#sometimes he asks me what i think about stuff

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 9. the end

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel leaves overnight for a scouting mission. When he returns, you finally confess your feelings for him.

Chapter Warnings: language, amnesia, slow burn, dry humping, some dead bodies 'n stuff, fluff, feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), piv unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), soft!joel, guns?

WC: 9.1K

Series Masterlist

A/N: Two things. One: I don't have the slightest clue how memory loss works and if what I am about to detail in this chapter is even plausible but if television has taught me anything, nothing is impossible only extremely rare. Two: this is the final chapter and it makes me very sad. I wish I could have thought of more storylines to drag this out but at the end of the day, I feel good about how it all came together and I can't thank quite literally hundreds of you enough for reading this each week. It's kind of insane. So, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Also, if anyone wants to toss some one-shot/sequel ideas my way, I am all ears. Much love.

Two Weeks Later

"Joel," you whispered, your head tilted back into the couch cushion while his mouth greedily nipped and sucked at your neck. His hips were grinding lightly against your center and you knew if you didn't stop soon, you would be in trouble. "I think we should slow down."

"Mhmm," he mumbled in agreement, reluctantly pulling his hand from underneath your shirt.

"You're lucky it's still cold enough for me to wear a scarf," you murmured into his hair. He sighed against your neck, finally dragging his mouth away and sat up on the couch while yet another movie went unwatched on the TV.

"Can't seem to get enough of you," he said with a grin, his arm stretching over the back of the sofa. You rolled your eyes dramatically but smiled, pushing yourself up and fixing your shirt before looking at the TV. "Brad Pitt's in this?"

Joel tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "Think he's the main character," he told you, and you scowled at him but he could tell you weren't actually angry.

"Well maybe if you didn't distract me every time we try to watch a damn movie, I would know that."

The past two weeks had been downright perfect. Joel couldn't be any happier. Now that things had changed between you, he craved your touch constantly. Part of him wondered if it was his way of trying to make up for lost time because you weren't wrong: he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had no desire to leave the house or see anybody. All he wanted was to stay holed up with you doing absolutely everything and nothing. He shuddered to think how crazy he would become when you were finally ready to take things further. Tommy will have to drag him by the collar from your bed for his patrol shifts.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, leaning into his side and tucking your legs underneath you, only half listening to the movie.

"Patrol," he answered while the tips of his ears burned red from embarrassment, like you caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. He was perfectly fine waiting as long as it took until you were ready, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about it. And the fact that he already knew what you felt like, what you sounded like, what made you come undone, worked him up even more.

"How are you feeling about getting back out there?" you asked, tipping your head up to look at him. He didn't seem worried but it was hard to tell sometimes.

"Actually, there was somethin' I wanted to talk to you 'bout," he admitted. "And if you don't want me to do it, I won't. I put you through enough shit as it is-"

"Spit it out, Miller," you said, shifting out from under his arm.

"Now that the snow's melted, I wanna take a couple guys and scout the area for any trace of those raiders," he began, watching your face closely. "I won't go far, but..."

"But?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"But I would be gone overnight. Just one night," he assured you quickly when he saw your face.

"Wouldn't the others have already noticed anything out of the ordinary on patrol?" you asked as anxiety began to squeeze your throat. "I don't understand why you need to go out there."

"'Cause I only trust myself to make sure we're safe," he explained. "If somethin' happened to anyone 'cause I led these assholes to our doorstep, I'd never forgive myself. D'you understand?"

You chewed on your lip and glanced down at your lap as you weighed your options. On one hand, you understood where he was coming from. And if no one else on patrol or guard had yet to see or find anything strange, then Joel would most likely not find anything, either. But on the other hand, just simply leaving Jackson was a risk. And even if Joel didn't find any other raiders, he wouldn't mean he would be safe from whoever or whatever else was out there.

Joel pinched your chin and gently tugged your lip from between your teeth, making you snap out of it.

"Can I go with you?"

Joel's face softened. "No, baby. You don't even remember how to shoot a gun. I can't risk it."

Of course, he was right. "Who would you take?"

He smiled and dropped his hand. "Tommy. Neil. George. Couple others offered, too, but I'm not sure how many we wanna bring. Don't wanna stick out like a sore thumb with ten horses out in the middle of the woods."

You relaxed a bit knowing he would be going with some of Jackson's most seasoned patrolmen.

"Okay," you agreed softly. His face lit up and he leaned forward.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you sighed, looking over at the TV as the credits began to roll. He hooked a finger under your chin and dragged your eyes back onto him.

"Thank you," he whispered before pressing his lips firmly against yours, trying with all his might to pour every ounce of affection and adoration he had for you into the kiss. You giggled against his mouth as he tried to push you onto your back once again, but you playfully shoved his shoulder before breaking the kiss and scooting away.

"We told Ellie we'd meet her and Dina for dinner, remember?"

He groaned as if he were in physical pain and reached out for you but you quickly stood up, wagging a finger at him. He gazed up at you from the couch with his brown eyes all wide and gentle.

"I mean it, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

You blushed and bit your lip as you slowly walked backwards towards the stairs. "You can make it up to me one day."

Joel's gaze darkened and he dug his fingers into the couch cushion. "Just say the word, baby. Anytime. Anywhere."

You laughed and turned towards the steps. "Come on, we should get ready for dinner."

"In a minute," he said as you disappeared upstairs. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will his raging hard on away before standing up and following you.

You inhaled deeply, your body heavy with sleep as you struggled to focus on Joel's voice.

"Sweetheart, I'm leavin'."

With a groan, you rolled over and reached out for him blindly, your eyes still not fully adjusted to the beam of light shining in from the hallway.

He smiled and grabbed your hands, wrapping them around his neck. He felt your fingers dig into the back of his neck and shoulders as you feebly attempted to pull him towards you.

You asked him to wake you up before he left for his scouting mission, so he did as you requested but you were so warm and soft and supple under his touch that he was finding it impossible to leave.

Maybe you planned it that way.

"I'll be back late tomorrow. I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your temple, taking an extra moment to savor it. When he pulled away, your fingers tightened around his neck and you lifted your chin, kissing him with an urgency he hadn't expected from your half-awake state.

"Come home to me, Joel," you mumbled, your eyes squinting at him through the darkness. He pulled an arm from around his neck and brought your knuckles to his lips.

"Promise."

It was so hard to leave but he kept reminding himself he was doing it to keep you safe. Regardless of what Tommy thought, something in his gut told him they hadn't seen the last of those raiders. He brought them into the mountains, and he was determined to be the one to finish it.

"I'm still surprised she let you do this," Tommy said a few hours into their travels. George was leading the group while he and Tommy brought up the rear. The forest was silent, save for the birds just beginning to wake in the branches above. After a long, painful winter, it was a relief to hear the first signs of spring.

"What'dya mean let me?" Joel scoffed, but when he locked eyes with Tommy, who was giving him a look that said he saw right through his bullshit, Joel grinned. "Yeah, alright, it took a little work but she understood."

Tommy nodded and went back to paying attention to their surroundings. They were officially in unguarded territory, the nearest patrol route now miles behind them. The trees had yet to fully bloom so it was still rather easy to see through the woods.

"I think you really freaked her out when you left," Tommy said, "she came runnin' to the house that mornin' in a panic. Thought she wouldn't let you leave her sight again after that."

Joel hummed and turned his head so his brother wouldn't see his smile. He didn't want to worry you, but every time he heard something like that, it reminded him how much you cared, even if you couldn't say it just yet.

"So, you two back to normal now or what?" Tommy pried. Joel shot him a look and he shrugged. "We got a long journey here. We can't talk to pass the time?"

"Yeah, mostly back to normal," Joel finally answered, shifting his weight in his saddle. He could already feel his lower back beginning to flare up. "Takin' things slow. Givin' her as much time as she needs."

Tommy nodded, reading between the lines. "Didn't look that slow the other night after dinner," he muttered under his breath, but Joel still heard him.

"She had a couple drinks, is all," he replied with a chuckle. He scratched his chin as he thought back to a few nights prior when you had draped your arms around his shoulders and your face buried against his neck for the better part of thirty minutes. It was late, all of the families had cleared out after dinner, leaving behind the adults to kick back and cut loose a bit. It reminded Joel of a time before the world went to hell. When he and Tommy would go to a bar on a Friday night, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air while the patrons had to shout over a mediocre cover band playing Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was the first time in a long time he felt relaxed and at ease. He watched his brother and wife across the bar steal kisses around conversations with neighbors, grateful for a night out as Ellie had offered to babysit. He had you at his side, sipping whiskey and making a face before you switched to something else.

As the night dragged on, you got a little closer. Then your hand found his knee under the table and you tilted your head into his shoulder, quietly listening to him discuss the plan for the trip with George. He wrapped an arm around your waist but his focus was entirely on George, too concerned with the map he had spread out over the wooden table. George's wife finally came to collect him, telling him she was tired and he was too old to be trying to keep up with the younger men, shot for shot. She wasn't wrong by the way he stood up and stumbled a bit, leading him towards the door, leaving just the two of you at your table. Once you were alone, your arms snaked around his neck and you tugged him to your lips, your tongue greedily licking into his mouth, the heavy taste of whiskey and gin on your combined breath.

"You sure it was just the drinks? You don't think it had anythin' to do with Angie sittin' two tables over?"

Joel's face flushed and he cleared his throat. It shouldn't turn him on but he couldn't help it. He liked it when you were possessive over him.

"Didn't think it wise to ask," was all he said. Tommy chuckled.

The group made decent time. They had a grid in mind and they almost reached their desired destination by sundown. When morning came, the plan was they would make their way back towards Jackson and cover the northeast quadrant of the map.

As they set up camp for the night, deciding to forego a fire since the temperature was comfortable and they didn't want to risk giving away their location, Neil commented that they hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary so far.

"Not that I mind coming out here, Joel," he followed up quickly, "always a good idea to take precautions and all that."

Joel nodded and focused on spreading out his sleeping bag. "I appreciate you all comin'. Not sure if I say it enough, but I'm grateful."

Neil and George exchanged surprised looks at the unexpected appreciation.

They got an early start the next morning, and as the sun rose higher in the sky and more ground was covered, Joel began to wonder if maybe they would make it back to Jackson sooner than he thought. He really hoped they would. Even if it was just one day, he missed you. He hated sleeping without you. He hated waking up and not finding you curled up against him with your head resting on his chest or his arms wrapped about your waist, face buried against the back of your neck.

He was glancing around the forest, wondering what you were doing right at that very moment when he spotted something orange in the distance. His heart rate picked up and he whistled, catching the group's attention. He pointed through the trees and they all silently slid down from their horses. Checking their weapons, they fanned out and slowly made their way towards the scrap of fabric. As they got closer, Joel could see it was a knit cap stuck in a bush, fluttering in the wind. None of the men saw any other signs of life, each of them silently communicating with hand signals they were taught years ago.

Tommy heard shuffling and he held up his hand, bringing the group to an immediate stop. From his angle, Joel could see that the bush with the knit cap was right outside the opening of a small cave. The way the trees had grown around the rocks, it was impossible to notice it from a distance.

The perfect hiding spot.

He exchanged worried looks with Tommy before they crept closer, his rifle gripped tightly in both hands, ready for anything. The shuffling got louder and clearer and it became apparent that the noise was coming from right within the mouth of the cave. Catching Tommy's eye, he made sure to show him he was putting his rifle away in favor of his hunting knife. He always preferred a silent takedown over wasting ammunition, but just in case it went sideways, Tommy would be ready to cover him.

Joel situated himself next to the mouth of the cave while the other men, spread out amongst the trees, hid and waited. He reached down and grabbed a rock, throwing it about ten feet away to draw out whoever was hiding.

He didn't even need to see it to know what was waiting for him.

When the rock cracked against a tree trunk and he heard the telltale snarl of infected, he tightened his grip on his knife. The runner stumbled out of the cave with a shriek, jaw snapping angrily in the direction of the noise. Joel had run into his fair share of infected over the years. He knew the noise would have drawn the attention of any infected in the immediate vicinity, and when he only spotted one, he almost breathed a sigh of relief.

He took it down silently with a blade to the back of the head, then inspected the body. It looked fresh, the clothes mostly intact. The rest of the men joined him as they peered inside the cave, listening intently for any movement. When they heard none, they began to advance.

The cave wasn't very big but it was enough to house ten men. At least, that's the number of bodies they found, not a single trace of life left.

"Well, shit," Tommy muttered, kicking one of the mangled bodies with his boot. "Guess that hunch of yours was right."

It didn't exactly please Joel to know he was right, but at least it was the best possible scenario. The men were taken out by infected probably within the past week. He counted the bodies five times. Then recounted the backpacks and sleeping bags. Ten seemed to be the correct number. No one was missing, assuming the runner he had just killed was the only raider who had the misfortune of turning instead of dying right away.

They scavenged what they could from the dead bodies before trekking back to the horses.

"Keep your heads up. Don't mean there ain't anythin' else out here," Joel warned.

"The warmer weather must've thawed out some infected," Tommy mused next to him. Joel nodded.

"Probably should warn the others to keep their guard up the next few weeks," he replied. "Maybe add an extra body to the towers if we can."

Tommy nodded in agreement. The winters in the mountains were harsh but at least they saw a decrease in the undead.

"Now let's get the hell home," George said over his shoulder, the rest of the men mumbling in agreement. Joel ducked his chin to his chest to hide his relieved smile. Home.

To say you were happy to see him return was an understatement. It was closer to ten at night when you finally heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch.

"Told'ya I'd come back," he chuckled when you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

"I know," you mumbled into his shirt. His heart swelled in his chest and he closed his eyes, breathing deep the smell of your shampoo. You both had a lot of work to do, essentially starting over and building a relationship from the ground up, but it was moments like those that made him believe everything was going to work out.

"Are you hungry?"

"Nah, just need a shower," he said, dropping his pack by the door and kicking off his boots.

"So I take it you didn't find anything?" you asked, trailing up the stairs behind him. He walked into your bedroom to grab a fresh set of boxers and sweatpants.

"Actually, we did," he began, and your heart plummeted. He saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. "They were dead by the time we got there. 'Bout ten of 'em holed up in a cave. Infected got to 'em first."

"Oh, wow," you breathed, slowly sinking down onto the bed. "Well, at least you have peace of mind now, right?"

"Exactly," he said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the bathroom. "Be out in a minute."

You heard the water turn on and you glanced over at the red flannel of Joel's that you slept in the night before. Even though it was clean, it still smelled like him. You glanced at the closed bathroom door and bit your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you thought things over. The morning he left, you wished you had told him but you were too sleepy and you wanted it to be more meaningful. Then, when you woke up and his side of the bed was ice cold, you felt the dread begin to creep up your spine. What if something happened and you never told him how you felt?

Well, nothing happened. He was home now. Safe and sound. There was no reason not to tell him.

You heard the water turn off and you jumped up to grab his flannel and scurried out of the bedroom, across the hall to the other bathroom, shutting the door.

Joel emerged a few minutes later with his wet hair slicked back wearing just a pair of sweatpants, per usual. He tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and looked around. He noticed the closed door across the hall and assumed you were getting ready for bed so he slid between the sheets with a groan. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the mattress underneath him instead of the unforgiving forest floor before leaning over to grab his glasses and a book.

When you tiptoed back into the bedroom wearing only his flannel, he didn't notice at first. His focus was on the small print in front of him, blinking a few times and wondering if he needed stronger lenses when you cleared your throat. He glanced up and did a double take, his lips parting in shock when he saw his red flannel hugging your curves, the hem falling just below your ass.

You looked up at him and feigned surprise. "Oh, is this okay? I was cold-"

"Yes," he swallowed, immediately cutting you off, "it's okay."

You smiled and made a show of bending over to fix the sheets. Again, he swallowed tightly when he caught a glimpse of your black underwear and he felt his cock twitch. Before you turned around he made sure to be focused back on his book, although he was most definitely not absorbing any of the words on the page.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you peel back the sheets and with a sigh, you tucked yourself in. You glanced over at him, admiring his strong side profile and the way his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"I missed you," you whispered, and he dragged his eyes from his book to look at you.

"I missed you, too."

You caught the way his eyes flicked down to your chest where you purposely left two buttons undone so you exposed a little bit of cleavage.

"What are you reading?" you asked, and he laughed through his nose.

"I've got no fuckin' idea."

In a flash, his book was discarded and you were in his lap, your mouth hungrily devouring his as he carefully removed his glasses and tossed them to the side. He wrapped both arms around you and held you close to his bare chest, his tongue licking past your teeth eagerly.

