become more aware of this type of thing if she spoke out about it.” Eren finishes. 

Eren looks over, looking to his mom’s brown eyes hoping for her approval. He doesn’t exactly find it, but there’s a nod. He understands it all the same – that he’s the one who gets to make the calls here, regardless. 

“Oh, let’s all relax! If Eren wants to kiss her and run around doing god knows what, that’s his business! He’s a grown man.” Zeke adds, sliding one hand around his shoulder and using his free one to pinch his cheek. 

Eren seethes, stomping hard on his foot under the table. 

“I don’t kiss her.” Eren defends. 

“Not yet, you don’t. That’s for next month, right?” Zeke responds, with a wink. 

Is this what Zeke thought backing him up was? 

Eren can feel his cheeks burn. Leave for the empty spots in the script – that Levi had stated he had some special plan for – the last part of the show was almost finished. And much to Eren’s dismay, Hange and Levi overrode his opinion in the writers room and included a kiss in the script. 

He’s just hoping for his own sake that they end up cutting it before the day comes like they did the first time. There were only so many things that he could stomach. 

“That’s filming, Zeke. That’s different.” 

Zeke rolls his eyes. 

“Right.” 

Eren’s thrown out of the loop when the door swings open, with Connie and Mikasa barging in with you at their heels. The three of you look particularly disheveled – sopping wet from the rain outside, giggly smiles on your faces – as Connie and Mikasa shake their hands at the group of them. 

“We ran out of toothpaste over there, Eren. We’re just gonna take some.” Mikasa states. 

“You needed three people to get one tube of toothpaste?” Eren asks. 

“Well, I was going to come. Then, Connie decided he wanted to accompany me. And then Y/N realized we were going to get it from your room, then decided to come.” Mikasa responds, dragging Connie off to the little bathroom at the side. 

Eren lifts his head to find you standing at the door, with…an almost awkward look on your face. The big smile that he saw seconds ago was virtually gone. 

“You know what! I think Falco’s actually calling me…so I’m just going to…” 

“You should sit. Eat breakfast with us.” Carla states, gesturing to the empty seat at her side. 

That’s when Eren realizes it – and it sends an overwhelming amount of relief through him. That you didn’t feel awkward around him but around his family instead. 

Eren racks his mind trying to remember it – when you were with them last. And if his memory isn’t deceiving him, it was the last Thanksgiving that you guys were together, a snowy November years ago. 

And he gets it, the immediate nervousness. God knows he felt the same way around Falco and Colt when they arrived – after Levi hadn’t listened to his advice to not cast the two of them in the show. Just to spare him some torture. 

Levi, obviously, refused to listen. 

You always had your guard up around Zeke and if he knew you half as well as he thought he did, he knows for a fact that you must feel embarrassed to show your face around his parents now after everything that happened. 

“Mom, it’s okay. You can go see if Falco’s good, Y/N.” Eren affirms. 

Eren watches as your eyes meet his, slightly faltering before you shake your head and drag yourself to the table. From his peripheral, he can see that Zeke’s already too delighted for his own good as Zeke quickly offers you the seat at Eren’s side and sits directly across from the two of you. 

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jaeger. I appreciate it.” you respond, smoothing the little cloth over your lap as you knit your fingers into knots. 

Eren busies himself with filling your plate, carefully sectioning small amounts of each dish, before he puts his hand in between yours. You welcome the touch, linking your fingers in with Eren’s under the table, as you shoot them all a smile. And Zeke’s godawful delighted smile back almost makes you sweat. 

“Eren. You should go check on Falco, since he was calling Y/N.” Carla states. 

“Huh? Oh, I-I’m sure he’s fine. Colt’s here and Gabi too, you know.” you mumble. 

There’s no way you’re sitting alone with his family. 

“I think Eren should check on him. That way, it won’t be in the back of your head while we talk.” Carla responds. 

Eren shoots you a questioning look at your side, as you release his hand, and give him a nod. You can tell that he’s hesitating, his movements painstakingly slow as he exits the room and closes the door behind him, leaving you with the three of them. 

“I apologize for that. He wasn’t going to leave unless you gave your approval.” Carla murmurs, as the three of them relax with his presence missing. 

Zeke takes the opportunity to take the seat at your side, filling the empty space Eren left. He leans closer, voice quiet as he whispers and nearly makes your heart drop in your chest. 

“Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to hold your hand under the table like he did.” 

You fight the urge to spit the water in your mouth straight into the glass – but swallow the shock and battery acid sensation down as you spare the two of them a glance ahead of you. 

There’s a twinge of regret – that at one point, you used to be like their chosen family and now it feels like you’ve allocated a lifetime of hurt to their son. 

“I want to start by apologizing.” you state. 

The two of them look up at you confused. 

“For?” Grisha asks. 

“Everything I did to Eren. I…I care for your son an awful lot, though it may not seem like that at times. And I hope that you know that even causing the smallest bit of pain is something that I have to carry with me everyday. Something I’ll spend a lifetime trying to rectify.” you state. 

Carla sighs, setting her fork down in her plate and crossing her arms against her forearms. You can tell that Zeke’s priming some sort of response against her just from the almost enraged look in his face and you make it a point to spare him a warning glance not to. 

Whatever wrath she had prepared for you was what you deserved. And just like Eren and Mikasa, you’d spend your entire life fixing it till it was better with her too. 