"You look so fuckin' good in my clothes," he growled, sounding as if it pained him before biting at your jaw.

"I wore your shirts the whole time you were gone," you admitted, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. You bit your lip when you felt how hard he was already. "Almost the whole week. I slept in your bed and-"

"Fuck," Joel groaned, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly plunged his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and grabbed his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot. You could feel yourself tumbling, free-falling into the abyss with the unspoken words sitting heavy on your tongue, hoping Joel would be there to catch you.

"Wait," you gasped, pulling away, but only a little. Your forehead still rested against his as you both panted for air.

"I know, I'm sorry-" he was about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.

"Do you remember all those months ago when I asked how I fell in love with you?"

Joel nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you remember what you said?"

He tilted his head back, lips parted as he gazed up at you, wondering why you were asking him those questions in that moment.

"Yeah," he replied slowly, "I said you're gonna have to wait to find out."

You bit your lip and with a shaky hand, you traced one of the wrinkles next to his eyes. "Well, I found out."

His chest stilled, breath caught in his throat as he processed your words. His eyes roamed over your face, hoping and praying he wasn't misunderstanding. When you saw him nervously swallow, you smiled.

"I love you, Joel."

His eyebrows pinched together and before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, he pulled you down for another searing kiss. This time, he went slower. He savored every second, he memorized everything he possibly could about that moment because the way you made him feel hearing those words was unlike anything he ever experienced and he didn't want to take a single second for granted.

"I love you, too," he choked. He could feel you smile against his lips when he pressed his mouth against yours again. "Fuck, I love you so much," he mumbled, his hands falling to your hips, "I'd do anythin' for you."

Your mouth latched onto his throat and you dropped your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants. And once again, you felt his muscles stiffen and freeze.

For a moment, the self-doubt crept in. What if he didn't want to? Was he too tired? Was he not ready? Then his hand covered your wrist and you watched as he slowly dragged your hand up and down, showing you what he liked. Encouraging you to continue. So you did.

His head tipped back against the headboard with a sigh and he squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand and letting you take control. He wanted - no, needed - you to call the shots. You needed to take it as far as you wanted to take it.

When your fingers dipped below his waistband, he tensed.

When he finally felt your soft touch on his cock, he groaned.

It was better than he even remembered. His eyes were still closed as you worked him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spent just feeling him and not seeing him.

"I want you," you whispered in his ear, and his hips jolted as he whined against your shoulder. You wanted him.

When he opened his eyes, he looked absolutely wrecked. You could see that he was trying his best to hold back, trying his best to make sure you were comfortable, that you weren't feeling pressured, that you really wanted it.

But when you sweetly whispered please, Joel, he didn't hesitate. He flipped you onto your back and pulled hastily at the buttons of his flannel while he cemented his mouth against yours. Your hands drifted to his hair and back, pulling and scratching as you went while he finally flung open the shirt. He instantly latched his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.

"So beautiful," he mumbled against your chest. "Tell me again."

You smiled and peered down at him. "I love you."

He breathed a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. His rough hands slid down your stomach, thick fingers splayed wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.

You could hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dipped his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that made it hard to focus but when he slid a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpened. The house could have been on fire but you never would have known because all you could focus on was him.

He dragged his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he went. His lips puckered and sucked at your skin as he pet gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. When he pulled his hand out of your underwear, you made a frustrated little noise that made him smile. He popped his finger into his mouth and you watched, struggling to breathe, as his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned like he had just slipped into a warm bath after a hard day.

"God, I missed that," he whispered, and the look on his face made you actually believe him.

"Joel..." you breathed, plucking feebly at the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Lemme just make you come on my mouth first," and before you could respond, he was shimmying down between your legs and tugging off your panties. When you glanced down and saw how good it looked with his head between your legs, you relaxed and leaned back. How could you argue with that view?

"Oh," you sighed when his tongue first slid through your folds. You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, allowing your muscles to melt under his touch. His hands held your thighs open but he didn't need to bother. There was no possible way you would do anything to stop him. Not when he felt so good, taking his time and expertly lavishing your core with his tongue. And perhaps he was an expert. At least when it came to you, he had five years of experience to fall back on. He surely must have figured out what you liked in all that time.

Your breath was growing ragged and you could feel the heat creeping up your chest. He pressed the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees up towards your chest so he could devour every inch of you, eating messily at your cunt. You pulled your knees back and hooked your hands around each one, your thighs becoming too shaky to hold open with your own strength.

It was a combination of his lips wrapping around your clit and the deep groan that rumbled through his chest that made you come undone the first time. Instant relief flashed through your body and you released your knees, letting your legs fall limply onto the quilt while he eagerly cleaned you up with his tongue.

When he sensed it was too much, he began peppering kisses along your inner thighs, murmuring praise into your skin as he went. You opened your eyes and peered down at him, your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight. His mouth and beard were glistening with your slick, his own eyes remained shut as he mindlessly nipped and kissed your skin, but even from your angle you could see him rutting his hips into the mattress, looking for any amount of friction to relieve the ache.

You reached your arms out to him and he inched up but stopped at your stomach. He sighed and rested the side of his head against your belly, listening to your breath evening out as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. It took you by surprise that he wasn't immediately jumping at the chance to chase his own release when it was clear just a moment before he was dying for it. You glanced down at him and smiled when you saw the look on his face, simply content with just holding and being close to you. Carding your fingers through his curls, you heard him hum before pressing a gentle kiss against your stomach.

It might have been that moment when you realized he was right. What you had was special and rare. You could feel it in your bones, the way a look or touch sent a jolt right through you. The way you felt drawn to him, even from the very first day of your accident, you could sense something in him. You had no idea at the time what it was, but you were beginning to understand now.

"Joel?" you whispered, worried he might have somehow fallen asleep. Then you felt it. The first hot teardrop hit your skin and your heart clenched. "C'mere," you said, tugging at his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. And after his arms loosened and he unpeeled his wet face from your belly, you saw the anguish in his eyes. All watery and wide and guilt-ridden.

"I don't deserve you," he said softly, his voice breaking a bit as you cupped his jaw. "Never did and definitely don't now. Not after everything I've done. Don't deserve your forgiveness, let alone your love."

You shushed him and pressed your lips tenderly against his, your thumb wiping away his tears as they fell.

"Don't tell me who I can and cannot love," you said, taking his chin in your hand and giving it a firm shake, like you were punishing him. He chuckled thickly through the tears.

You pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. He groaned when you began to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you noticed with pride that his chest was rising and falling faster than usual while his hips ground into yours.

"Love you s'much," he almost sounded drunk, the feel of your mouth over his skin clouding his mind and mushing his words together.

"Yeah?" you asked before sucking a bruise where his jaw met his throat. "Then show me."

Joel kicked off his sweatpants and boxers with a grunt but when you went to remove his flannel from around your shoulders, he stopped you.

"Leave it on."

Your cheeks flared with heat at the way he looked at you and all you could do was nod and bite your lip.

It felt like time stood still when you first felt him enter you. Like nothing else in the world mattered outside of those four walls. He held your gaze and your fingers dug into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound was the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.

You could see it in his face again and you had a feeling you mirrored his look. It was too intense. Too overwhelming. So much had happened that led up to that moment: all the fear, sadness, laughter, arguments, long talks and shared traumas came crashing down at once. A tear slid down your cheek right when his hips came flush with yours and he leaned down to kiss it away.

"You okay?"

You nodded and wiped another tear away with the back of your hand.

"It's just a lot, y'know?" you sniffled, hoping he understood. And he did.

His eyes glistened and he smiled, his fingers brushing away a few stray pieces of hair from your face. "I know. We've come a long way."

"Yeah," you whispered, blinking back more tears. Your fingertips traced his bottom lip, your eyes flickering around his face, taking in every little crease and dimple. "Kiss me."

He did as you asked, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. Your fingers dug into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. His hand pushed his flannel back, exposing one of your shoulders while your head tilted back into the pillows, momentarily breaking away for air. You moaned softly when he began to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he dragged his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. When he sunk his teeth gently into your shoulder, he felt you clench around him and gasp.

How's that feel?

Do that again.

Tell me you love me.

I love you.

Those sweet, desperate whispers were shared, breathed into each other's mouths, every word dragged out, every touch deliberate and slow. Neither of you in the mood to rush a thing as your fingers tightly laced together next to your head.

His other hand skirted around your back and under his shirt, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it was even possible. He flexed his hips and you groaned when the tip of his cock hit a spot that had your entire body buzzing.

"Right there," you whimpered into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrated on the fire being stoked deep within you. Every one of his powerful thrusts was adding fuel to the flames. Your skin was slick with sweat and you began to regret keeping his flannel on.

"I know, baby. I remember," he whispered, tightening his grip on you. "Fuck, y'feel so good, I can't-"

"Don't stop! Please, Joel, more," you begged, tears welling up and spilling down your cheeks the closer and closer he pushed you to the edge. Your thighs tensed around his waist and his lips kissed the tears away and when you came, crying his name into his skin, he soothed you. He told you how much he loved you, how much he missed being so close to you, reminded you he was right there, that he had you and everything was okay.

Moments later, you felt his body tremble and his hips stutter. In a haze, you loosened your legs from around his waist. His lips captured yours frantically, fast puffs of exhale fanning over your cheek as he got more and more lost in chasing his climax. Your shaking fingers reached up to get tangled in his hair, ensuring his mouth remained firmly planted against your lips, muffling his groans and garbled versions of your name and I love yous, swallowing everything down until he yanked his hips away, spilling himself all over your stomach.

You both broke the kiss and looked down between your bodies, watching as each weak thrust painted your skin with more and more of his release until he finally stilled and shuddered.

After he finally forced himself to stand, he cleaned you up and slipped back into bed, one of his legs sticking out from underneath the covers, still slightly panting for air. You curled into his side, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him, his nose getting buried in your hair as you listened to each other's breaths even out. You quietly told him about a wound you stitched up at work all by yourself the day before and he told you how proud he was of you. You listened to him tell you a little more about his trip, how relieved he felt now that he confirmed with his own eyes Jackson was safe. At least, for the time being.

The last thing you remembered was him telling you how much he hated sleeping on the ground and how much he missed you while his knuckles soothingly dragged over your stomach but all you could think about was the warm glow that radiated from your skin and the delicious soreness between your legs as you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you heard birds singing outside your window. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Spring was coming. You always loved spring. Something about it made you hopeful and calm, and that morning was no exception.

You awoke still wrapped in his arms and his flannel, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, one of your legs slotted between his, enjoying the peace and quiet the morning brought.

"I thought you died," you admitted quietly once he woke, your fingertips tracing over the scar above his hip. "When you didn't come back that day, I was so worried. So scared my last words to you were something cruel and hurtful."

He hummed and said, "Oh darlin', I'm so sorry," then kissed the top of your head.

"Don't be. In a way, it helped me realize how much I care about you," you replied, lifting your chin from his chest to glance up at him. He always looked way too handsome in the morning. It was hardly fair. "Made me realize I couldn't live without you."

He grinned and rolled his shoulder, stretching out his sore muscles. "Well, if that's all it took, why didn't you say somethin' sooner?"

You giggled and looked back down at his scar, the smile slowly slipping from your face the longer you looked at the pale jagged edges marring his bronzed skin. "God, that day you didn't come back, though," you continued, your brow furrowed as you thought, "I had the worst pit in my stomach. Almost like I knew something was wrong, you know?"

He nodded and closed his eyes, letting you talk, completely at ease listening to your voice.

"It probably didn't help I had woken up that morning from the worst fucking nightmare."

"What nightmare?" he asked sleepily.

You chuckled when you thought about it.

"It's not really funny," you explained, rolling off of him and onto your back, pulling his flannel closed as you moved. "It had started out just like this, actually. It was morning, we were in bed and we were talking... about death?" you said the last part as if it were a question. "I was asking you if you believed in heaven and I told you I was afraid we were going to hell." His eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled his head to look at you, waiting for you to continue. You laughed again and shrugged. "I guess it felt like a premonition or something. Really freaked me out, it felt so real."

"What else?" he asked excitedly, sitting up. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"What else do you remember? From the nightmare?"

"Oh," you said, pushing yourself up so you were also sitting. You stared at the wall blankly as you thought about it. "You told me we aren't bad people, and even though I told you we had done bad things, I believed you. Then..." you felt your cheeks flush and he sat forward eagerly.

"Then what?" he urged, and when you looked at him again, any trace of playfulness was gone.

"Then... it got a little dirty but I woke up before anything happened. But I do remember you were on top of me and you said-"

"This is heaven right here?" he finished for you, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Yes! How did-"

"That was no nightmare, honey. That happened," he told you, his voice rising. He thought his heart was going to explode, it was racing so fast.

"What?" you whispered, but Joel was already jumping out of bed and tugging on his boxers.

"C'mon, get up! We gotta take you to see Nick!"

"Wait," you said, buttoning up his flannel as he flew around the room, grabbing new clothes for you both. "Joel, this was a month ago, what will going to see Nick do?"

"I-I-I don't know! But we gotta tell him. Maybe there's somethin' we can do if we know you're capable of -"

"Joel, sit down," you said, cutting him off. He froze, having just tugged on a shirt but his jeans were still left unzipped and unbuttoned. You stared at him until he took the few steps towards the bed and sat down on the edge. "I'll talk to Nick next time I'm at work, but I don't want to barge in there and take up his time. You know this is out of his area of expertise."

He looked disappointed but he knew you were right because he finally nodded in agreement and bit the inside of his cheek while he stared at the floor. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, drawing his attention back onto you.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," you said softly. "If my memories come back, then they come back. If they don't, they don't. All that matters is this... right?" you asked, inching closer to him and resting a hand on his thigh. He smiled and enveloped your hand in his.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, staring down at your conjoined hands for a moment. "You wanna go get some breakfast? Maybe talk 'bout it a bit more?"

"Sure," you replied, then leaned forward, kissing him tenderly before standing up. "I should probably shower, though. Last night got a little messy," you said, tossing him a wink over your shoulder. He smirked and watched your ass sway back and forth in his fucking clothes as you made your way to the bathroom. You turned around in the doorway, one hand on the knob, the other braced against the frame as you looked at him expectantly from across the room. "Aren't you coming?"

All the blood rushed directly between his legs and just like that, his excitement for you recalling a memory was replaced by a very different kind of excitement.

"Hell, yes," he said, standing up and shucking off his shirt as he followed you into the bathroom. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his mouth against yours, kicking the door shut behind him.

Three Months Later

"Can't believe I'm the one teachin' you how to shoot," Joel muttered in disbelief as you walked back from the line of trees where he had hammered a paper target into one of the trunks. "You were always a better shot than me. Almost better than Tommy, and he was in the goddamn Army."

You laughed and shook your head, still finding it difficult to believe that you ever shot a gun before. From what you remember, you were always afraid of guns growing up.

"Maybe I'm a natural, then."

Enough time had passed and the weather had gotten warm enough where you decided it would be beneficial to re-learn how to shoot. You didn't plan on going back to patrol, but in the world you lived in, it was an important skill to have.

You sat down next to Joel on the fallen tree trunk in the middle of a small field about two miles away from Jackson. He picked up each one of his guns and inspected them, making sure they were clean so there wouldn't be much kickback.

"Have any dreams lately?"

You sighed and shook your head. "Just the one about Ellie, and that was over a month ago."

When you woke up one morning from a dream that felt all too real, you shook Joel awake to tell him about it. It was a simple dream, but it felt intense. You had dreamed Ellie sat you and Joel down at the kitchen table, and full of nerves, explained that she was seeing someone. Someone she cared about deeply. You seemed to catch on quicker than Joel because the conversation lead to where Ellie had to point blank explain to him that she was dating another girl. He seemed surprised but not overly shocked, and when he shrugged it off and still maintained that his only concern was her partner treating her right, her face broke out into a huge smile.

After he confirmed it was a memory, you agreed to see Nick. He didn't end up having much insight on what spurred your sudden recollection that day, just as you expected. But much to your surprise, Joel was perfectly calm. In fact, he made a point of thanking Nick and you even saw him smile at the other man.

And it wasn't just Nick you noticed his demeanor changing toward, either. When kids playing in the street bumped into him, he laughed and waved them off. When Jesse proposed to his girlfriend, Joel was one of the first in line to give him a hearty handshake and wished them well.

You weren't sure if his behavior changed because you were so revolted by it in the beginning, or if he was just happier in general, but you didn't complain.

"Alright, so which one d'you think we're gonna use from this distance?" he asked after he showed you his revolver and then his rifle, explaining the difference between each: how they handled, when to use them, when not to use them, and then finally, how to load and unload them.

You gave him a blank look. "The rifle, Joel. I'm not a complete idiot. I've seen movies."

He grinned and holstered his revolver.

"Good girl. Beauty and brains," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't start."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Don't start flirting with me. You'll distract me and I want to take this seriously."

"I ain't flirtin' with you."

"Yes, you are!"

He laughed heartily at your frustrated little pout. "Can you blame me? You're so goddamn cute."

"Joel..." you whined, and he held up both hands in defeat before picking up the rifle.

"Alright, alright. Lemme shoot off a few rounds and you watch my form, okay? Watch my shoulders and where my hands go."

"Okay."

You observed him as he took aim at the target, nearly hitting the bullseye but not quite.

"You wanna give it a shot?"

"Pun intended?"

He grinned and held out the rifle, so you grabbed it and sunk down to one knee, resting your elbows on the tree trunk as you tried to imitate his posture.

"Like this?"

"Mhm," he said, "now take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger nice 'n slow."

Doing as you were told, you inhaled and blinked a few times, making sure your vision was clear and your eye was on the prize. Pursing your lips, you slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger - only to miss hitting the target entirely.

"Shit," you grumbled, sitting back on your heels.

"You got spooked by the kickback," Joel said, "try again, but this time try not to flinch."

You shouldered the rifle and took aim, once again taking a deep breath and focusing on the little yellow circle in the middle of the target. When you fired off your second round, doing your best not to flinch, you clipped the edge of the paper, but you were no where near the center.

"Goddamnit!" you yelled angrily. Joel chuckled and crouched behind you.

"Here. Lemme help you."

He wrapped his arms around yours and pressed his chest against your back, his hands coming to rest on top of yours as he made some minuscule adjustments to your posture.

"Y'gotta be gentle, see?" he whispered in your ear. Your eyelids fluttered but you managed to nod. "Gotta be patient. Don't let her scare you. Think of her as an extension of you. Like another arm."

"Her?" you teased.

He chuckled, his breath puffing against the back of your neck. "Yeah. Her. I'm respectful and careful with all my girls."

"All?" you repeated, leaning into him a bit. "How many are there?"

"Oh, tons," he said, making you giggle. "But if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite."

"A favorite over a bunch of guns? I'm so flattered."

"Hey, now. Didn't you just say you wanted to take this seriously? C'mon, focus up," and you knew he was right so you straightened up and pressed your eye against the scope once again.

Joel stayed behind you, his hands on your shoulders to help stabilize your upper body as you squeezed off shot after shot. His advice helped a little, you were at least hitting the paper, but you weren't getting anywhere near his shots from earlier. He could see you were growing frustrated so when you ran out of bullets, he took the rifle and told you to take a break while he reloaded.

"It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna take a bit to get used to it."

You sighed and slumped forward on the tree trunk. "Yeah, I guess," you mumbled.

For the next twenty minutes, Joel coached you while you struggled to remember all his advice at once. Keep your shoulders loose. Don't flinch. Follow through. Breathe. When you pulled the last round into the chamber and took aim, you expected it to go like all the others so you stopped worrying about it and just pulled the trigger.

"Holy shit, you did it!" Joel exclaimed excitedly. You hadn't even bothered to look, so you quickly brought the scope back up to your face. When you saw the small little circle burning a hole through the paper, nearly dead center, you squealed and quickly placed the rifle against the tree so you could jump into Joel's arms. He wrapped his arms around your ribs and spun you around while you giggled into his neck.

"Told you," he said with a wide grin after he put you back down. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him into you, crashing your lips together, taking him by surprise. He stumbled forward but wrapped a hand around the back of your neck just as you lost your own footing and fell onto the grass, dragging him down with you.

You laughed against his mouth, still peppering kisses all over his face. He braced both arms on either side of you, elbows digging into the warm grass, smile permanently stretching across his cheeks as he soaked up your affection.

When your laughter died down, you pulled away to gaze up at him, your fingers playing with the dark curls at the base of his neck. The sun was shining over the field and onto his tanned skin, making his sparkling brown eyes look like the color of gold. It took your breath away.

"You're so handsome," you whispered in awe, your fingers leaving his hair in favor of stroking the graying stubble dusting his cheeks. He blushed and shook his head, but before he could protest, you spoke again. "I love you so much, Joel. Sometimes it makes me sad to think we probably wouldn't have ever known each other if the world didn't end."

His eyes softened and he gave you a small smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'll always find you. In every life, in every universe. You've got a piece of me," he tapped your chest lightly, "I don't make the rules."

You laughed and laced your fingers together with his. "Like fate?"

He shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. I already told you, sweetheart. We're meant to be together."

You pulled him down for another kiss, this one more gentle. More loving. More intimate. For the hundredth time, you mentally berated yourself for wasting so much time after your accident when you could have been with him like this, being loved and adored and cherished all along. Instead, you both had been searching endlessly for some version of yourself that you weren't sure you would ever find again. But then you realized if you never did, that was okay. Because you got to fall in love with each other all over again, and how many people get to say that?

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[blueywrites]

baby can we smoke?

eddie munson x ditsy!fem!reader you're the last person eddie expects to leave a note in his locker, but he won't regret meeting you out by the picnic table.

2.8k

cw: 18+. innocent reader (not minor-coded), corruption kink, weed usage, allusions to smut while high, no y/n, no physical descriptions.

Another 'naughty nights' ask that got a bit lengthy (check out the original ask here). I had fun writing from this perspective! Should I continue this with a part two? 👀 Let me know what you think.

enjoy xx

Eddie finds the note in his locker right before lunch. It's written on a quarter of a math worksheet, ripped carefully at the folds and decorated with little doodles of hearts and clouds and shooting stars drawn in sparkly purple pen. That's not the only note in there, but it’s the only one that has him curious, ‘cause it’s from you.

He stops by your lunch table just before the final bell, letting his eyes rove over you while you aren’t paying attention. You’re wearing your typical attire: a fuzzy, pastel-colored sweater, baggy and soft-looking like cotton candy, paired with a little pleated skirt and that heart locket he always sees hanging from your neck in the class you share. He hadn’t pegged you as the type of girl to smoke, and it isn’t just because of the way you look since his clientele is diverse, dips into almost every pocket of the high school social ecosystem. It’s more the way you carry yourself— you seem to kind of float through life, let it bob you about without any resistance or, like, awareness, even? Like, you hum to yourself while you take notes; you don’t talk a ton, but when you do, you’ll talk to literally anybody who’s in proximity to you, including the teachers; and you’re always either giggling or smiling or, sometimes, wearing a look of vague confusion where your glossed lips will hang open, parted in a little ‘o’ like with all your concentration focused on trying to understand something, you have nothing left over to control your face.

Eddie doesn’t wanna call you dumb because that’d make him feel like an asshole, but you just seem so… innocent to be asking him to teach you how to smoke weed. It briefly crosses his mind that someone might just be trying to fuck with him and you hadn’t actually written the note, but when you finally notice him nearby, your wispy-lashed eyes widen eagerly like you’d been expecting him. 

“Yeah, so,” you say, as if continuing a conversation you’d already been having with him, “I really wanna get high, and Susie said you’re the one who sells weed, but I just don’t know how to smoke. I’ve never done it before, not even, like, cigarettes or anything.”

You seem oblivious to the way several heads at the tables around yours swing around to stare, easily overhearing since you’re not making any effort to lower your voice. Eddie merely quirks a brow at them, and when they make eye contact with him, they turn back around. “So,” you go on, “I’d just need you to help me, show me how to smoke and stuff. Would that be okay?”

Eddie debates it for just a moment before relenting with a nod. He tells you to meet him after school at the picnic table behind the athletic fields and you agree right away, smiling up at him with an expression of such utter awe and glee that he has to stop himself from snorting in amusement. It’s funny, but it’s also kind of cute, too— Eddie doesn’t remember the last time someone was so excited at the idea of receiving his help, and your enthusiasm is endearing.

It’s simply endearing all the way up until he has you sitting facing him on the picnic bench, kicking your little feet idly while you straddle it, staring at him with that little ‘o’ face of concentration as he deftly grinds the bud. You plant your hands between your spread legs, leaning forward and watching with rapt fascination as he begins to pack the green into the paper. Your bare knees press against the inside of his, soft and warm through the rips in his jeans; his eyes flick to the hem of your skirt, the way it’s barely long enough to poke out from the pooling of sweater fabric at your lap, and he adds a bonus pinch or two to the joint. It’s fat when he finishes rolling, pinching it between two callused fingers as he tilts to the side and tugs his zippo from his pocket. The lighter draws your gaze like a fluttering moth, your attention snared by the flickering flame, and Eddie finds himself staring at you for a moment before he blinks his fascination away.

“Okay.” Eddie speaks once the paper catches, and your eyes dart from the smoldering tip to his face, expectant and waiting. You’re close enough that he can see where your mascara has flaked a little onto your lids, and from this distance, your helplessness— how dependent you are on him, how sweet and open and utterly trusting you look— elicits a pang low in his belly. He swallows. “So, you’re gonna wanna keep the smoke in your mouth first, and then inhale. Not too deep though, or else you’ll cough it all out and waste it. Here, I’ll show you.” 

Eddie watches you watch him as his lips wrap around the end of the joint and he pulls from it, fairly shallowly compared to what he’d usually do. He drops his hand so you can see, lets his cheeks puff out so you won’t miss the way he’s collecting the smoke. 

And that look on your face is so entranced, Eddie feels suddenly powerful. His chest expands on the inhale, and he smirks at you, closed-mouthed and crooked as your eyes widen at how long he holds it before he lets it billow from his nose like a dragon. That delights you, and the rest of the smoke escapes Eddie’s mouth on a raspy chuckle at how simple it is to please you.

“It’s that easy?” you ask as he waves the lingering smoke away, clearing the space between you.

“‘S that easy, sweetheart,” Eddie confirms. And he finds it curious when you bite your lip, dragging your teeth along the gloss there in such a way that it has him wondering how sticky it must feel. “You ready to give it a try?”

You nod, head bouncing like a dashboard bobblehead, but when Eddie maneuvers the joint in his fingers and holds out the end for you to take, you hesitate, fidgeting and pulling at your sweater sleeves so they cover your fingers. 

“You want me to hold it for you?” Eddie guesses, and you nod again, meeting his gaze with a sweet little grateful smile that has his belly panging again, stirring with the barest amount of low, liquid heat. He reaches out, letting his hand hover at the side of your face, hesitating as he looks to you. “Can I—?”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice small and wispy in a way that isn’t helping with those stirrings he’s feeling. And your cheek is so smooth when he cups it in his hand, using the light grip to guide your face up and hold you steady for him as he brings the joint to your pouty lips. They brush Eddie’s thumb when they part for him to place the joint between them, sticking your flesh to his as you hesitantly pull the smoke into your mouth. 

“That’s it,” he rasps, merely wanting to encourage you, but you just won’t stop staring at him like that as he feeds you the hit. Like, shit, can you really blame him when the stirring creeps lower, down from his belly into his groin? Your cheeks puff up with smoke, and he can almost feel what it’d be like to see the outline of his dickhead poking out of one— all soft and slick inside, plush skin stretched tight around his—

Your hands are flapping in the air between you like you’re trying not to grab onto him, and when Eddie notices the distressed pinch between your brows, he pulls the joint hastily from between your lips. You look like a fucking chipmunk, your cheeks are so full, and Eddie realizes that as he’d zoned out thinking about his cock in your mouth, you just kept sucking and sucking ‘til you literally couldn’t anymore. 

Quickly, Eddie clutches the joint in his teeth to free his hands, gently cupping your full cheeks; sympathetic, patronizing, he says through it, “You didn’t have to— s’too much, honey, just blow a little out, okay?” 

Smoke eeks out from your pursed lips in a steady stream until he pats your face with his fingertips. “Okay, that’s enough,” he says hurriedly, lest you release the entire hit. Obedient to a fault, you are, and damn him for where his mind wanders with that information. “Now, slowly—” he tips his chin, widening his eyes for emphasis, “slowly breathe it in. Take it nice and easy.”

You do as he says, and his shoulders nearly sag with relief when you do it successfully. “Okay, hold it for a few,” he coaxes, dropping his hands and absentmindedly plucking the joint from between his teeth, watching you closely for any signs of difficulty. When you remain placid, a proud grin spreads over his face, and as the seconds tick on, you grow mutually excited, your lips pressed tight and your eyes all lit up as you look back at him. Pretty, he thinks, and then again when you finally let the breath go and smile radiantly.

“I did it!” you exclaim, drumming your sleeved hands on your thighs excitedly as you giggle.

“You did,” Eddie replies, warm and fond at the sight of your happiness and the part he played in it. He takes another hit of his own— quicker but deeper than his first— and inclines his head once he’s released it, flashing his brows encouragingly at you. “You wanna try it again?”

“Definitely,” you say, tipping your face up and leaning in expectantly. Your scent washes over him, something fruity maybe, and Eddie has to try hard not to lean further forward and drag his tongue across your lips, to pry them open and see if the inside of your mouth tastes as sweet as you smell. 

For a good while, you and Eddie trade hits back and forth, one for you for every two of his until the whites of your eyes go pink and your body loosens, unraveling upon the picnic table. You end up in a deep lean against the tabletop, your head propped in your hand, your breast squished against the wooden edge in such a way that even in that fuzzy near-shapeless sweater, the sight tantalizes him. Eddie’s feeling as high as you look, mirroring your posture with his knees spread wide, engulfing your shorter thighs in a dark frame of denim. He’s high enough that he doesn’t have that typical discomfort pinching in his chest at the silence between you, doesn’t feel the need to fill it by talking about whatever shit pops into his head. He’s consumed instead with sensation— the breeze ruffling his frizzy curls, tickling him with broken strands along his hairline; the dull crunch of old, nearly-rotted leaves under his sneakers; the hollow thrum of his pulse in his ears and the flow of living blood through his veins, cycling with each slow, rhythmic throb of his heart. And as he looks across at you— sweet, soft, sensual you — Eddie finds that since the high has his nerves all alight, he wants to touch your skin again, see how it feels now under his sensitized fingers.

The weed-haze brings with it a certain fond, almost nostalgic influence. It’s one that breaks down barriers, creates closeness where there wasn’t any, or magnifies it where there was. Your bodies are certainly closer now, sagging inward toward one another as you laze in mutual drug-induced comfort. Eddie’s used to feeling that influence, but you’re not, so when he reaches out and runs his finger down the back of your hand, you let out a small gasp at the contact. Startled, he jerks his dipping chin upright, bloodshot eyes darting to your face. But he finds no upset there, only surprise and shy pleasure painted across your features. So he plucks your hand from your lap, tugging it gently over to him and letting it rest on his thigh so he can satisfy his fascination with the texture of your skin. Your fingers twitch a little as he laces them with his, slowly dragging his fingertips through the gaps and then down your palm to your wrist. When his thumb comes back up to trace the outside of yours, you nudge into his touch, relaxing into the sensation with a languid sigh.

“Does it feel nice? The high,” he clarifies when you blink at him, droopy-lidded and wearing your little ‘o’ face. He keeps tracing along the valley of your thumb, dipping down and then back up along your index finger, enjoying the tickle of your skin against his calluses.

“Mm-hmm.” You smile, your eyes dropping to your joined hands. “Feels really nice. Kinda floaty, like my head’s not as heavy anymore.”

Eddie crooks a smile, humming his agreement. Lax and pliant, you let him continue to play with your fingers, and he’s suddenly hit with a potent impulsive urge to bring your limp hand to his mouth and nibble your fingertips, lick the smooth polish of your painted nails, suck your pinkie into his mouth and tease your skin with his tongue to see what sound you’d make. He doesn’t do that. But he does let his fingers snake under the sleeve of your fuzzy sweater, let them creep along your forearm up to the crease of your inner elbow. He drags his thumb in slow circles there, crawling around and around until he finds what he’s looking for: a sign that you feel the same stirring in your belly that he feels, revealed by the slightest whisper of a moan his touch pulls from your lips.

Encouraged, Eddie’s hands travel then— tugging out of your sleeve to smooth up your arm and over the dip of your shoulder; palming your neck, dragging up to your ear to cup around the base of your skull; ghosting across your ribcage and down to your hip; then sneaking just beneath the pleats of your tiny skirt, flexing against the hidden skin there. All the while, that liquid heat sloshes around in his belly, spreading low between his hips, dripping down to tighten in his balls and fill out his stiffening cock.