“I’m not going to pretend to understand what it was that happened between you and Eren. I can read news articles and watch interviews and documentaries but…it doesn’t exactly make sense to me. I can admit that. I don’t know why you broke up with him and…and I surely don’t know why Eren thought it was okay to say everything that he did to you.” 

“Oh. That’s nothing, really-” 

“I don’t understand how you guys can make these big, love confessions without even confronting each other in the first place. Because…you’re not together, right?” Carla asks. 

You bite down on your cheek. 

“That’s right. It’s just for the paparazzi, trying to build up the hype around-” 

“No, I get that part. But the interview, the documentary. You guys did that for each other, on some level. So I’ll ask again. You’re really not together?” Carla asks. 

You sigh. 

“No. I’m sorry. I…I haven’t thought much about that because I want everything settled before I even consider it. Being careless ruined everything last time…and I can’t afford to do that again. I want to be careful with his feelings this time around.” you state. 

Carla pauses, before standing up and joining you at your side. And you’re caught completely off guard when she wraps her arms around you, pulling you up until you’re nestled in her arms and she’s rubbing at the sides of your biceps. 

You forgot – she used to do this to you all the time.

“You…you’re a good girl. We’ve always loved you, always loved how Eren was around you, but…just be careful with our son, okay? I don’t want him to be hurt again and he’s sensitive, if that much wasn’t obvious at this point.” 

“I appreciate that. Really, I…I don’t think you guys understand what it means to me. And I won’t, I’m making my sincerest promise that I’ll try not to. He’s….he means the world to me. He’s been my best friend as long as I can remember and…no one is going to be who Eren is to me.” 

And for the first time, the two of them spare you a glimmering smile. 

“He feels the same way.” Grisha states. 

You sigh, offering the two of them a smile. And right on cue, Eren barges right through the door, the worry on his face melting as the two of you offer him a smile. You can tell that he’s a little confused – as he settles back into his seat and gives a questioning look to Zeke. 

The two of them return to eating, as you dig your own fork into the food and push it around. That’s when Zeke slides his arm around the back of your chair, leaning forward as he gives you a smirk. 

You can’t help but feel annoyed. Not in the genuine, hatred way, but in the same way you did when Colt used to tease you when you were a kid. 

“So…family that I chose now that I see your brother as my brother? That is about me, right?” 

You roll your eyes, sparing him a laugh, as you elbow him in the side. 

“I’m so sorry to break your heart here, Zeke, but that line in peace was about Eren and Falco. Not about you and me.” you state.

“Yeah, dumbass. She doesn’t even like you.” Eren mutters. 

Zeke feigns hurt as he clutches his right hand to his chest and groans. You watch as Grisha rolls his eyes in front of you and Carla fights the urge to smile at his theatrics. 

“You’re a bitch.” 

“Language, Zeke! God.” the two of them cry, rolling their eyes at Zeke. Eren rolls his eyes as he stands up, stacking all the plates and placing them at the island as you turn back to look at the group of them. 

You shake your head, laughing, as you thank your lucky stars at how comfortable it is, that you’ve floated right back into the ease that you always seemed to be in when you were around them. And Zeke too, for the first time. 

Zeke spares you a genuine smile this time, as he gets closer to you. 

“I think that you and I could be really good friends. We both love Eren and…and maybe we haven’t always done right by him but…” 

You can tell that he’s getting tripped up by the words, that the sentiment that’s underlying is something the two of you have never really shared before. A closeness that brings you together. Because for you, Zeke was always something you needed to protect Eren from and for him, you were positive now, knowing what you did now, that maybe Zeke felt robbed of some part of that. 

Getting to meet his little brother’s first girlfriend. Tease him about it, give him some brotherly advice – the way Colt did with you. That maybe he wanted the relationship that Eren and Falco had with each other with you, if things were different. 

“Yeah. But…we’re going to do right by him this time. We’ll make sure of it.” you whisper back, averting your eyes to where he’s standing. 

Zeke breaks out into a smile, extending his closed fist out to you as you push your own against his. 

“One thing?” Zeke states. 

“What’s that?” 

Zeke has a nearly murderous glint in his eye when he says it. And it fills you up with a searing feeling of warmth. 

“You give that asshole Scott Clarkson hell. For all of our sake.” 

You give him a smile back. 

“That’s a promise, Zeke.” 

--

Eren can feel himself sweating on the opposite side of the red carpet. The stickiness of the hairspray is sitting heavy in his hair, the collar digging into his neck, and palms embarrassingly sweaty as he stares at the group of people around him. 

Lana and Sukuna are fussing over fixing Connie’s outfit, Jean and Mikasa are taking shots at his side, and you can tell that Suguru Getou is truly cutting his losses at this point. 

Satoru’s wearing an outfit with literal, raw meat on it. 

“It’s camp!” Satoru whines. 

“That was the theme last year, dumbass. And it’s not camp, you’re just a nuisance.” Megumi grumbles, pinching his nose as he joins Eren at his side. 

Eren gives him a nod in acknowledgement, as he watches Yuuji at Satoru’s side, snapping excited pictures of Satoru’s meat hat and pokes his fingers into the red flesh. 

“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?” Eren asks. 

“Everyday I question my sanity.” Megumi mumbles. 

“Could be worse. You could be married to Satoru.” 

“Don’t remind me.” Suguru groans at his side, the two of them sparing a laugh. 

Megumi chooses to keep the comment to himself. He swallows, pointing out that you had said the same thing to the pair of them when Satoru dressed up like that godawful cat years prior. Megumi figures that he’ll keep this thread of your invisible string to himself, for the time being – that it might not exactly be productive for right now. 