He doesn’t know exactly how it happens, but eventually, you end up laid out on the rough wood bench, your legs dangling to either side of his head as he kneels before you, nosing at the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your sigh is a shuddery, eager thing when his teeth graze the lacy edge of your cotton panties, which to his delight are swallowed up a little by the plump of your pussy lips. “Can I take these off?” Eddie asks, forcedly casual and only slightly gritty as he tries to bite back his own rabid eagerness lest he scare you off with it. But you’re quick to say yes, so quick that it tells him you want this just as much as he does, and maybe even more, though he can scarcely believe that. 

The thought makes him cocky. He eases your panties down, deliberately slow to see if you’ll get impatient. Sure enough, you wiggle your hips, whining quietly to try to hurry him; the power your neediness gives him surges with his arousal as he feels just how damp the fabric is when he balls it in his fist. Hastily, he tucks your panties into his back pocket, his eyes locked on that sweet, swollen place between your legs. 

 "Aw, look’it her,” he croons, splaying his long fingers against your inner thighs to spread you more open for him. “Can't believe you been hiding her all this time under these little skirts you wear.” 

If you’re cute, your pussy is adorable— plump like a peach, wet and ripe and glistening as he presses into your slit with his thumbs and pulls your lips apart to see more of her. She yields easily for him, splitting with a sticky click to reveal your quivering hole and your fat clit already peeking coyly from its hood. “Oh, she's so pretty, baby,” Eddie praises, his mouth watering and his cock jerking in his tight jeans, stiffening further against his zipper. “And she’s so wet already. Bet I can make 'er spit for me." 

You coo, and he lifts his head to see you biting your lip through an eager grin. "Yeah? You excited for me to touch you?" Eddie chuckles, equally fond and condescending. "Aren’t you just a sweet little thing."

“R’you gonna eat my pussy, Eddie?” you ask, and the question is so dirty but your voice sounds so goddamn innocent that he can’t help but chuckle again, this time in disbelief. 

“Yeah, baby,” he rasps, palming himself quickly over his jeans to try to bring relief because his dick is suddenly so fucking hard it aches. “I’m gonna eat your pussy.”

#blueywrites #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine

[its-avalon-08]

Hello! Can I req ln4 x reader where they are secretly married, but the entire world just know they're bestfriend. One day an interviewer ask if they are a thing and they say they're married but sarcastically (like Chris Evans and Elizabeth Olsen on Ellen show) and in the end they decided to just reveal it. Thank you!!

🗣️avaspeaks: i love this request so much!!! and i thoroughly enjoyed writing this one, and i hope i did it justice!

we decided to break the internet (ln4)

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡

introduction - lando and y/n were practically inseparable since childhood. building sandcastle empires on the beach, trading pokémon cards at recess, navigating the awkwardness of middle school together - they'd seen it all. what neither quite admitted, not even to themselves, was the secret crush simmering beneath the surface of their friendship. every time lando tried to impress a girl with his skateboard tricks, y/n would "accidentally" trip him mid-grind. and whenever y/n had a date, lando would "forget" to return her favorite dress, the one that made her feel invincible. their sabotage was childish, sure, but it stemmed from a fear of losing the other entirely. one summer night, sprawled on the hood of lando's beat-up car, gazing at a sky exploding with stars, something shifted. maybe it was the whispered secrets shared, or the way their laughter mingled with the chirping crickets. in that moment, childhood friendship flickered, ignited by a spark of something deeper, a love waiting to prosper.

the air crackled with anticipation as lando norris and a stunning y/n settled into the interview chairs. formula one fans adored their playful dynamic, convinced they were just best friends. little did anyone know, they'd been secretly married for over a year and a half.

"so," the interviewer began, a sly smile on his face, "the fans are curious. is there anything going on between you two, romantically?"

lando shot y/n a mock glare. "absolutely! infact we're married!!!," he deadpanned, throwing his head back in exaggerated shock.

the room froze. cameras flashed. y/n, stifling a laugh, gasped dramatically. "married and absolutely smitten with eachother! lando, haven't you told them about movie night and all the crying over sappy rom-coms?"

the audience erupted in gasps and whispers. even the other drivers, strategically placed in the back row, looked bewildered. carlos, oscar,max,charles,daniel,alex and george laughed silently into their hands.

lando, playing along, clutched his chest. "oh no, you can't tell them about that! what will the neighbors think of all the late-night screaming about popcorn refills?"

y/n doubled over, tears welling up (from laughter, not the fake movie marathons). "and the screaming matches over who gets the last slice of pizza? lando, you monster!"

the room buzzed with confusion. were they…? weren't they…?

the interviewer, clearly flustered, stammered, "wait, so… you're saying you have movie nights and… screaming matches?"

lando winked at the camera. "the usual newlywed stuff, you know?"

y/n, wiping a fake tear, added, "don't even get me started on the scooter races in the paddock."

the room descended into chaos. reporters scribbled furiously, phones buzzed, and drivers peeked over their chairs, jaws slack.

lando, barely able to hold back a real laugh, reached for y/n's hand. "alright, alright," he conceded, "we might be exaggerating a tad. movie nights are definitely a thing, though. y/n's a terror with the remote."

y/n swatted him playfully. "hey! at least i let you pick the action movies sometimes."

suddenly, y/n did something unexpected. with a flourish, she turned her hand, revealing a simple gold band with a sparkling diamond. the room fell silent.

"oh by the way we've actually married for about two years now," y/n raised an eyebrow at lando, a wide, mischievous grin spreading across her face. "forgot to mention that detail, did you?"

lando, speechless for once, could only stare at the ring, then back at the stunned faces around him. the dam broke. laughter, loud and genuine, erupted from them both. the tension in the room evaporated, replaced by a mixture of shock, amusement, and a touch of awe.

as the interview wrapped up, the secret was out. lando and y/n, f1's favorite "best friends," were husband and wife. the post-interview scrum was a whirlwind. questions flew, cameras flashed in their faces, and congratulations poured in. through it all, lando and y/n stuck together, their laughter echoing through the room, a testament to their love and their ability to surprise everyone, even the f1 world.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more! thanks for reading!

leave a like, leave a comment!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

#lando norris #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #ln4 #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #ln4 x female reader #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x oc #charles lecrelc #carlos sainz #carlando #landoscar #max verstappen #oscar piastri #george russell #alex albon #formula 1 #f1 imagine #formula one #y/n #mclaren

[canthelpit0]

Intimate

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k +

In wich: matt has a borderline obsession with cock warming

Warnings: smut, cock warming, p in v, use of y/n, 1st pov, praise kink, name calling (slut), pet names, unprotected, creampie

(A/N: English is not my first language! Also this song has like barely anything to do w the plot, I just feel like that’s the vibe. This is sort of like a blurb. Hope you guys like it <3)

One of the considerably weird things Matt is into is: cock warming.

I clench at the thought trying to focus on my history homework.

I’ve known Matt for practically all my life. We’ve always been close and no conversation between us was ever awkward.

Matt didn’t seem like the type to be into that sort of stuff. But one day, when, we were hanging out and cuddling like we were normally, I felt a hardness at my butt.

When I turned back to look at him he was blushing. Matt had his arms wrapped around my waist, spooning me.

After I asked him what that is, he responded with a question. “Can I..?” He trailed off and I wasn’t catching on to his train of thought.

“What? you want to fuck?” I huff rolling my eyes…not that I would be against it.

“No.” He said defensively squeezing my sides. “Can I just put it in?” Matt asked shyly.

I paused, But eventually complied. With the duvet being over us it shouldn’t be too awkward. He shuffled out of his sweatpants and pulled mine down too.

And before I knew it his finger was inside of me and I was wet.

After a few moments I felt the head of his dick press against me before feeling his entire length slide into me.

I never thought he’d be into that, but even further, I didn’t think that I’d like it too.

I shift feeling the angle change.

“Y/n/n, can you stop moving.” Matt huffs, his words sounding passive aggressive. He puts one of his hands on my hips to prevent as much movement as possible, his other hand still clutching his phone.

I clench again at the tone of his voice, slamming my pen down.

Ever since that day, when this first started off, I started to sit on him more often. Whether it was while we were cuddling or just mindlessly hanging out. We’re not necessarily friends with benefits tho.

I guess he just likes the feeling… but so do I.

It was bad, like we hung out so much Chris and Nick started to make joking remarks about it.

About us hanging out so much that is, not the… whatever we’re doing.

Like it was so bad that practically every time we were alone somewhere private, I was probably sitting on his dick.

It feels so intimate and good, and if we still have time after, he’ll rail me.

But I’m saying that when we’re at home doing homework, I’m sitting on his lap. Or when cuddling or sleepovers. Or even when we go get fast food to eat in the parking lot at night. I’ll climb over the middle console and sit down on it.

I was never a skirt person, but I started to wear skirts more often just for the easier access.

I could go hours just calmly sitting on it.

But sometimes after a while I would get frustrated.

I try to grind into him, Matt still holding me in place as much as he can.

“What? You wanna get yourself off on my dick?” He huffs. His grip on my hip gets harder making me whine, while his other hand still holds his phone.

He’d been scrolling through TikTok and various other social media while I was trying to get all of my homework done.

And it’s been probably over an hour now and I was getting frustrated from all the homework. doing math first was definitely a mistake.

And while on a normal day I would be fine with the intimacy and wouldn’t be trying to get myself off, the homework today was frustrating. And since Matt was already balls deep inside of me, I might as well.

He leans over putting his phone on my desk. With the movement his hand on my hip loosens giving me the opportunity to start to slightly ride him.

“Fuck-“ i sigh. I lean forward on my arms, trying to get as much friction as I can, both on my sweet spot and also my clit.

I hear Matt’s low groan. And suddenly his hands are on my hips again, holding me in place.

“Y/n I swear, i will make you cum over and over again until you’re seeing fucking stars if you don’t fucking stop right now and go back to your homework.”

His tone is authoritative and so hot. Why was he saying that like it would be such a bad thing anyway.

“Matt please.” I whine.

Sometimes Matt would get frustrated and fuck me while I wasn’t even paying him any mind, and sometimes it was the other way around.

He huffs letting go of my hips. Matt leans back as he just watched me and my every move.

I let out a shaky breath once again, leaning forward more to lift myself better.

“Fucking slut, getting yourself off on your best friends dick.” He rolls his eyes in exasperation.

His hands go to my waist, assisting my movements now instead of stopping me.

“If you cum I’m still gonna Make you warm me.” He warns his tone assertive.

Matt holds me in place for a few seconds and scoots the chair back. I sigh leaning forward, using my forearms to prop me up, before starting to ride him again.

His eyes were heavy lidded, his mouth dropped in a silent moan while he watches me.

He somehow seemed way less sensitive than me. But I can literally feel the knot starting to tie In My stomach just waiting to snap.

By this point I was panting and Matt was letting out some heavy breaths too.

“Fuck- Matt, Matt” I whine his name my voice pitching higher as i keep getting closer.

“You close baby?” He breaths out keeping his hands on my hips for stability.

I let out a sharp breath letting my head drop forward as I keep up the angle and speed up in order to reach my climax faster.

“Yeah.” One of my hands go down to my clit to rub it, resulting in my other arm having to hold me up alone.

“Come then.” He demands, his voice sounding cocky. I can hear him breathe heavily and bite his lip to keep quiet.

With his hands tightening on my hips, I feel the knot in my stomach snap.

I let out a loud moan, piercing through the, otherwise, mostly quiet room.

I sit down again my pussy convulsing around his cock.

I sigh, trying to calm down again. Matt’s hands rub my sides, holding my back to his chest and mumbling sweet nothings into my ear.

“You good?” He asks after I mildly catch my breath. I lean more into him, my eyes fluttering closed as I mumble an agreement.

“You gonna go back to your homework now, or…?” He trails off waiting for me to answer.

“No” I breathe out and slightly look over my shoulder to make eye contact with him.

He lets his huge grin take over his features. He picks me up gently, making me wince, to wich he whispers encouraging praises into my ear.

My back makes contact with my bed. I sigh at the feeling of the soft sheets under me. And I watch as Matt hurriedly takes off his shirt.

I was still wearing my mini skirt and a long sleeve shirt, but Matt didn’t look like he was going to take them off. The access was easy, so really, why do the extra work.

Matt rubs my lower stomach, while his other hand holds his dick. He glides it up my folds before slipping it back into me. I whine at the feeling throwing my head back into the mattress.

I’m still sensitive from my previous orgasm and also from the hour of cock warming’s

It wasn’t like he wasn’t sensitive too. I could see him physically hold back from releasing right then and there.

Our eyes stay locked while he starts to rock his hips against me. I can feel him hit that spot in me that makes pure euphoria shoot through my entire body.

Despite not being labeled, it always felt so intimate with Matt.

Maybe it was because most of the time it was literally just cock warming and nothing else. But sometimes, when it did come to the actual intercourse - penetration type of thing, it still felt intimate.

“So good for me baby.” He breaths out. Our eyes stay locked, my mouth dropped in quiet moans.

“Fuck- you like being filled?” He chuckles. His hand stays on my lower abdomen, pressing down slightly to feel himself.

I close my eyes briefly trying to respond, but the way his hips snap into me, and the way he still manages to make this feel sensual, has my head fuzzy.

“Fuck..” Matt breaths out his eyes staying locked on my face. “Too fucked out to answer now?”

All I can do is whine out his name and moan loudly, and he takes pride in that. I know he does. I can see it in his eyes.

“You wanna be fucking full all the time, don’t you baby?” Matt taunts, somehow speeding up even more.

I clench around him my legs going stiff at the constant and heavy stimulation.

Matt notices and readjusts, picking up my legs further so they’re on his shoulders before he picks up pace again.

“Close” I whine out, I can feel the knot in my stomach getting tighter by the second, threatening to snap anytime now.

“Good girl” he hums. Matt’s fingers find their way towards my clit as he starts to vigorously rub it.

“Oh god-“ I moan loudly throwing my head back, my eyes shutting tightly as I try not to get overwhelmed, even tho just already am.

“Eyes on me.” Matt speaks lowly also panting. His movements pick up pace getting more rough and messy, indicating that he’s close too.

My eyes snap open, immediately meeting his. And as soon as they do, I feel my body convulse, my orgasm washing over me like a wave. But despite that, I try to keep my eyes on Matt as best as I can.

“So pretty.” He breathes out harshly and before either of us know it, he gives me one last thrust and fills me up.

I pant, trying to catch my breath. I feel a thin layer of sweat coat my skin, but despite that, I love this feeling.

This post orgasmic state was sending me into almost as much euphoria as the sex itself.

I watch through lazy, heavy-lidded eyes as Matt sits up straighter, moving my legs from off of his shoulders.

“You wanna clean up or sleep like this sweetheart?” He asks tilting his head. Matt was trying to contain a goofy smile.

“Just..” I trail off and let out a breath. Damn I didn’t realize just how out of breath I am.

“Just lay down.” I breathe out.

He licks his lips his eyes wandering from my face to my body and how it’s still clothed.

“You wanna sleep with clothes, or…” he trails off. Matt’s eyes come to meet mine again with a playful glint.

“Matt, I don’t care” I say exasperated.

“I wanna cuddle?” He says like I said we wouldn’t. I huff a slight laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation at hand.

Matt huffs trying and failing to hold back a smile. He gently and slowly pulls out in order to not hurt me. But I still wince from the over stimulation.

He pulls the skirt back down and than reaches for the zipper. He pulls the skirt off tossing it to the floor carelessly.

He then reaches for my long sleeve shirt. I sit up slightly so he can take that, and my bra also off.

Now being nude under him, he looks satisfied. He hums in approval and wordlessly lays down next to me, before I feel his arms go around my waist.

“You think you can warm me, baby?” He whisper sweetly into my ear. I feel a shiver run down my spine from his tone of voice. My eyes shut I take in his silk like words.

“Corse.” I breathe out pushing my hips back into him to tease him.

Matt chuckles lowly. I feel his length slide through my folds. Still being soaked in our combined juices, it was fairly easy for him to slip back in, not that it didn’t make me moan.

I felt way too sensitive, but like hell would I ever say no to this.

Matt chuckles at the low moan I let out. He has his arm spread out so I can lay on it his other arm around my waist. “You do like being full?” He asks in fake shock.

“You were the one that started this tho?” I question right back not moving at all. Simply keeping my eyes closed and enjoying the closeness and intimacy.

“Touché.”