Eren catches Levi’s head shifting towards him in the peripheral, as he looks over and tries to follow Levi’s line of vision. And feels his throat constrict as Ricky and Hyla walk past, the two of them sparing him and Lana a sickly sweet smile, and take their spots at the end of the line. 

Eren notes that despite the fact that you had side-swept all of her designers to work with you, naturally she still put together an outfit. He was hoping that it would be worse than it actually ended up being. Though he supposed the birthday girl would always get what she wanted in the end. 

“I’m ready to wipe that smug smile off of their fucking faces and I’m so serious.” 

Eren nearly jumps as he realizes you’re now standing at his side, your eye nearly twitching as you watch the two of them. But all he can feel now is his own throat itching, Ricky and Hyla the least of his problems as his skin ignites at the sight of you so close to him. Your flowery perfume is invading his senses, as he fights the urge to ogle your dress full on. 

“Y/N.” he whispers. 

“Do I look stupid? The underslip they had for the dress didn’t fit me because Hyla’s so much taller that they just…told me to wear this matching set. I feel like I’m going to be flashing everyone.” you mumble. 

“Better for you. You look fucking hot. And apparently, Hyla stole her dress from a piece that was already in the museum. I’m sure she’ll ruin it by the end of the night.” Lana states, as Sukuna joins her at the side and links his arm through hers. 

The two of them have matching stitching on their outfits, wedding rings sparkling on their fingers. Eren clears his throat, your eyes expectant as you wait for a response, and his head nearly spinning from the overstimulation. 

“She’s right. You’re beautiful.” 

“You can say she's hot, Eren. It won’t kill you.” Sukuna complains. 

Eren watches as your eyes widen, a soft pink blush running up your neck, as you avert your eyes. And Sukuna, naturally, ruins the moment by making gagging noises only to get smacked by Lana after the fact. 

The two of them shuffle off, giving you a thumbs up behind their backs, as you turn to each other. Eren links his hands in with yours, giving you three squeezes, as he looks down at the dark makeup smeared around your eyes, making your eyes appear even bigger and brighter. 

Eren gestures his head to the left, snaking his hand around your bare skin in the dress, and lines up directly behind Ricky and Hyla. And the two of you wait for them to walk out and follow directly after. 

It goes exactly how it thought you would. You haven’t walked a red carpet since the last awards show – and from what Eren told you – it had been years since he had too. 

It was simple. 

Seeing Hyla and Ricky at a carpet together was almost a given, almost too predictable. It would hardly spare a headline in comparison to you two – together. Years after the fact, with Eren’s documentary behind you. 

The clicking and the flashing immediately throws you off your guard, coupled with the screaming of your name, that you almost fall off the stiletto of your heels. But Eren’s quick with it, hands looped around your waist as he held you up against him. 

“Thanks. I-” 

“Don’t look at them. Just look at me.” Eren whispers, voice almost gravelly. 

“What?” 

“It’s better that way. Just act like you’re above them. Like you and I are the only people in the room.” Eren murmurs. 

You give him a nod, catching his drift as you follow his lead. And it almost works too well – easing your red carpet nerves when you literally don’t have to acknowledge them and just have to hold hands with Eren all the way down the carpet. 

Eren stops dead center, right before the steps, as you spare a glance over your shoulder. The group of them are following – Satoru’s raw meat causing a commotion at the start – and you turn back to him. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I know you just asked me to get you a necklace for the Ricky thing, but I actually did ask them to design a custom one for you.” 

You smile. You had made it a point – that you were going to stick it to Ricky for that stupid night that he left you drenched in the rain – but you failed to consider that this would happen. Though in hindsight, you should have expected it. 

Eren was always thoughtful when it came to things like this.

“Really?” you ask. 

Eren nods, as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the little charm necklace. You take it in his hands, admiring the little charm at the center, of the planet Saturn. You frown, turning it over in your fingers. 

“Does Saturn have some connection to Uranus that I don’t know about? I thought that I was supposed to be the moon.” you mumble. 

Eren laughs, as he shakes his head and gestures for you to spin around. You oblige, moving your hair to the side and feeling your cheeks heat up as the paparazzi snap what feels like hundreds of pictures – of Eren clasping the necklace and then pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. His voice comes out as a whisper on your skin as he pulls you closer to him, the two of you posing for the picture. 

“I mean, Marco was always a big fan of immature jokes. So I guess it does?” Eren states. 

You widen your eyes as you press your fingers to the charm, realizing what it means. 

Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn. 

The last time that you were at the Met Gala was when you performed with Marco. You can feel warm tears accumulating in your eyes as Eren cups the side of your cheek, a soft smile on his face. He taps the little pin on the lapel of his jacket, a matching little saturn charm as you bite down on your cheeks and smile back. 

“He’s here with us. Haunting us from his grave like he promised.” Eren jokes. 

You give Eren a teary laugh. 

“Yeah. I think he is too.” 

You lean your head against Eren’s shoulder, as the two of you walk straight up the stairs into the venue. There’s a glimmering chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the stage decorated a sparkling silver. 

“Do you have a Maya Angelou quote for me? She always was Marco’s favorite.” 

Eren smiles. 

“I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refused to be reduced by it.” Eren states. 

--

Falco and Colt are the ones by your side backstage. You can feel your hands shaking, throwing the mic from one hand to the other, as the two of them lean their heads against yours. 

You’re performing for the first time in years. Since you performed the grudge, at that godawful awards show years ago. 

You choose to use the wall of pictures as a distraction. One of your favorite things about performing at the Met was that they took pictures of each of the performers and pasted them to the big walls behind the curtains. People would sign the walls, the pictures themselves – to mark that they had performed here, to immortalize themselves on the wall. 

And it takes a few seconds, but you find the picture dead center. Of you and Marco. The two of you are hugging each other, cheeks pressed together with pink, teary eyes, with your names scribbled in Marco’s loopy handwriting underneath. 

seven by y/n l/n ft marco bodt 

And directly next to it, is a picture you’ve never seen before. Of Eren and Marco – their hands clasped together – and the same loopy handwriting underneath with the song. 

“He didn’t want to take that picture. He…he made me do it. Said he should still remember the moment, even if he wasn’t at his best.” Armin states. 

“Oh. Hey, what are you doing here?” 

“Just checking you’re okay. First time performing and all that. And I was back here with you the last time this happened too.” Armin murmurs. 

You smile, lacing your hand through his as you both stare at the pictures of Marco and you wrap your arms around Armin at the first sound of his sniffling. 

“Well, this is hardly about me performing, Armin.” you mumble. 

Armin gives you a watery laugh, before pulling back and wiping the wetness on his face away. 

You frown as you lightly dig your elbow into his side, trying to gesture him into talking. 

You were a little harsh when you talked to him last – when you had to convince him to finally forgive Eren. You regretted it after, being so rigid and forcing him into it, but you figured direction was what Armin needed at the time. 

“Marco said that even though that moment was bad for Eren, that even though he felt like he was never going to recover, there would be a day that he looked back on it and would relish in the fact that it was never going to be like that again. I hate the fact that Eren’s probably having that moment right now and shit is still so awkward between us that I can’t even tell him that I’m happy for him.” Armin murmurs. 

You stare at the pictures. 

“I didn’t realize you were…with Eren that day.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I was. I called him a lot after the whole Girlfriend thing, he was kind of convinced that we all hated him. And I did the same when the whole Satellite Port thing happened too.” 

Armin pauses. 

“I was always there for him, until I wasn’t. And I feel like I’m fucking groveling but things still won’t be the same between us.” 

“Well, don’t lose hope about that. Mikasa and I-” 

“You and Mikasa are different. You’re…you overlook things easier than we do. Mikasa wanted you to be her maid of honor again after you said you wanted to sleep in her room – just because she realized you still loved her. Even if Eren knew I loved him, I doubt that would fix what happened with us.” 

You lean your head against your shoulder. 

“Did you finish the script yet, Armin?” you whisper. 

“What?” 

“Did you finish it?” 

“Yeah.” 

You look over at him and smile. 

“That last conversation? Between your character and his? He wrote that all on his own. It’s obviously a little bit more dramatic than he intends it but…the premise is still there. You and him, still best friends at the end of it.” 

Armin looks back at the pictures, running his hands through his hair, and ruining any semblance of styling in his golden locks. 

“You think Marco would be pissed at us? All of us?” Armin mumbles. 

“No. I know he would have loved to seen us all reconcile. That he would have been really happy for us.” 

Falco and Colt give you a gesture over your shoulder, as you shoo Armin back to his seat, and readjust the feathers on the sleeves of your dress. You give Colt a smile as he hands you the last piece of the outfit, the glittery garter belt that you wrap over your thigh as you take your cue. 

--

Eren gives you props for hundreds of things, but this one specifically. It was hard to find something that you were bad at, since it felt that you were naturally skilled at everything, but when he watched you, like this, he couldn’t help but feel like you were born for it. 

You really knew how to put on a performance. 

It’s pitch black, leave for your purple silhouette against the back of the stage. Of your fingers running across the neck of the guitar, playing the opening notes to the song Maki requested days prior – that you named Style. 

Midnight You come and pick me up, no headlights Long drive Could end in burning flames or paradise Fade into view, oh It's been a while since I have even heard from you (heard from you)

And I should just tell you to leave 'cause I Know exactly where it leads, but I Watch us go 'round and 'round each time 

Eren watches as you pause, the entire backtrack and music stopping, as the entire crowd jumps to his feet and starts hollering for you when they finally shine the lights on you. Eren watches as you give everyone a little wave, pressing your hands to your cheeks unable to contain your smile before you gesture for everyone to be quiet so you can keep singing.

And feels his chest fill with immense pride as you walk all the way down the stage, fingers fast and smiling from ear to ear as you sing again. He can’t help but feel embarrassed as the group of them – Connie, Reiner, and Jean – start smacking him on the back, screaming about how crazy his girl was. 

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style You got that long hair, slicked back, white T-shirt And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

When you reach the end of the stage, Eren watches as you slightly trip on your steps, before averting your eyes down to your leg. In the mess of walking and the notches on the guitar, a part of your stockings had ripped. 

Eren was impressed that you were still singing, as you reached down and took the halves of the garter belt in your hands, before you started looking out in the audience. And Eren can’t help but feel like in that moment, that some divine power might actually be real. 

Because three years ago, it was Hyla’s birthday and he was stuck at a dinner table thinking about you. About how he’d never feel that rush, that thrilling electricity that seemed to thrum in his veins whenever you looked at him. 

And he knows for a fact that really, it almost has to be real – a higher power that was looking out for him the entire time. Because years after the fact, he’s sitting here, blushing profusely as you throw the garter belt to him to catch, before you like down on the stage and scream your heart out. 