Masterlist

A /N: sorry for being gone for so long guys. Schools been overwhelming. But yeah, I hope you guys liked this. Requests and asks are open & feedback is always appreciated 💕

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun

#Spotify #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for jerking off while my partner sleeps

Hey, tunglr. I have a problem. Well it's not a problem for me personally but other ppl think it's weird.

I, 20sm, have a partner 20snb and we sleep in the same bed. it's awesome. but sometimes i get kinda horny for no reason so i just jork my shit while they're sleeping next to me.

I was talking to my ex boyfriend about stuff (he recently moved in with his own boyfriend and was curious to what it's like living with ur partner) and i mentioned it offhandedly and he got super confused about it and kept questioning me about it

I was like "dude i don't ask if you play trombone with ur weewee at night why are you pushing this" and he was like "well does your partner know about that?"

I was like "no not really but we've had sex. they have seen my entire ass and bals and dick. why would they be grossed out" and he said "because you're jerking off to them sleeping."

First of all. No I'm not. Second of all. If I did. Who give a shit? They're hot. They Have Jorked My Hog. I Am Not Sneaky About It.

Besides we've done weirder stuff that im not gonna get into.

So.

Aita for cranking my hog while my partner sleeps?

#aita #am i the asshole

[quin-ns]

The blue II (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for

Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)

Series masterlist + OBX masterlist

The light chatter filling the restaurant buzzed around you. You leaned on the bar, a rag in your hand as you lazily wiped off menus, your mind yet again wandering back to a few mornings ago.

Ever since you’d woken up on the couch on the Chateau porch, your step brother in the chair across from you, John B in the doorway, and the morning sunlight warming your skin, things seemed off.

John B had been announcing breakfast. It wasn’t anything malicious, but you saw the way JJ eyed him, and John B’s uncomfortable smile in response. Tension was the best way you could think to label it.

You didn’t think anything seemed different between them that night itself, but guys were weird. Their interactions the rest of the day turned back to normal, but that moment stuck in your head for some reason. You couldn’t quite explain it, not even to yourself.

You had a harder time explaining it to Kiara.

“I think you’re just reading into stuff that’s not there,” Kie insisted, passing by you with a platter. She could see the thoughtful look on your face and had probably had enough of your worrying. “Don’t stress out.”

You had to wait until she returned from the table she was waiting on to respond. You helped her out at The Wreck sometimes, picking up a few shifts a week when it was busy. You’d done it just to be kind and give your friend some company, but the paycheck was pretty decent for the hours you worked. You kept a secret stash Luke couldn’t get his grubby hands on, and it helped. When you and JJ weren’t mooching off of your friends for the food in their fridges, you could use the money to stock yours.

JJ used to complain about you working, but not so much anymore. It had mainly been because he didn’t like you working late into the night on days when Kiara got off earlier than you. She always came back to give you a ride home so you didn’t see the big deal, but then JJ started showing up on his bike to escort you himself so she wouldn’t have to. At least it eased his concern enough to let you keep your hours.

You were working the barely populated counter right now, watching Kie zip around, trying to formulate a response in your head.

Maybe you were just overthinking, you were the first to admit you tended to do that. You and JJ practically lived in each other's pockets, if something was up he would tell you… wouldn’t he?

“So you didn't notice anything? Nothing at all?” you asked Kie, the words jumping off your tongue the moment she returned to your side.

The other girl shrugged, stealing two of the menus you had just cleaned.

“JJ just seems like JJ, but… I mean, John B has been looking at you more.”

Your brows curved down. “Looking at me more?”

“Not trying to make him sound like a creep, but yeah.” She smirked, a hand landing on her hip. “Maybe he’s into you.”

“Into me? John B?” It sounded like a joke. “You can’t be serious.”

She raised her hands in mock surrender, menus waving like a flag. “You asked what I thought,” she defended as she walked away.

Did she actually think that? If JJ was suspicious, that might explain things, but you couldn’t be sure.

Kiara stuck around and pulled a double since her parents asked her to, and it worked out well so the two of you could ride together.

That’s why when the restaurant was closed and you and Kie were heading out to her car, you were surprised to find JJ waiting in the parking lot with his bike.

He was leaning against it, his arms crossed over his chest. The blonde smirked when he saw you, a quip about making him wait on the tip of his tongue

You were about to make a dumb joke about him trying to look like a bad boy stereotype to counter—the white T-shirt and boots really added to that—but Kie beat you both to the punch and spoke first.

“What are you doing here?” she asked when the two of you approached him.

“Didn’t think you’d still be here,” JJ said to Kie, standing up straight and tucking his hands into his pockets.

“I texted you she was gonna give me a ride.”

You were certain you had.

“I didn’t see it,” JJ said with a shrug. “You wanna ride with me to the Chateau then? Since I detoured all the way here.”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatic tone and looked to Kie.

“I’ll see you there.” You climbed on the back of the bike, waiting for him to hop on the front. “Come on, since you’re in such a rush.”

“You’re so bossy,” he taunted, but climbed on nonetheless. The bike grumbled to life and he revved the engine. “Hold on.”

You wrapped your arms around his midsection, scooting close enough to him to look over his shoulder. Not seeing where you were going gave you a bit of anxiety, even if JJ did tone down on his recklessness when you joined him for a ride.

The bike zoomed off, taking the lead, with Kie driving behind.

You thought of asking him about what had been on your mind, but the wind in your face and the roar of the bike didn’t really afford you the opportunity to make a lot of conversation.

So you clung to him tight, not bothering to try. If anyone else had been driving you would’ve wanted to get off immediately, but you knew JJ wouldn’t let you get hurt. He always looked out for you, the same way you did for him. He was the one constant you had been able to rely on this past year, but you shook your head before you could delve further into that.

You let yourself be distracted from the thought of prison cells by the security of having JJ close and the knowledge that you’d see the rest of your friends soon. It didn’t stop your heart from racing with every sharp turn you took.

“You alright back there?” he questioned over his shoulder, slowing enough for you to be able to hear him. He must’ve noticed the way you held him tighter.

“All good,” you replied, and it was about 80% the truth.

“I’ve never crashed this thing, you can trust me,” he reminded.

“I know,” you said as he started to speed up again. “I do!” you added, having to yell over the engine.

You felt JJ’s body ripple as he chuckled to himself. It was silly to think you were nervous, you’d been on the back of his bike maybe a hundred times by now.

You truly did trust JJ. You didn’t think he was going to crash or anything, it was just that natural adrenaline paired with your racing thoughts of, well, everything, that made your heart slam against your rib cage the way that it did.

You were safe with him. You always were. JJ wasn’t going to crash, and he certainly wasn’t in a fight with John B. Everything was fine.

Getting close with JJ was one of the best things that happened to you, and it came at a necessary time. Your mom going to jail was hard enough, but your friends turning on you and demonizing you was just salt in the wound. Luke, your step dad, was an asshole and a drunk, and it only got worse when he was left without her.

If it wasn’t for JJ you would’ve run away. You had a bag packed and everything, but no one ever knew about that. Nobody but JJ, and that wasn’t until later. Even if he wasn’t the kind of guy to talk about feelings, he saw you were hurting, and made himself more present. He even introduced you to his friends, who you grew close with quicker than you thought possible. It made you realize what real friends were.

You had never been a fan of Luke, but you didn’t realize how truly awful he was until one night you woke up to an argument, and not too long after JJ found you in your room with a bruise on his cheek. You begged him to leave with you, you told him about your plan and how it wasn’t too late, but he wouldn’t. Maybe he was too loyal to his friends, or at the time he didn’t believe you could make it. Either way, he wouldn’t go. So, you stayed for him.

Your bond strengthened quickly and you soon became a lifeline for one another. You’d had best friends before, but it was different with JJ. You needed him, and he never deprived you. You had a brother and a best friend and a partner in crime wrapped all up in one. Life wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t seem so bad after a while. You had JJ to thank for that. You honestly didn’t know what you’d do without him.

You recognized the yard of the Chateau as JJ turned into it, even though it was dark. You’d been here enough now to feel familiar with it—almost more familiar than your own house. To you, JJ, and your other friends, this was your second home.

With John B’s dad missing, you all tried to be there for him as much as possible. It was the least you could do.

You were especially sympathetic. Even though your mom was gone under different circumstances, you understood what it felt like to have a parent be there one day and gone the next. At least you had the comfort of knowing where your mom was, even if she was locked up hours away. John B had no idea, and that broke your heart for him. Big John was a good guy, you only knew him briefly, but you hoped he was alive somewhere, even just for John B’s sake.

The other night when you’d fallen asleep on the couch with him, the two of you had talked about it. Without the others around, the topic turned a little less lighthearted and both of you opened up about your troubles. Not that the others wouldn’t listen or that they wouldn’t be kind, it was just different with only him. Easier, somehow, in an unexpected way.

JJ stopped the bike and helped you off before letting it rest against a tree. He took you by the hand, making sure both your feet hit the ground.

“Thanks,” you muttered, eyes drawn to a glowing orange light in the distance.

“Campfire, nice,” JJ said, mostly to himself, heading for the other two boys that were waving you over.

It took you a second to notice he had yet to drop your hand, just holding it in his as he led the two of you to John B and Pope. You didn’t say anything about it. His skin was a bit calloused and his palm was warm, but you didn’t mind. You tried to recall if he’d ever held your hand before but you couldn’t seem to remember for certain.

“Where’s Kie?” Pope asked when he spotted the two of you, but not the other girl.

JJ snorted. “Nice to see you too, Pope.”

“She was right behind us,” you recalled, turning to see if she had pulled into the yard yet. In the process, you dropped JJ’s hand, not thinking much of it. You saw her headlights briefly, then they shut off. “Let's get this party started.”

Of course wasn’t actually a party, just the five of you sitting around a small fire on various chairs, lightly sipping beers, discussing whatever random thoughts came to mind.

JJ was on your left, and Kiara was on your right. John B was across from you and next to JJ, and Pope was in between John B and Kie.

You only made mental note of the seating arrangement because you still held your suspicions. You had a hard time letting things go.

At first you picked up on the way JJ was in his seat at an angle, facing more towards you with his back to the boy next to him. You also noticed that John B was smiling at you more than he usually did. Not to say he didn’t smile, and you did consider yourself to be at least mildly amusing, but even you knew you weren’t as funny as he acted like you were tonight.

As if that wasn’t enough, you caught the way Pope kept glancing at Kie, but she was oblivious.

After a sip of your beer, you let out a huff. Not quite a laugh, not quite a scoff. You’d meant to keep it in your head, internally mocking your friend group for being so weird tonight, but it slipped out.

“What’s on your mind?” John B wondered, raising his brows at you. He looked amused already, like he assumed you were going to say something good without even knowing.

You shrugged, not about to admit your thoughts out loud.

“What’s on yours?” you countered, matching his curious expression.

He leaned forward a little and smirked at your deflection.

“If El Dorado is real,” John B quipped.

“It’s definitely not,” Pope added despite John B’s clear teasing tone.

“You don’t dream of gold and riches, Pope?” JJ joined in, unable to resist mocking the realist of the group.

Pope just rolled his eyes, but you smirked.

“Your turn,” John B told you.

You hummed thoughtfully. “Where I’m gonna go on vacation. What do you think—Cancun or Bali?”

John B shrugged. “Cancun is closer. What kind of room are you booking? Ocean view would be nice.”

“Why, you wanna come with?”

John B grinned a little too wide and looked away bashfully.

“I don’t know.” His eyes met yours again above the fire. “Do you want the company?”

Something akin to excitement filled you. It was just a silly conversation, but since when did John B turn the charm on with you?

You couldn’t resist playing into it.

“Maybe I do.”

“Can you two quit it?” Kiara piped up, clearly over the bit you and John B had dragged on. “All the flirting is making me nauseous.”

You knew she was just giving you a hard time, and probably couldn’t help but mess with you two about her suspicions, but it still made your teasing smirk drop. You swallowed and sat back in your seat, looking away from John B to her. Your face felt incredibly warm, and not because of the flames.

“Aw, don’t be jealous, Kie,” John B taunted lightly, able to play it off better than you. “You can come with.”

Kiara rolled her eyes so hard you were sure you heard it.

“What is with everyone today…” she muttered. You might’ve been the only one who heard, because no one reacted to her. She didn’t really want an answer anyway.

“Barring the fact that this vacation is hypothetical,” Pope started, as if you all needed to be reminded. He sat up a little, seeming interested still. “I’d also like to be invited.”

“‘Course you’re goin’, Pope!” JJ announced, clapping a hand down on John B’s shoulder. The boom of his voice was so sudden that you nearly jumped from your chair. JJ grinned at the whole group before focusing on the boy next to him. “You got room for the rest of us? Or were you just gonna steal Y/N and take off?”

Everyone heard the bite in JJ’s tone. The silence that followed was deafening, allowing it to replay in all of your minds before John B spoke. You would’ve thought John B was threatening to kidnap you at gunpoint the way JJ made it seem.

You weren’t sure you’d ever seen your friend look so confused as he opened his mouth to respond to JJ, then closed it again. He took another second.

“No one’s stealing anyone,” he clarified to only JJ. The sincerity was a contrast to the ridiculous conversation that had just transpired. “You know that, right?”

JJ clearly wasn’t expecting the question, or maybe he’d planned on making it seem less serious than he was able to. From beside him, you could only see barely the side of his face, but you saw his body shift. He wasn’t sure whether he could relax or not.

You subconsciously glanced at Kiara for confirmation that she too was seeing what you witnessed, and from the pout on her lips and the way her eyes flicked to you, as if asking whether to intervene or not, you knew she did.

“It’s not like we're actually going anywhere,” Kiara pointed out, trying to set their heads on straight.

“Right,” JJ said, as if reminding himself of that. He pulled away from John B completely and slumped back in his chair. He looked embarrassed, throwing you a side glance, but then turned his attention to his beer bottle quickly. “Maybe some other time, when we find El Dorado.”

The joke fell flat

JJ’s gaze stayed on the bottle a second longer before lifting it. He tilted it all the way up, trying to ignore the silence, but with the way he pulled it back and looked annoyed it was clear it was empty.

“I’m gonna get another, you guys want anything?” he offered, already out of his chair and walking across the yard to the house.

When he was out of earshot Pope leaned in to the group. “That was really weird, right?”

You and John B exchanged a look. Then, he stood up.

“I’m gonna…” he trailed off as he pointed towards the house, feet carrying him away from you, Pope, and Kie.

The three of you took a moment, watching John B as he too disappeared into the house.

“Okay, so John B definitely likes you, and I think JJ knows and is pissed,” Kiara concluded, sounding a second away from pulling out a cork board. Except this wasn’t a tough case to crack. “There’s no other explanation.”

“Would JJ even care that much?” Pope pondered aloud.

You looked down at your feet.

“I guess so,” you mumbled, not even bothering to deny either of Kie’s observations.

“I get that he’s being “protective brother””—she did finger quotes around that phrase—“and that’s sweet and all, but he needs to chill,” Kiara said firmly, but the one who needed to hear it wasn’t present.

You wondered what was going on inside. You got antsy just thinking about it.

“Wait, do you think John B likes you?” Pope questioned you.

You felt both him and Kie staring at you, waiting for an answer. When you glanced between them, you grew anxious at the amount of concern in their faces. You especially zeroed in on Kie. The initial teasing giddiness she had at the prospect had long disappeared after seeing how JJ reacted.

You denied it before, and maybe it wasn’t even true, but JJ sure thought it was something. Whatever he thought, he hadn’t been mad at you. No, John B got the brunt of his frustrations. He was protective of you, sure, but… well, you didn’t quite know how to explain it. Your mind was jumbled as you searched for a way to voice your thoughts in an at least somewhat coherent way.

“I—”

Just as you opened your mouth to try, you were cut off by the slam of the porch door of the Chateau.

“Seriously, JJ?” John B called after the blonde, who had barged out the door and was now stomping towards his bike against the tree. “Why are you making such a big deal about this?”

This.

He meant you, didn’t he? You had a good feeling their fight wasn’t about Cancun.

JJ didn’t yell anything back. He just climbed on his bike and revved the engine. You got to your feet just in time to get a clear view as he sped away towards the street and disappeared into the night.

John B looked back towards you. You couldn’t see the face he made in the distance in the dark, but you saw how his hands dropped to his sides in defeat.

“That cannot have been good…” Pope stated uncomfortably.

John B approached you all, his silhouette becoming more illuminated the closer he got to the fire.

“I, um.” He scratched the back of his head. “I think I’m gonna call it a night if that’s cool with you guys.”