To a song that you wrote about him. 

Take me home Just take me home Yeah, just take me home Oh, whoa, oh (Out of style)

Oh, you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down (now we go), we come back every time  'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style 

--

--

“Ethan Cole! You’re just the person I wanted to see.” you state. 

Fresh off of the performance, with the little note card tucked in your hand, he’s the first person that you beeline towards. 

On first impression, he’s younger than Scott Clarkson by a landslide – beachy, golden hair as he stands from his share to take your extended hand. 

“Y/N L/N! Quite the performance up there, my daughter is a huge fan. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ethan asks. 

You give the girl at his side a warm smile, the girl barely above the age of fifteen, as you turn back to him. 

“You know, I’ve really missed doing romantic comedies. I’ve heard that’s your forté,” you state. 

“Is that right?” 

“As fun as Attack on Titan can be, the drama can…be a little draining. I would love to get behind you if you produced a romantic comedy that I could star in.” 

You watch as he pinches his smile, eyes strained as he looks around the room. 

“I’m not sure how keen…some people at the company would be about that.” Ethan murmurs. 

“Who said you had to do it with them?” you state. 

“Huh?” 

You give him the best, most sickly sweet smile that you muster. “Who said…you have to do it with him?” 

You pull the little note card out of your backpocket, with your phone number scribbled over the top, and hand it to him. 

“You could easily produce it on your own. And if it was a star studded movie, you could avoid the risks of being associated as a start-up all together.” you state. 

Ethan pauses, for a while. 

“My own company?” 

“That’s right. You’re young, younger than your competition, and with how things have been going lately…I’m doubt they’ll stay afloat longer. If I were you, I’d capitalize on the fact that your own competition is about to be eliminated.” you state. 

You can tell that he almost doesn’t believe you. 

“I’ll have to think about it.” Ethan states. 

“Sure thing, Ethan. If the situation was right, I could even be persuaded to get some of my….friends to join. And I know you’re a smart guy – there’s some publicity that other people couldn’t even dream of buying.” 

You spare a glance over your shoulder to Eren at the stage with Lana, as she takes her seat at the piano and Eren begins adjusting the microphone at the stand. 

“I look forward to talking to you, Ethan.” 

And you give him a sickly sweet smile before you walk away. You settle back into your seat next to Levi and Connie – who had decided to take Eren’s open seat while he performed. 

“How did it go?” Levi asks. 

“He didn’t buy it.” you state. 

Levi gives you a terse nod, as you shake your head and readjust your seat to face the stage. Connie pulls his seat up right next to yours, the two of you giving each other a smile as you link your arms together and lean your head against his shoulder. 

“It’s your song!” you whisper. 

Connie leans his head on top of yours, voice quiet as Lana starts playing the piano. 

“It’s actually not. It’s even worse.” 

“Huh?” 

You lift your head off of his shoulder to eye him, and he only smiles, deviously, in return. 

“Let’s just say if it was my birthday today, I’d commit a murder after this.” 

You turn back to the stage, eyeing the little star decals hanging from the little ceiling, and watch as Eren nervously shakes his hands, before placing them on the mic stand. He turns to his left, giving the group of you a smile, before he starts. 

“I wrote this song exactly five years ago today when I was twenty. I was stuck at a birthday party, with a bunch of people I hated, and all I could think about was how I just wished that I was somewhere else. And really, I was hoping that the person that I really wanted beside me, had some semblance of that feeling about me too. This is my new song, it’s called Glimpse of Us.” 

When you're out of sight In my mind

'Cause sometimes I look in her eyes And that's where I find a glimpse of us And I try to fall for her touch But I'm thinking of the way it was Said I'm fine and said I moved on I'm only here passing time in her arms Hoping I'll find A glimpse of us

Eren always claimed that singing was never his forté and even from the way he moved – you could tell that he clearly felt more comfortable when he was acting. That he most definitely believed that his talents lied on a set rather than on a stage. 

And for maybe the hundredth time, it’s clear that Eren’s own visions of himself have clearly limited him. 

Because he’s beautiful. 

The stage design makes it look like he’s suspended in the sky, in between the moon and the stars, and the lack of production to the song – the fact that it’s just his voice and Lana’s fingers on the piano is chilling. 

It reminds you of that song that he wrote for you on the beach. 

Eren dislodges the microphone from the stand, tossing Lana a smile over his shoulder, before he walks directly to the edge of the stage that’s closest to you and Connie. And uses his hand to gesture for you to come closer, as he takes a seat and dangles his legs off the edge of the stage. 

You can feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach as you pull your chair closer to the stage, right until you’re looking up at Eren from your little seat and he’s looking down at you. And as he sings, he reaches down and places one of his hands on your cheek – the biting cold of the rings on his fingers cooling the warmth on your cheek – but doing nothing to help the burning in your chest from his dark green eyes, filled with such warmth and sincerity that it makes your heart race. 

You bring your own hand up to where his is on your cheek and he gives you a dimpled smile in return. 

'Cause sometimes I look in her eyes And that's where I find a glimpse of us And I try to fall for her touch But I'm thinking of the way it was Said I'm fine and said I moved on I'm only here passing time in her arms Hoping I'll find A glimpse of us

When he finishes, you press a kiss to the top of his knuckles and try to memorize the way the smile spreads across his face.  

--

Your last chance to convince this cowardly idiot Ethan Cole to agree with you guys is at the afterparty for the Met Gala, which coincidentally, you’ve never attended. 

The last time you were here, the entire ordeal was so draining – considering it was the first time that you had seen Eren since you broke up and you were here with Ricky – that you just skipped the party afterwards and went home. And you would have done the same thing now, since your hair was feeling sticky and your legs felt like lead from the heels, but you had to give it one last shot before you left. 

You had taken Mikasa and Jean’s lead, and decided to take four shots with them, by the time the party was in full swing. And right before the fifth, Eren suddenly materialized after being missing for the first half of the party and slipped it away from your nimble fingers and downed it himself. 

“Are you drinking?” he asks, shaking his head from the burn, before handing the glass back to Jean. 

“Well, obviously not if you’re taking my glass.” 

Eren reaches forward, fingers on the little ribbon around your neck, before you smack his hand off. 

“I like the outfit. It’s like the scarf from the show.” 

“That’s the point.” you state. 

Eren rolls his eyes as you both lean back against the wall, eyeing the crowd of people in front of you. 

“You should have told me. I would have matched.” Eren states. 

“How are you supposed to match? Your costume on set doesn’t have something as…obvious like the scarf.” 

“I would have just done the titan marks and called it a day.” Eren mumbles back. 

You nod, mulling over the idea, as you reach for the back hanging around your shoulder. And luckily for you, your lipstick is still in the bag – though most of the time, the bags that you have on red carpets have literally nothing on them – and instruct him to crouch so you can reach. He obliges, flashing you a smile, as you intently focus on drawing the lines under his eyes. 

Eren takes the distraction – the focus that you have from drawing on his face – and uses it to observe you. 

“Did you like my song?” Eren asks. 

“You’re insane. Did you really write that five years ago or did you make that up?” you whisper. 

“Nope. I wrote it after the last Met Gala, I think Hyla’s birthday was like a week or two after that.” he mumbles back. 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, what you were hoping was actually true. When I was at that Met Gala, I really just wished that I was with you, sitting with the rest of the cast.” 

Eren laughs. 

“Who said the song was about you?” Eren jokes. 

You pause, only to look up to glare at him, before you lightly shove him. And you can tell that he’s joking but it’s still irritating. 

“You’re such a dick, sometimes.” 

“You were thinking about me?” Eren responds, closing his hand around yours and snatching the little tube of lipstick from your hand. 

He lifts his phone up, looking at the reflection from the screen of his phone, as he messily finishes off the marks on the other side, more messy and jagged. And as annoying as he is, it’s extremely attractive when he does it – capping the lipstick and curling it back into the palm of your hand. 

“You wish.” you respond. 

Eren leans against the wall and you join him at his side, the two of you eyeing Ethan Cole at the end of the hall, with Ricky and Hyla posted up on the other side. You can’t help but seethe with anger as you watch the two of them together, curling your hands into little fists at your side. 

“I saw that video that was going around on Twitter a little while ago. Of you and Ricky, last time you were here.” Eren responds. 

“What video?” 

“It was on the red carpet. He like…grabbed your arm and shoved you.” Eren clarifies. 

“Oh! That’s right. He was trying to introduce me to John and I said some crap about him to Historia. Then, he got all pissed saying that I had to be nice to him or whatever since he was nice to you guys.” you respond. 

Levi and Hange walk up to the pair of you, arms linked together, as you straighten up. The two of them had weary eyes, focused on Eren, as they look around. 

“Eren. He’s here.” 

“Who’s here?” you ask. 

“Scott Clarkson. He just walked in – guess he’s not deciding to skip after all.” Hange responds. 

Eren leans forward, angling his head over the crowd of the people, towards the opening at the front of the hallway and feels his throat turn to sandpaper. Eren clenching his fists so hard that he’s sure he’s drawing blood, the entirety of the conversation almost lost to him as he feels himself nearly losing balance on his legs. 

“You’re free to leave, Eren. We have a car ready for you. If you want to stay, we’re here with you.” Hange states. 

You look around to the other side of the room to find Connie talking to a group of people, none of which you knew. Mikasa and Jean are a few feet away – but clearly drunk out of their mind – and you can’t seem to find anyone else who could stay with him. You jerk your head back, to the two of them. 

“Listen. I’ve got Eren. Could you guys check that Connie’s going to be fine?” 

Hange and Levi turn their heads to the side, giving you a nod, as they speed walk to the other side of the room and you link your arm in with Eren’s. He’s still staring at the other side of the room and you lightly tug on his arm to catch his attention, his eyes almost dazed when he looks at you. 

“Sorry. Did Hange and Levi say something?” 

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay. We can leave if you want to, there’s a car and everything.” 

“No…no, we didn’t talk to Ethan Cole yet. And, it’s fine.” Eren responds, shaking his head. 

It’s not that Eren’s exactly scared of Scott Clarkson, though there was a point in time that he most certainly would be. It’s more that he’s intimidated by what could go down, because while Eren knows that he isn’t exactly being swayed by him anymore, it’s a debilitating reminder every time he makes a comment that sends Eren tumbling back down. 

“Lana and Sukuna are together. I sent Hange and Levi to check on Connie. And I’m here with you, so…so all the bases are covered.” you respond. 

Eren smiles. 

“You’re here with me? What are you going to do?” 

“Punch him in the face.” you respond. 

Eren laughs. 

“Are you crazy?” 

“Do I look like a comedian to you?” you ask Eren. 

“You look more like a clown to me.” 