You found yourself agreeing with Pope, even though the words didn’t come out.

“Yeah, okay,” Kiara responded first, almost cautiously. She looked to you. “Do you need a ride?”

Of course you did, yours completely abandoned you. It was still nice of her to ask as if it was a polite offer and not a necessity.

“Thanks, Kie,” you told her, forcing a smile. “I’d appreciate that.”

“I need to get home anyway, I gotta work with my dad in the morning,” Pope joined in, trying to make the exit seem more natural. “See you guys later,” he said, bidding you all farewell, anxious to escape the bubble of awkwardness.

Kiara looked between you and John B. You wouldn’t really fix your eyes anywhere, but he was looking at you. You could feel it.

You weren’t sure how you wanted your friend to react, but she took John B’s hint and made an excuse to go to her car—something about getting it started so the AC would flow. It was totally fake, anyway.

You weren’t really listening, more focused on the sound of the crackling fire and nighttime creatures.

John B sighed a little and that caught your attention.

“Sorry he took off like that,” he apologized, offering a sympathetic smile.

You shook your head. “Not your fault.”

He looked down for a second and stuffed his hand into his pockets.

“It… might be,” he admitted, voice holding a guilt that matched his stance. You just watched him, waiting for him to meet your eye and continue. “I kinda have a thing for you and JJ doesn’t exactly like that, apparently.”

You should’ve been more surprised, but you weren’t naive enough to pretend it was some big plot twist reveal.

You nodded slowly instead, unsure how to respond to that.

Sure, you liked John B as a friend, but did you have a crush on him? You didn’t know—didn’t think so. Flirting with him was fun, but you never thought of it being more than that until tonight. If you did like him, or at least if you were starting to, it was now tainted by JJ’s reaction.

“Sorry he freaked out on you,” you said after a long moment.

“Not your fault,” he returned your words back to you. “I wasn’t planning on telling you like this, or telling you at all right now but um… I assumed you probably started to figure it out.”

His awkward laugh eased the tension a little, and you felt your shoulders relax.

“Sorta, maybe,” you confessed. You pointed your thumb over your shoulder to where the jeep was parked. “Kiara kinda suspected it before all this so…”

“Sounds like her,” John B replied easily. “I don’t expect you to say anything back right now, I just thought you might want some sort of explanation for all”—he gestured to the house where what you assumed was an argument between him and your step brother had taken place—“that.”

John B was telling you he had feelings for you, and somehow it had become all about JJ. You bet the blonde would’ve gotten a kick out of that.

“I’ll talk to him, he’ll be fine. He always is,” you told your friend. He nodded, seeming relieved by that. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

As you were passing by John B to leave, you did something you instantly wanted to take back.

You stopped in front of him and pressed up on your tiptoes. You gave him a light kiss on the cheek, more of an apologetic gesture than anything else, but you knew how it would look to him.

He told you he had a crush on you, and you kissed him on the cheek.

Guys didn’t usually appreciate the nuances of things like that, even an intelligent guy like John B. You could only hope he took it for what it was.

Your back was to him before he could question you, and you fought the urge to explain yourself.

“See ya,” John B called after you, sounding like he was about to stumble over his words if he continued.

You clenched your eyes shut for a long moment. It was only because you lost your sense of direction that you opened them again and sought out the jeep.

Kiara was quiet for the beginning of the drive, waiting for you to talk first. When you didn’t, she filled the silence.

“You wanna go to my house? My parents won’t mind,” she offered, sensing the unspoken stress radiating off of you.

You shook your head a little.

“I gotta talk to JJ,” you explained in a few words. It was more than enough. “John B told me he likes me,” you added, laying your head against the window, unable to keep it to yourself.

There was a sort of exhaustion to your voice that didn’t allow Kiara to smile at the revelation right away.

“Told you,” she commented instead, only letting herself chuckle when you cracked a smile at her tone. “Do you like him back?”

“I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t know,” you said. You didn’t think you did but you weren’t exactly sure now. “That’s a question for another night.”

Kie nodded. She witnessed what you had, after all.

“If you don’t know, maybe it’s a sign you don’t,” she suggested, glancing over to you briefly. “But if you do, JJ will get over it.”

Something in you suggested maybe that wouldn’t be the case, but you forced a smile when you tilted your head and met her gaze as if to agree—or thank her, at least, for the support.

When she pulled up outside your house, you had to drag yourself out of the car. A confrontation was coming up, there was no way it wasn’t.

You weren’t going to be able to just pretend nothing happened, and even if you did resist questioning JJ and ignored him instead, he’d sense your annoyance and push you until you talked to him. And talking, in this case, would lead to arguing. You hated arguing.

When you got inside the house, it was dark. The only light came from the TV. With it, you spotted Luke passed out on the couch, so you kept your footsteps quiet as you trekked through clutter back to your room.

Opening your door, you weren’t sure whether to find it surprising or not that JJ was in your bed. He often sought comfort with you in your room after hard times, but you began to wonder if he still did the same even when you weren’t present.

He was laying stomach down, flat on the mattress. His head was to the side, resting on your pillow, and his feet were hanging off the edge. At least he was nice enough to not put his dirty boots on your clean sheets, even if he had invaded your space.

Just like the rest of the house, your room was dark. You shut the door behind you when you stepped in and went for your bedside lamp.

You clicked it on and crossed your arms, looking down at the blonde. You caught him blinking and knew he was awake, although you didn’t actually think he was trying to pretend.

You subconsciously scanned his face—the part that you could see—for new injuries and found nothing.

“That really wasn’t cool,” you scolded him when you saw he was awake. “Fighting with John B then storming off like that.”

He ignored you, just flicking his eyes up to you wordlessly.

You rolled your eyes, frustration brewing. In an instant, you snatched the pillow from beneath his head and tossed it on an empty space on the bed.

JJ sat up with a reluctant frown. “Thanks, I’ll remember that next time.”

Your stomach turned when you saw a new bruise on his cheek. It was on the side of his face he’d hidden in the pillow.

You wanted to help him, to get ice, but his face almost held a warning for you not to.

“Don’t,” he murmured when he saw your expression soften. “It’s fine.”

The way he planted his feet on the ground and stared up at you made him seem like you were putting him in time-out or something. You didn’t like that feeling. Why was he so stubborn?

“There’s not gonna be a next time, you need to fix this,” you insisted, going back to the topic beforehand, feeding the narrative you were trying to resist.

JJ scoffed and even shook his head, it reminded you of how he had acted around all your friends.

“Funny how you seem to think you’re the boss of me,” he challenged, clearly in a bad mood. Whatever anger he’d been feeling at the Chateau had only been amplified by whatever transpired here in your absence. “Why does it matter anyway? Can you just stay out of it?”

“Well, if you weren’t all weird and hadn’t ditched me, maybe I wouldn’t be involved.”

A look of guilt broke through JJ’s rough exterior. His eyes turned to the floor, looking almost ashamed. The room was quiet for a moment, all you could hear was breathing.

“Sorry about that,” he said, voice lower than before. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

You let out an exhale. It was really hard to stay mad at him when all you wanted was to take him into your arms. It must’ve been hard for him to apologize, ‘sorry’ had never been his thing.

“It’s fine, I got a ride with Kie,” you uttered, letting him off the hook even though you should not have. There were more pressing matters. “Did you and John B fight about me?”

That made him look up, a sense of panic in those blue eyes of his.

“Is that what he said?” JJ asked, regaining composure as he stood, but still scanning your face.

“Not in those exact words,” you relayed. “But he told me he liked me and that you weren’t happy about it.”

JJ’s face shifted and he shook his head. He didn’t deny it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed you instead in a way that made it hard not to take offense.

You weren’t used to him treating you this way, like you didn’t deserve to be involved in whatever was going on with him. Not to mention you were directly affected, whether JJ wanted you to be or not.

“How about you don’t worry about it?” you snapped back, defiance kicking in. It was an instinct, you’d never had to talk back to him in this way. Sure, you’d argued before about little things, but this wasn’t that. “If I like him or not, it’s my choice.” You furthered his surprise by jabbing a finger at his chest. “Not yours.”

You saw JJ’s jaw tense. He was trying to find the right words.

“You can’t,” he came up with, spitting it out like he couldn’t keep it in.

You furrowed your brows, the corners of your lips tugging down.

“Can’t?” you repeated in disbelief. “Okay, JJ.”

“I’m serious,” he replied to your heavy sarcasm. “You just can’t,” he argued, with noticeably less power than before. It sounded pleading, even. Like he was begging you not to even consider it.

“Why?” you questioned, less fire igniting your temper. If anything, you were curious now.

“Can you just drop it?” he shot back, running a hand through his messy hair. He appeared more panicked than angry, realizing the corner he’d backed himself into.

“No, not when you made it a thing. Just tell me what is going on,” you pressed, wanting a straightforward answer.

What was so awful about this to him?

The fingers in his hair tightened, like he was going to rip the strands out.

“Can you not ask me that?” he nearly demanded, dropping his hand, fingers twitching at his side. The request was so ridiculous you couldn’t help but laugh. JJ’s frown deepened into something more hurt. “I don’t want to talk about this with you,” he determined, trying to walk past you.

You put a hand out, stopping him by the chest. You tilted your chin up at the close proximity, making him meet your eye.

“Can you just answer the question?” you countered, using little force to keep him in place. You stared up, watching him as he stared at you wordlessly. “You’re not a coward, JJ.” Maybe it was antagonistic, but you wanted an answer. You were at the end of your rope. “You always speak your mind—so do it.”

Then, JJ did just about the last thing you ever expected him to.

He kissed you.

#jj maybank x reader #step brother!jj maybank #step brother!!jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #stepbrother!jj maybank #jj maybank x you #step bro!jj maybank #the blue #outer banks #quin-ns writing #obx

[beanghostprincess]

the monster trio are various flavors of audhd (all strawhats are neurodivergent, but they the most)

luffy is high empathy, stimming, bluntness and audioprocessing disorder

zoro is hyperfocus, sleepy, good at maths and flat affect

sanji is infodumping, special interest (cooking), rigid rules (don't hurt women, don't use hands, etc) and difficulty with regulating emotions

Agree completely 🫶🏻 There is not a single neurotypical person in this crew !! That's why they love each other so much, they just get each other. In general, I think that the whole "misfits finding a found family" trope is incredibly neurodivergent coded but I think that specifically with the strawhats there is like, a fundamental obvious understanding that none of them are neurotypical. Like there is no way. I know it's meant to be very general for people who don't fit in to relate, but keeping in mind that most of the time the reason people don't fit in is because of living in a normative, neurotypical society... Idk. I just feel like the strawhats were all meant to be for neurodivergent people.

This being said !!!

AAAAAAAAAA I love the monster trio being neurodivergent. Mainly because I know it'd bother sooo many dudebros. And also because it makes so much sense and it's very very very real to me.

Luffy can't stop moving or doing stuff because it is painfully boring to be doing nothing, so he's always finding new things to do because short attention span and hyperactivity in a crew where everybody has their own stuff to do?? Not a good combo. So he's always seeing what he can do to not get bored. I think he's always touching Zoro's earrings absentmindedly like-- It's not even on purpose. He just does it. Also, being made of rubber has to be the best thing for stimming with your own body ngl. He's sooo direct and honest and blunt because he genuinely doesn't get why people don't think the same as him, but he doesn't have to get it to be emotionally attached and help you out because he makes other people's emotions his. Also add info-dumping right there because I know this guy is the biggest nerd about beetles and will talk to anybody who asks about them. They might be talking about something that has nothing in common with them and he brings them up anyway. Also! I adore the APD headcanon??? You're so right and it fits him SO well.

Zoro is my absolute beloved here because he has so much depth and feels and knows so much but people always characterize him as stoic and emotionless and like,, He just has a hard time showing it visually but he feels stuff deeply. He's always training and it almost feels like the world around him vanishes and he's always sooo eepy. Eepy boy. I get it. I think he almost finds it frustrating tbh like- We never talk about that but I think it's a bit bothersome for him sometimes? Also he's my favorite math genius and he might be shitty at directions but damn he's good at this. Also he likes things to be perfectly placed and everything to be in patterns of 3, thank you.

Sanji is the realest for me-- Don't ask him about the All Blue (please do) because he will start talking like crazy for hours and hours and hours with the brightest of smiles. If somebody wants to know about his cooking like, actually know what he's doing, he won't shut up. Somebody mentions any animal or vegetable or fruit and the guy is already telling you all the ways it can be cooked. He has a lil voice in his head telling him constantly what he should and shouldn't do btw and I also hc that he has to have everything in the right place or else he loses his mind completely. And that's tied to not being able to regulate emotions properly-- So he's constantly extremely anxious or feeling waves of sadness or just, extreme emotions in general.

#also sanji is just like me fr #they're all neurodivergent and they love each other sooo much!!!! #one piece #monster trio #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #ask-bean!

[cybersteal]

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕨: 𝕍𝕚𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕪

Tagged by @dreamskug and subsequently ripped off inspired by his, @lokiina’s, @nightcityace’s & @arcandoria’s creative take on it.

V: Hey, sorry I’m- Interviewer: Late? V: Only by thirty minutes, can't be that big of a deal. Interviewer: Maybe it is-

V: Okay, well, I'm here now, on a Friday night, instead of drinking myself stupid like I wish I was. Go ahead and ask your questions.

ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ:

V: V. Interviewer: That’s it? V: Yup.

ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ:

V: Male.

ꜱᴛᴀʀ ꜱɪɢɴ:

ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛ:

V: Six feet. Interviewer: Actually? V: Does this look like a face that would lie to you?

ᴏʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ:

V: You first. Interviewer: Excuse me? V: Hah! Relax, choom, just trying to lighten the mood! Jeez. I’m Pan. Equal opportunity for all. Mostly me.

ɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ / ᴇᴛʜɴɪᴄɪᴛʏ:

V: I was born in SoCal, but my parents are both from Mexico. I have a…complicated relationship with my Latino heritage, since it wasn’t really somethin’ that my parents took the time to share with me in detail, or my siblings. Never had the chance to ask why, but after comin’ to Night City, I realized I kinda missed out on a lot growing up.

ᴅᴏɢ ᴏʀ ᴄᴀᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ:

V: Well, I have a cat at home. One of those hairless ones. But I did always want a dog. Interviewer: Oh? What kind? V: Xoloitzcuintli.

ꜰᴀᴠᴇ ꜰʀᴜɪᴛ, ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ, ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ, ꜱᴄᴇɴᴛ:

V: Whoa, whoa, slow down, Jesus. Uhh…first one was-? Interviewer: Fruit. V: Right. I like grapes. The purple ones. Interviewer: Why purple? V: Shit, I dunno. They taste better? Interviewer: Heh. Yeah, fair enough. Season? V: I love summer. Life slows down a little, people take more time to relax. I don’t mind the heat, neither, ‘cause I can just go for a swim whenever, or go for a drive with the windows down. Cools me just fine. Interviewer: Preem. V: I like those orange poppy’s that grow all over the Badlands. California poppy’s I think they’re called.

Interviewer: And for your favorite scent? V: Right – probably amber. I've used the same brand of amber-heavy cologne for years. Oh, and I really like that one specific brand of tobacco my mom smoked. Interviewer: What brand was that? V: Can’t recall. Somethin’ imported.

ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ, ᴛᴇᴀ ᴏʀ ʜᴏᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇ:

V: Coffee. Double shot. Sometimes triple, if I’m doin’ a long gig. Interviewer: Christ. V: Hey, merc work ain’t easy. It’s that or synthcoke. Interviewer: I’m scared to ask the next question…

ᴀᴠᴇʀᴀɢᴇ ʜᴏᴜʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ:

V: Yikes…like 5? If I’m lucky. Interviewer: I’m not at all surprised. V: The fuck is that supposed to mean?

ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴀɴᴋᴇᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ:

V: No, no. Hold on. I wanna know why you’re not surprised. Do I got bags under my eyes or somethin’? Interviewer: Actually, no. V: Nova. Interviewer: You got suitcases.

V: You’re fine, choom. I appreciate the banter. I don’t need to sleep with any blankets though. Interviewer: Really? Why not?

V: Sub-dermal armor. Got a bunch of other stuff you can’t see as well – keeps me runnin' hot, all the time.

ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴛʀɪᴘ:

V: Aw, shit. There’s so many places. If I had to pick, I guess…Havana. Interviewer: Cuba. You into history? V: Nah, choom. Beaches.

ꜰᴀᴠᴇ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ:

V: Mad Max. Interviewer: You don’t think that’s a little…stereotypical? V: Does it look like I care? Me and my sister used to pretend we were members of the MFP and annoy the hell out of our brother. I called him nothin' but Toecutter for two years. He hated it.

ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ:

V: If you lick a person’s elbow when they’re not looking, they won’t feel it. Interviewer: …huh. Misty: Oh, V… V: It was the first thing that popped into my head, okay, I panicked-

This was a lot of fun to make tbqh. He's such a gonk - that ADHD brain keeps him moving around and fidgeting 24/7 even without the help of caffeine or stims and boosters, and he can talk about himself for hours, the narcissistic dickhead.

Shoutout to my bestest choombatta @klept0kid you deserve to have your name attached to your masterpiece lmao.

tags: @chooh2 @pinkyjulien @meltingangels @ouroboros-hideout @ne0n-rust @netripper @wilxfyre @klept0kid @glitchinginthegarden @nightcxty @shimmer-like-agirl @noirapocalypto @katsigian @wanderingaldecaldo @cyberpunkaddict @elvenbeard @wraithsoutlaws

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk v #cyberpunk photomode #oc: vice de'angelo #my screenshots #he zoomin! look at him go waow #i wish i had that much energy jfc #i am now dragging myself to bed because this took me (and klept0) all day #hopefully all my fuckin tags work this time or i will be very cross 😡

[greenerteacups]

forever grateful to you for sharing your musings, as if the book writing weren't great enough and hard work enough, you truly spoil us and i love you.

I'm popping in here to ask if you would like to talk about how you see Dumbledore. Sometimes I feel his manipulative side is abused in fanfiction, depicting little more than a heartless chess master.

And well, I guess I'm curious to find out if Lionheart Albus has a heart and will we get to see it. Maybe the more generous glimpses you give us of Snape and his interactions with him will shed some light on his hidden depths? Or will his appearances remain fleeting and enigmatic, always far and above all the little people we do know and adore?

Sorry, I know you can't possibly be completely balanced in your portraying of the whole cast, or they would spread too thin. I am here for the plot, for the Dramione and the Blacks, but I deeply enjoy all the character building (I truly live for all of them, not only our loved ones, I even cherish Warrington with sincere hate and am waiting for his comeuppance ) so I thought I would ask if you wouldn't mind a few comments on our opaque headmaster.

Thank you, friend! You're really kind.

Dumbledore has a relatively minor role in Lionheart for a few reasons — chief among which is, as you point out, that we just don't have time for everybody to get the same level of characterization the mains do. I have plot justifications for that, but it'd be disingenuous to suggest otherwise: Dumbledore's minor because I'm less interested in him than I am in Snape and Narcissa, and Lionheart is much more about Draco's sphere of the world than Harry's. That being said, I think some people forget how small Dumbledore's role is in the original books. He pretty much exists to deliver exposition and tell Harry how to beat the final boss; dude doesn't even get a gesture at a backstory until he's already dead. In fact, it's kinda weird to me that everyone (including a lot of people in the series) treats Dumbledore like he's some kind of guardian for Harry, especially with respect to the decision to keep him at the Dursleys. I know it's set up in the prologue, but if I'm Dumbledore, and I'm catching strays for Vernon Dursley being a piece of shit, I'm gonna be like:

The TLDR on Dumbledore is he's blamed way too much for stuff he doesn't do instead of the stuff he does. People seem to blame him for everything bad that happens to Harry because he's a competent adult in the general vicinity of the kid. But with the possible exception of hiring Lockhart — a bad decision I attribute to Early Installment Weirdness and, just maybe, a certain scarcity of applicants for a position where the last dude Literally Fucking Died — there's not a whole lot of shit that happens to Harry in the first few books Dumbledore could've prevented. Plus, he does in fact have Other Shit to be Doing. Is he a really powerful wizard who probably could've saved Harry's ass in a lot of the fights he gets into? Yes. Does he also have a whole school to run, a secret guerrilla group to direct, a Ministry full of political enemies to placate, and — oh yeah — a snake-faced immortal evil sorcerer he's playing 4D chess with at all times? Yes!

The whole lamb-to-slaughter thing with Harry is admittedly quite dark, but I don't read it as machiavellian. For one, Dumbledore obviously comes to this conclusion after a lot of deliberation, and to his death, he refuses to tell Harry about it, because (one assumes) he never intends to kill Harry himself. He's willing to hinge the fate of the free world on his respect for Harry's autonomy and/or his faith that Harry will make the "right" choice. That's pretty humane, given the circumstances. And he holds off on telling Harry about the horcruxes because... he doesn't want to inform a literal child that he'll eventually have to kill himself for the war effort. Oh, GOD, what a SCHEMING MONSTER. Surely this is motivated by menace, and not the grieving reluctance of a seasoned veteran who wants to preserve whatever few years of happiness this kid can eke out of life.

The areas where Dumbledore is morally shady come out most in his interactions with other adults. His conversation with Severus in 1981, for instance, is the one time in the books where I was legitimately frightened of him, because it's a rare time he's completely without mercy or grace. "What will you give me in return, Severus?" is a character-defining line, because Snape has just told him that two twenty-somethings and their infant child are about to be murdered, and Dumbledore's hit back with the subtextual equivalent of: "Tough shit. Why is it my problem?" Which is COLD AS FUCK! And we can kind of infer that he's not in earnest here, that he's manipulating Severus by making him think Dumbledore won't protect the Potters (even though they're Order members, which this theory requires us to assume Severus doesn't know) so that he can get him to work as a spy — but we don't know that for certain, right? It's all inference. We hope that his implicit threat isn't genuine, but what would happen if Severus said no, and walked away? How much did Albus understand about Snape's feelings for Lily, and what kind of person does it take to bluff like that in front of a known Legilimens? That line is intimidating as fuck whether or not Albus means it.

It's bits like these, where he's talking to people that he actually dislikes, where we get hints of the real Machiavellian Albus Dumbledore, and it's absolutely fascinating. He's the veteran of two wars, going on three when he dies, and you can tell in how he conducts himself. That includes, by the way, his gentility with children and his respect for innocence. But he's not just Good Funny Grandfather Dude or Crafty Mastermind. He's a general. He's been waging wars from the back lines since his twenties. That does something to your brain, and it doesn't leave a lot of you left over for anything else.

#greenteacup asks

[flowersforfics]

"We’re an Interracial couple " C.S

Chris Sturniolo x Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n and Chris do the "We're a couple of course trend"

Reader: She is black and fem but has no body descriptions

Rating: PG-13, fluff

Warning: cussing like twice, fast-paced?

Request: YES/NO

Beta Read: YES/NO

Request/ Asks Open: YES/NO

Words:1k

A/N: I hope y'all like this I have one more fic for Chris before I move on to another person.

A/N2: The way I read this before posting and reread it and missed grammar mistakes anyway it's fixed now.

Chris master list and Main master list

I do not give consent for my work to be translated or put on different platforms without my knowledge if you would like to do so just send an ask or comment

You have been seeing videos of couples doing the "Were a couple of course" trend and you wanted to do it with Chris so you sent him a video of the trend and he was on board.

You and Chris decided you guys should do it outside at a park at night if someone asked you why you couldn't give them a set answer.

"You ready" Chris asks me and I nod my head he tells me to go when he starts recording on the regular camera instead of TikTok.

"We're an interracial couple of course I send him cute pictures of other interracial couples and say that us," I say while walking and looking at the camera. Chris passes me my phone while it's still recording. I point the camera at Chris and he looks at the camera.

"We're an interracial couple of course I use your hair products because they are better," Chris says smiling at me.

"You what, "I say before putting the camera down then stop walking while looking at him like he has 10 heads

"I use your hair products and brushes," He says as he stops walking looking at me

"Christopher how long have you been using my stuff, not the brushes i don't care about those I clean them every week.

"Probably 2-3 months," He says shrugging his shoulders

"That's why your hair looks fluffier, but that's also why I keep running out, Chris that shit is expensive, "I say slightly yelling

"I'll buy you more I promise let's continue the video," He says taking the camera out of my hand and placing a kiss on my forehead

"We're an interracial couple of course I say black jokes he doesn't get most of the time, "I say looking at the camera

"I get them......sometimes," he says while I take the camera from him

"We're an interracial couple of course when I'm awake and you're asleep and your bonnet tries to run away I put her back on you," Chris says pointing at me

"That's nice and cute Chris thank you," I say looking at him and then placing a kiss on his nose. Chris took the camera from me and pointed towards me.

" We're an interracial couple of course when I kiss you on the lips I leave a lipstick mark around your lips because my lips are bigger than yours," I say pointing at him 

"I love it every time," He says passing me the phone

"We're an Interracial couple of course I save hairstyles I think you would like," He says smiling at me

"That's how I got this hairstyle," I say turning the camera to me and Chris takes the phone out of my hand

'We're an interracial couple of course I quote black movies and he doesn't know what I'm talking about half of the time," I say thinking about the time I quoted Friday and he looked at me confused.

" Well I get some now since we watched all the Friday movies," He says passing me the phone

"We're an interracial couple, of course, I know she's not the one," Chris says referring to the time I said that to him when I was annoyed.

"Bro,' I say laughing and Chris laughs with me after a while we calm down and I pass him the phone

"We're an interracial couple of course we were Ariel and Prince Erik for Halloween," I say remembering our Halloween costume from last year.

"I loved that one," Chris said passing me the phone.

"We're an interracial couple of course I remember your lip combo and foundation shade," Chris said he had stopped walking once we got to the exit of the park. 

"AWE," I say before turning the camera off. I put my phone in my back pocket

"There a 7-11 over there wanna go to it," Chris points grabbing my hand and kissing my palm. I nodded my head then I went to hold his hand and Chris led me to the 7-11 once we were inside Chris refused to let go of my hand. We started to walk around and get some snacks. Once we were at the Slushies station I tried to let go of Chris's hand and he wouldn't budge.

"Chris I need my hand," I say trying to pull away 

"No, you don't come on we're going to do this together," Chris says placing the snacks on the counter behind us. After a while, we walk out of the store laughing and not holding hands.

"My place or yours," I ask looking at Chris taking a sip of my Slushie

"Your place," Chris says pulling out his phone and texting his brothers. I pull out my phone to look at how long it would take to walk to my place.

"It's a 10-minute walk from here let's go," I say as I look at Chris while he puts his phone away. We begin walking back to my place talking and laughing the whole way there.

Once we get inside my place we take off our shoes and coats placing them on the rack by the door. 

We do our nighttime routine and the door dashed us some food. While we ate I edited the video and posted it. Once we were done with our food and our slushies we put our snacks away and went to the bathroom to brush our teeth then went to bed.

+ BONUS COMMENTS ON THE VIDEO

Y/nChri: The way they look at each other

Y/nluv: Y/N better than me. I would have fought Chris over the hair stuff.

⤷ Chriluv: Straight boxing in that park

Y/nkid: Awe they have matching outfits

⤷ bbyy/n: omg i didn't notice

Chris_Y/nsbby: Get you a bf who fixes your bonnet

⤷ Y/npie: the way I looked at my bf and sighed

Y/nbae: I know those mosquitoes ate their ass up.

⤷ Nicksturniolo: oh most deffinetly

     ⤷ Mattsturniolo: and they're gonna complain about it all day tomorrow.

I hope you guys like this. Like, Comment, or reblog if you do.

Comment if you would like to be added to my taglist.

Have an amazing Day or Night MWAH.

TAGLIST

@jnkvivi

#black fanfiction #black fem reader #black reader insert #black yn #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x black reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets

[waywardangel-wilds]

Another HC because I’m in the midst of brainstorming for fic writing purposes:

[once again, this is just my hc, no one who doesn’t want to has to accept it!]

Hobbies.

Peeta and Katniss both have their individual activities - Painting, baking, hunting, writing, music, etc. they’ve, of course, shared each of those with the other but none of those are something they could consistently do together because it’s just not the others jam. But thing is, they want to have a shared activity! That’s where the garden comes in.

Peeta started the garden (unwittingly) when he planted the primroses. They both take care of those flowers with so much love and patience, it was only natural to plant something else eventually.

Now, their house doesn’t have an aesthetic garden - neither of them knows the first thing about landscaping - their garden is all about life and learning and utility.

I’ve always pictured their Victor Village house as a large ornate house on a big plot of land. So, there’s a lot of space in the front and the back. I think their actual garden is in the back of the house, just because I’ve always pictured their kitchen in the back of the house with a door leading right to it, but I might be wrong about that layout. When it comes to houses in books I tend to create an entire layout in my head based on vibes and not the text at all haha. Like I literally have a stronger mental image of their house than of either of their faces lol.

Anyway, the garden is in the back. There’s a homemade scarecrow there, made up entirely of Peeta’s old shirts which have been stitched together and stuffed with hay and leaves.

They grow all kinds of food - they’re those neighbours that always ask if you’d like some tomatoes in the summer ‘cause they’ve got lots! There’s also all kinds of medicinal plants - think of the garden as a natural next step from the plant book.

Sometimes, Katniss teaches her music/daycare class/group of kids about plants via the garden. She does this before taking them into the woods to get them familiar with the shapes and colours they’re going to be looking for. She then tests them in the woods, “who can find me a katniss root?”

I see their garden as natural / not like a farm or a typical garden - like the plants might be in rows (?), sure, but no one is controlling in which direction they grow, nor are they necessarily divided by type. Like when you’re growing rubber, they would plant it in the way that makes most sense for that plant - big distances between each plant (for rubber not for like every plant lol), plus keeping it side-by-side (root wise) with another plant that does well with it, in the case of rubber I cannot remember if that’s corn or sugarcane? It doesn’t matter, you get my point, plus they’re not planting rubber in twelve lol. It’s more like those forest gardens you can sometimes find - the ones indigenous people used to plant back in the day? Along their migration routes? Something like that. I don’t see Katniss valuing some sort of Capitol-imposition looking garden that doesn’t jive with the surrounding environment. She wants something that feels like the woods and looks like it belongs. So it’s all native plants and vegetables, and they’re planted in a way that makes sense for the ecosystem.

My point is that their garden is their shared hobby. They spend a lot of time back there, so much time in fact that Haymitch sometimes drags a chair there to hang out with them too. Peeta set up a hammock between 2 fruit trees (I wanna say plum trees but idk what ppl in Appalachia would grow so ignore me) and is known to fall asleep in it all the time. The first summer they started spending time there Peeta got horribly sunburned so he has a designated hat for being out in the sun (“the Peeta hat” to Katniss and “The Hick Hat” to Haymitch). Katniss teaches Peeta all her food preservation secrets -- Peeta already knew some stuff, it’s not like the bakery didn’t also have to keep a store of food, it’s just that Katniss knows even more things you can do with food — their cellar is filled with everything you can think of, pickled, fermented, even dried. Everything.

When the kids are born it’s a family activity for as long as they’re interested — they grow out of it eventually, choosing to spend their afternoons playing in the street or at a friends house instead — they get a real kick out of planting seeds, picking fruits, yanking out roots, and weeding and checking for bugs. The girl did a whole science project on it once, it was all about the water cycle and the role of plants. Katniss proudly keeps a picture of her and the project on the fridge. It hangs there for the rest of her life.

When they’re elderly they still take care of the garden. The kids hem and haw about their knees, heat stroke, water intake, sinkholes, and the possibility of a sudden and unexpected earthquake. Their worries are soundly ignored. The plants keep growing, the food keeps coming. By this point there’s a number of pet graves (buttercup descendants, a few fish, and an ill-fated bunny that was not killed by the children it was an accident!) When Katniss and Peeta are no longer around, one of their kids keeps the garden going, they keep the house in the family and teach the next generation about what plants are good for eating and which ones are good for healing. Can you believe it?They even have a book!

#the hunger games #thg #everlark #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #my headcanons

[confessionsofamasc]

#1

I was born in a hospital that I drive by sometimes. I don’t understand gender or sex more than anyone. I’ve read a lot of theory. I’ve taken comfort in it. It hasn't changed my conditions, but it's granted me a sense of stability. The best of it offers clarification. The worst of it makes me feel like I don’t exist. It’s like anything, it’s complicated. It has made me suspicious of any unifying theory of gender, of simplification. That abstraction feels like more of the same. The reduction, the disappearance, the slow death. Everything begs the question and everyone is too afraid to try and answer it.

The more I read the more ambiguity I am able to accept in myself and others. It usually isn't reciprocated.