You feel your eyes widen, as you turn to your side and find Hyla and Ricky standing right to the left of you and Eren. You’re not sure what it is, but Eren suddenly squared his shoulders back, muscles tense at the sight of them. 

“Do you need something?” Eren asks. 

Hyla rolls her eyes as she looks at Eren, before turning back to you. And her eyes flicker to the necklace around your neck, before she looks back up at you and smiles. 

“Cute necklace!” 

Eren grins at your side. They took the bait. 

“Do you like it, Ricky? It’s custom Tiffany. I had it made special for Y/N myself.” Eren asks. 

You watch as Ricky furrows his brow, slightly clenching his jaw and nearly pink in the face, as he rolls his eyes in response – very clearly understanding the reference. 

“I don’t know where the fuck you think you get off, Eren. Need I remind you, that while I was at the top of my fucking career you were cleaning up a baby’s diapers.” 

You watch as Eren’s eye twitches, knuckles white at his side as he doesn’t respond. And it only gets more agitating since Ricky clearly gets off on the fact that Eren refuses to fight back, and takes it as an invitation to keep going. 

“Seriously, dude. You started at the fucking top of the food chain – your parents are literally Grisha and Carla Jaeger – and yet you’re slumming it with Lana and Sukuna. Lana’s quite literally the biggest bitch I’ve ever met in my life. Don’t pretend like you’re both not trying to get your five minutes of fame by talking about me. And don’t even get me started on how pathetic Sukuna is for what he said in that dumbass documentary the two of you made. Donating to sexual assault victims won’t fix a lack of talent.” 

“Where do you get-” 

“Y/N.” Eren states, silencing you all together. 

“That’s right, Eren. You better keep my sloppy seconds-” 

Ricky doesn’t get to finish the statement, because Eren’s punched him in the face. Not once, not twice, but three times to the point where he’s tackled him onto the floor, a bright red decorating his knuckles. 

“Y/N. What the fuck? Get him to stop!” 

You know that it’s petty. That maybe if you were a little bit of a better person, you actually would have asked Eren to stop. But Ricky James was quite literally the worst person you had ever met and deep down, there wasn’t even a single part of him that didn’t deserve what he was getting right now. 

You crouch down on your knees, Eren momentarily stopping to look at you, before you shake your head and look down at him. 

“I’m so sorry, Ricky. I don’t think I can do that right now.” 

Eren smiles, as he lands one more punch, before a very drunk Jean and Reiner are able to pull him off – Maki and Pieck at your sides as they rub into the softness of your arms. You shake your head, signaling to them that you were fine, as Eren looks over at you over the accumulating crowd of people, and gives you a gesture. You nod, as Eren extends his hand out to you, and the two of you walk to the other side of the room. You eye the blood on Eren’s hand, all Ricky’s you’re sure, as Eren stops at the table and starts filling the cups with the lemonade. 

“We need a drink.” Eren states. 

“That’s what got you pissed off, Eren? When he started talking bad on my name?” you mumble. 

“I love your name.” Eren defends. 

You smile. 

“Though, I always felt like it’s missing something.” Eren adds. 

You roll your eyes. 

“And what’s that, huh?” 

“My last name.” Eren responds. 

Eren watches as a blush creeps over your cheeks and try not to laugh when you mutter something that sounds an awful lot like fuck you under your breath as he passes you one of the glasses of lemonade. Which is right when Lana comes up and snatches the glass from his hand and slams it down on the table. 

“Are you a fucking idiot, Eren?” Lana seethes. 

“What?” Eren responds, giving her an annoyed shrug back as he takes the glass back and hands you one. 

“You promised, Eren.” Sukuna responds. 

“You two can get your panties out of a twist. I didn’t break any promises.” 

“Do you think I’m blind, Eren?” Lana asks. 

Eren rolls his eyes, as he leans down, bringing his face closer to Lana’s. It’s the same thing that Colt does to you – on the rare occasions that he’s able to prove you wrong. 

“You made me promise that if Ricky said anything about Teddy or you, I wouldn’t say anything. And Sukuna made me promise that if Ricky said anything about him, I wouldn’t do anything, because it would upset you.” Eren states. 

That’s why he didn’t say anything. 

“Our princess over here didn’t force me to make any promises like that. So the second he called her sloppy seconds, I did what I had to do.” Eren responds. 

Lana’s eyes widen, as she turns her head to you. 

“What a dick. Are you okay?” Lana asks. 

“I’m fine. He said worse about you guys, I wanted to punch him myself.” 

Eren smiles, as he leans down to look at you. 

“Too bad. He’s getting escorted out on his ass now, so you lost your chance.” Eren responds, pointing towards the door. 

And surely enough, the security are taking him out with his hands secured behind his back – no thanks to the obscene screaming he’s doing – while Hyla looks maybe the most irritated you’ve ever seen before. She spares you one last glance, to which you and Eren respond with glimmering smiles, before she walks out. 

Lana gestures towards the bathrooms as Eren follows, presumably to wash his hands, leaving you and Sukuna by the table, nursing the little glasses of lemonade in your hands. And wordlessly, you extend your glass out to Sukuna – and thank your lucky stars that he understands – as he pulls the little flask from the pocket and pours it into your drink and then his. 

“Eren’s been waiting for that one.” Sukuna states. 

“I’m shocked you haven’t.” you respond. 

“Maybe before. But you know, with the kid, you have to be a good role model and all that. Plus, I hate when Lana lectures me because she gets really mean.” 

You snort. 

“I’d be scared of her too.” you respond. 

“Speaking of scared, how many drinks until he falls off?” Sukuna asks, pointing to the left. 

You follow his line of vision to find Yuuji standing on top of the bar, tie loosely hanging around his neck and pink in the face with Satoru, as he sings along to the music playing from the speakers. 

“Which one are you talking about? I think they’re both well past that point.” you respond. 

“Yuuji, obviously. I’m going to stop him before he ends up on a headline.” Sukuna responds. 

“You have fun with that. I’ll watch from over here.” you respond, as Sukuna walks away. 

When you scan the room for Ethan Cole, you find that he’s already looking at you. You give him a polite wave, positive that whatever Eren just did with Ricky James must have swayed him some type of way, as you lean back against the edge of the table. And the table dips slightly under you, nearly making you spill the glass of lemonade, when you find Scott Clarkson leaning against at your side, his beady eyes fixed on you. 

“Y/N. It’s nice to see you.” 

“I’m so glad you were finally able to learn my name.” you respond.  

Scott clicks his tongue in his cheek, before extending his hand out to shake it at you. You begrudgingly oblige, skin curling with disgust as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, and leans back. 

“I’ll admit, I had you pegged all wrong in the beginning. But I’m sure that you can understand, it can be so hard to trust new and upcoming talent like that when you run a big company.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” you deadpan. 

“I think we should let bygones be bygones. I even think that we could be useful to one another. If you really wanted full ownership of your albums back, I could get it for you. Just a few movies, here and there, and they’d be back in your hands.” 

You feel your throat dry. 

“What did you just say to me?” 

“I’m sure you know I am well acquainted with Danny and Sareen. I’m sure I could persuade them, after a little give and take.” 

You thank the heavens that the stylists had stacked each of your fingers with a perfect set of silver rings. You sure it made it hurt even more when you slapped him across the face. 

“You have some nerve, you asshole. Don’t even think about-” 

You feel a set of arms on your biceps, squeezing hard, as you turn your head to find Levi at your side. You shake your head, turning back to Scott, who no whas a group of people around him, inspecting the red mark you’ve left on his cheek. 

“Levi. Fucking, get off.” 

“This is not the time for this. You and Eren are leaving, you’ve had too much to drink.” Levi responds, pushing you out into the cold air outside the hall and near the taxi. 

Eren’s leaning against the car door and he quickly jumps up at the sound of your voice, meeting Levi at your side. 

“Did you hit him, Y/N? They’re saying that you hit him.” 

“I slapped him.” 

Eren pinches his mouth into a line. 

“Did he hit back?” Eren asks. 

“What? No. Levi started yanking me off of him before I could get another one in.” 

Eren passes Levi a thankful smile, before ducking your head into the taxi, and tuning back into your rambling. 

“He’s such a dick. He fucking had that coming, trying to offer me a career like I don’t know who he is and what he fucking does. Like really, even down to being an opportunist, does he really think I care about my album that was already stolen from me over all of my friends? Over you? I think he’s a psychopath and we didn’t even get to solidify the deal with Ethan Cole or-” 

“Okay, Y/N. Relax. It’s-” 

“We have to do something to get his attention. Something crazy. I have an idea but…you have to follow my lead, okay?” 

Eren’s slightly hesitant. Only because he can tell that you really are tipsy from the light pink tint in your cheeks and the way that you’re shaking your legs. But he hates to tell you no, especially when you’re staring at him so expectantly, waiting for an answer. 

And when you drag Eren into a sweaty tattoo parlor, Eren realizes that maybe you’re well past tipsy. 

“I technically picked what we did last time, Eren. So it’s your turn. Just make sure it’s something like…fucking crazy. Like iconic.” 

Eren has an idea. But he can’t say it. Because you can’t possibly get that tattooed. And he’s sure that it’s showing on his face, because now you’re giving him an excited smile, jumping up and down on your feet waiting for him to tell. 

“Oh my god. What is it? Tell me right now.” 

“Uh. The moon and the ocean.” Eren responds. 

You frown. 

“We already basically have that as a tattoo, Eren. With the fish? And I can tell that’s not what you were going to say.” you respond. 

Eren sighs. 

“Y/N. It’s too much.” 

“Nothing’s too much! Come on, it’s you and me that we’re talking about. We got fucking matching tattoos when we were like eighteen and released songs about quite literally fucking each other on the same day! We can get a crazy tattoo!” 

“You’re so crass when you’re drunk, Y/N.” 

“The word Levi used was homicidal.” you respond. 

Eren sighs, as he tells you his idea, and watches your face light up. And after the fact, Eren can’t help but feel like he’s on top of the world.

Because for a second time now – the two of you are running down the streets, bathed in the dim lamplight and laughing into the night. Matching tattoos of each other’s names on the inside of your lips, a confession on the tips of your tongues like you were two soulmates destined to be together.

That’s the moment you’re able to coin it. 

You’re head over heels in love with Eren Jaeger. Again. Maybe even worse, more desperately than the first time.

And as the perfect cherry on top, Ethan Cole sends you a message confirming the deal the following morning.

--

--

next part linked here

an: are you catching my hint for the songs in our next chapter.....which is an AWARDS SHOW CHAPTER ARE WE READY. and don't worry....scott clarkson and danny/sareen welcome to your tape...this next chapter is for you

(pls tell me someone gets the pussy joke that megumi made and that im not just horrendously chronically online)

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