I’m a man. Right now my hair is long. It’s annoying, it gets in the way. Recently I was enjoying wearing feminine clothing, but not so much at the moment. I used to date women. I used to be a lesbian. I used to be butch, in a lot of ways I still am. I got myself into a lot of trouble that way. I sought out people who could see my maleness somewhere inside of my womanhood. This was fraught. I try not to blame myself. My maleness made me vulnerable and people could tell. That's on them.

I don’t know what I look like. People see me as different things. I’ve been told that some of these different things lie in complete contradiction with each other. To some people I negate myself and they hate that. I don’t mind being a paradox. I didn’t make it a paradox. I know how I feel and I know what I want. How other people see me is not my responsibility. I know what feels right and what feels wrong. It's one of those things, like love. No justification needed. I like what this has given me, a general ambivalence I find freeing. No one owes me understanding, not even myself, just acceptance. I roll with the punches.

No one’s going to be able to know me from a short interaction. That’s fine. That’s not my problem. It’s not their problem either. But I correct them, I give them a chance. I am as honest as possible. It’s awkward. Sometimes it isn’t, sometimes there is that moment of two people meeting, like two comrades undercover. The nod, the smiles. Some people get angry. I avoid going places where they might be able to react. I don’t go out. Sometimes I don’t correct people. 

Sometimes I know that people want me to make myself smaller, more understandable, that I must diminish myself. Categorize, define, summarize, defend, defer. I get the feeling my complexity is the wrong kind of complexity. I hate deference, I want to be an equal participant in the conversation.

I was in line for a friend’s show, waiting to get my bag searched, my ID checked and a man behind me got close, started touching my bag. Same old. Bad jokes, mean jokes, stuff to try and make me feel vulnerable. Said he was putting his gun in my bag to hold onto. Trying to get me to engage to protect myself. Flatter him, don’t hurt his ego. That boring misogynistic flirting that kids start honing in grade school. I didn’t say anything. I made myself as uninteresting as I could. That hurt his feelings. “I bet you think I’m such an asshole”, he said with little kid anger. I continued to ignore him. I didn’t want him to hear my voice or see my face. He figured I was a girl. It's the hair. Then came his quick turn to vitriol, insults under his breath. I got inside and none of my friends were there yet. I pretended to be alright, cold-blooded. Like I don't feel anything.

I learned that quickly, that being a man is not a trump card, not for me. Some people tell me this can't be true, it's not the part about being a man. I become comprehensible to them only if they separate me from an important part of my whole, if they dictate myself back to me in a way they find acceptable, in line with their worldview. Sometimes I am asked to completely disavow it to be let back into life. That is a very old trick. I got tired of it when I was still a little girl.

I know that it is the catalyst. The thing about me, the nail in the coffin. No matter what kind of man I've been, it's been true. I can't forget it even if I'm told that I must be coming at it the wrong way because I have to hold that knowledge close to survive. When I abandon it I abandon myself. Bad things start to happen again.

Why is my understanding of the violence that happens to me up for debate? How can you debate a thing you can't even look wholly at? Who gets to abstract it, define it? I should really be asking, who decides what is too insignificant to be considered part of the definition? What violence gets to slip through the cracks, undefined as violence? Why? Why are my friends disappearing into abusive relationships like I did for most of my life? Why are my friends killing themselves? Why does no one notice?

I guess there are a lot of questions that everyone's afraid to ask.

#transgender #transmasc #transmasculine #trans man

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Could I ask for a Crowe x f!reader who's always giggling at random stuff? I crave more content of him 💔

Risibility (Crowe x Giggly! Fem. MC/Reader)

Thank you for the ask Anon! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Risibility: the ability or inclination to laugh; the tendency to laugh often and easily.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are often described as jovial. Witty. Comedic.

That’s part of the reason Crowe started getting attached so fast.

When you first arrived at the school, Crowe deemed you as simply a very aggressively positive person, until he hung out with you more.

He honestly didn’t know what to make of the constant giggle fits you had, just seeing a random child fall over was enough to send you.

(Albeit that was pretty funny, he had to admit, although he’d feel too bad to admit it).

Sometimes he’d ponder whether you were laughing at him, or trying to not make fun of him. 

When he asked you about it, all you did was nervously chuckle and shortly explain your ‘Laughinson’s’™️ to him.

You felt really bad after that, but he honestly found your constant giggling endearing.

He realised after a while he disliked the sight of you trying to stifle a smile or restrain yourself from laughing.

One of his friendship goals was to make you comfortable with almost asphyxiating from laughter with him. Your laughter was contagious.

It sounded lively, joyful, hopeful. He felt at ease whenever you were around. 

There are times, however, where you giggle slightly too intensely, like the time a pigeon smacked into the window during Art History. You were laughing so hard you were starting to get concerned for your lungs, (he was honestly praying you wouldn’t die); hell, you were losing pallor and gasping for air 20 minutes after it happened! Your teacher and class started seeing you as both deranged and 'unique'.

Also, weirdly enough (is it really), even someone insulting you made you laugh (although he thinks it’s because it’s your main coping mechani-) to which he’d politely tell them to fuck off leave you be.

Crowe one day decided that even if you were stupidly a smidge coo-coo; he still lov- really liked you. If you start giggling, especially in class, he would research ways to try and help you calm down. 

Then you try them. 

Then they don’t work. 

Then you try again, because Crowe, as he says: “I don’t care how long it may take, I can wait until death if it means you can do something that works for you”.

You also laugh when you’re stressed, as Crowe found out when you asked him for study notes the day before a massive literature exam. (He gave them to you dw, he even tutored you because he adores likes you so much).

Essentially you’re the ‘Chaotic Small x Chill Tall’ trope.

As the years go by, and he loses touch with you (not really but he gets busier you know), he starts to miss the constant background noise of you chuckling about something you did 2 hours ago.

Now, whenever he sees you, he relishes in the glorious sight of your smile, the ethereal glint in your eyes when you recall something you did, or your day.

You laughing or not, he’ll never get sick of seeing you grin.

So he decides to make it his mission to get a smile out of you every single day. No matter what.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------- A/N: Laughinsons is now owned by me idc.

#the kid at the back #tkatb #reminder that geo is superior #crowe ichabod #jericho crowe ichabod #tkatb crowe #tkatb vn #tkatb x reader #i literally brained so hard holy shit #anyway enjoy anon! #imagine using the wrong word in the title holy fuck #i need to sleep more

[d0llcherry]

HI I SAW YOU WERE PART OF THE SMG4 FANDOM!!! IM SO HAPPI, so I was wondering if you could do a smg3 x gothic reader 😱 if u dont wanna then me understand 😼 U MAKE THE BEST FREAKING FANFICS OR WHATEVER THEIR CALLED😍

୨୧ RUNWAY WALK ✮⋆˙

SMG3 X GOTHIC READER

A/N: Me love you for requesting me thank you for appreciating me writing, me happy because you (pookie) like me (evil adhd) silly writing, me smooch you now. (Also i dont know MUCH about goth subculture so forgive me if i fuck up AURGH)

Type: Romantic, fluff, headcanons.

Warnings: only some mentions of rituals? thats it ig

Song: II Sextile - Visions of You

Playlist: Breakcore fatal frame

✮⋆˙ Code red: He is deeply in love, i repeat he is deeply in love, you have turned him into a total dog for you, YOU BROKE HIM!!! (bonus points if you are taller than him)

✮⋆˙ He really LOVES your style, clothing and makeup, ESPECIALLY your makeup, but if its before you two date he didnt admit it so he did some kind of teasing because this man was too embarrassed to tell you that he finds your "style" attractive, so instead of owning up to it he would call you "edgelord".

✮⋆˙ I think he would have complimented you without you knowing before you guys got into dating, like you know those scenes in enemies to lovers films where one of the enemies goes "you look pretty" and the other asks "huh?" and the one that said the compliment would go "i said you look shitty!"? that was you two.

✮⋆˙ I think he would be a bit of a grandpa sometimes, dont get me wrong, he knows what goth is but sometimes he may ask some questions out of pure curiosity, like: "So... do u do rituals?" and stuff, basically thinking you are into witch craft (and he will be extra convinced if you are a Victorian goth)

✮⋆˙ Ok, when you two started dating he would be ALL OVER YOU, complimenting your outfit, makeup, hair and whatever you have on, he's just head over heels on your subculture, he finds it so pretty.

✮⋆˙ I think he would be a bit flabbergasted when he first saw you without your goth makeup and fit, like he would find it a little strange when you are just wearing non-goth comfy clothes, because he got too used to you with your goth fits.

✮⋆˙ Teach him about gothic music, dances and etc and he will be 100% invested, like he would just be kicking his feet like a teenage girl while you ramble about the goth culture and its story, he really likes it.

✮⋆˙ Would probably secretly try to listen to your favorite bands, just so he could talk about them to you and he would probably like it tbh, i can see him liking those type of music tbh.

✮⋆˙ Offer him a makeover and he will just accept, say no less, like you could just text him about the makeover, he could be on the other side of the world and he would just pop into your house and be like "lets go." (OMG GOTH SMG3 AKJEKWNEKSJDJRB)

✮⋆˙ One time he tried doing his own goth makeup to surprise you but it looked like he melt grease on his face a bird shitted all over his face, it looked pretty funny but you found it very sweet.

✮⋆˙ If someone say something about your way to dress he would either just let you stand up for yourself or he would just straight up bully the person saying that they are just mad you are way cooler and prettier than them and that they wish to be so talented like you to do your makeup.

✮⋆˙ If you are or get a bit insecure go dressed in goth in public, he would reassure you are pretty no matter what you are wearing, that you look stunning in black/red and any other color and that if someone dared to open their mouth about you he would kick their ass for you.

✮⋆˙ He just loves you no matter what <3

✮⋆˙ "Yo, look at my partner, arent they cool?"

#smg3 x reader #smg3 headcanons #headcanons smg3 #smg4 smg3 #reader x smg3 #smg3 fanfiction #smg3 #x reader #fluff #romantic fic #headcanons #goth reader #୨୧ cherry works

[vaguesxrrow]

can u plsss write one about charles with an american reader? like the inspo is the olivia rodrigo song so american lol. like maybe him making fun of her accent and her doing the and back and like the differences between the two cultures?

ACTUALLY INSANEEE bc right before seeing this i was singing that song in my head (i dont listen to olivia but i probably should tbh). alsoo i wasn't sure if you wanted a fic or hcs, so i kind of made a 2 in 1. hope you dont mind! xx

a/n: im not american nor british and ive never been to the usa or the uk... so excuse any inaccuracies pleaseee

tags: g!n reader, american!reader, alive!reader

you shivered and exhaled sharply, your breath misting out in front of you. the moment you stepped outside, you knew you should have piled on more layers, but edwin had been eager in whisking everyone out the door to carry out an investigation for your current case.

you burrowed closer to charles. obviously, he couldn't provide any real body heat, but being near him was a boost in morale to keep going despite the temperature.

"alright?" he asked, putting an arm across your shoulders.

"i should've put on more layers," you grumbled.

charles laughed as he kissed the top of your head. "you can have my jacket."

shaking your head, you declined. "it's fine, it's not that cold. and besides, i wouldn't want to strip you of your british glory and your british coat."

charles snorted. "so it's my british glory, now? who was the one making fun of my accent literally just yesterday?"

"litch-rally," you parroted, grinning. "why is it that all your t's turn into ch's?"

"hey, you're one to talk - what is it you were ordering at the restaurant yesterday? a glass of wa-der, was it?"

"bite me, charles."

he raised his jacket up and engulfed you with it in a bear hug. you shrieked with laughter and wriggled in his hold, but didn't protest when he demanded you hold your arms out so he could put the jacket on you.

"what are you, a soccer player? i thought i was your [boy/girlfriend/partner], not your competition," you teased.

"soccer?" he mocked, outraged. "soccer? it's football, mate."

"mate?" you scoffed incredulously, although you were smiling. "way to friendzone me after months of dating."

"oh, come on, you know you could never get rid of me." charles pulled you in again, this time by your hand. "and for the record, you look cute wearing my clothes."

a few beats of silence, in which you two looked at each other with similar expressions of fondness and exasperation.

"yeah, okay, now get away from me, you victorian fossil." you shoved him playfully, and sprinted away to catch up with the other three. niko waved you over, giggling at charles, who was jogging to keep up.

"victorian fossil? i grew up in the 80s!" he exclaimed. "you know this!"

⌦ ---

- you do know very well that charles grew up in the 80s - you frequently ask him what it was like back then, because naturally, you'd take an interest in your boyfriend's life

- however, charles loves how you're genuinely interested, and get how watching times change can feel a bit lonely for him sometimes

- you're a great listener when it comes to this (which you think you should be greatly accredited for; charles' good looks can be very distracting at times)

- imagine: you and charles in your room as he looks around, inspecting the decor you have on display as he rambles about life in the 80s

- he tells you about a huge movie premiere he went to:

- charles: "get this, right - a ridiculously long line outside the movie theatre. the weather is absolutely miserable, and so are the people. no one's talking at all. i think everyone was just hungry - i saw this lady have tea delivered.

- you: 'i keep forgetting you have stuff like tea times. and did everyone really have the patience to wait for that long, in silence?'

- charles, with a fake american accent: yeah, dude. in silence.

- you throw a pillow at him.

- you also like telling hilariously bad jokes relating to his accent

- you: psst. charles.

- he turns towards you, already expecting another jab at his british-ness

- you: what day do british people eat the most?

- charles, in a deadpan: what day.

- you: chewsday, innit-

- he yells 'NOPE' and walks through the wall, leaving you to wheeze-laugh on your own

#charles rowland x reader #charles rowland x you #charles rowland/you #charles rowland/reader #charles rowland #dead boy detectives headcanons #dead boy detectives x reader #dead boy detectives fic #dbd #dead boy detectives

[bestboysaiki]

BUCKET LIST ☆ 15

Saiki is not so sure why you invited him and not Aiura for this. You are currently trying on different outfits, today is the day you go on the date with Toritsuka. Saiki has a sinking feeling in his stomach and he’s not so sure why. He fiddles with his fingers as a way to distract himself as he waits for you to open your bedroom door. You swing the door open and accidentally smack yourself on the face. Saiki immediately calls you an idiot while you wail and say, “this happened on my first day of school oh my God”.

Saiki is about to call you a name again but once he sees what you’re wearing, he coughs. You actually look .. maybe lovely ?

“You look decent, Toritsuka will definitely leave you after this” He comments. You froan a bit, a lightbulb going off in your head.

“Why don’t we go on a double date? I’ll call Aiura right now!” You pick up your phone. Saiki pauses before shaking his head.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea”, “Why not?” You insist, your thumb pressing against your phone.

“Let’s just hang out, you and me” Saiki insists. He is practically begging and you do not notice this because you are just so oblivious. All the damn time. You think about it for a second, then shake your head.

“I think it’s time for you to hang out with others more than me, right?’ You laugh a bit at Saiki’s face when you say that. He is so deadpanned.

But I like hanging out with you, Saiki thinks to himself.

“I mean I like that all we do is hang out with each other and stuff but” You drift off. “Why don’t we spend some time away from each other?”.

That irks Saiki pretty bad, you both don’t spend that much time together do you? It’s basically your fault, you always want to hang out with Saiki much rather than being with your alcoholic mother.

“Alright-” Saiki begins but you cut him off. “Hang out with me and Toritsuka, I think he’s trying to have his first kiss with me” You say in slight disgust which throws off Saiki. Do you not like Toritsuka? You are so hard to read sometimes.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything weird, okay?” Saiki reassures you, awkwardly patting your shoulder. You smile slightly at his gesture. He never ever touches you, except for flicking your forehead or hitting the top of your head with his fist.

“Thank you Kusuo” You grab his hand in return for his gesture, thinking he would allow this. He does not, he pulls his hand away from you.

“Call Aiura then, I’ll go with you” Saiki says in defeat, but honestly he’s just worried that Toritsuka might pull moves on you. It’s normal to be protective of your friends right?

“Awesome!” You exclaim, holding your phone up and spewing the details to Aiura. You can hear her squeal in return through the phone. Saiki sighs, why are all his friends in such pain? You come back to Saiki and look him up and down.

“Your outfit sucks, I’ll let you borrow my dad’s clothes” You say, heading out the door and looking back. You raise an eyebrow at Saiki, gesturing to him to follow you.

“I don’t want to intrude into your dad’s room” Saiki admits. Isn’t this a bit rude? He thinks to himself. You shake your head in response, your face now blank of all emotions.

“Why would it be rude? My dad is dead”.

Oh.

☆

Saiki is not one to question deaths, he rather move on and not burden the other person. But it’s you. So how could he not? You never really mentioned your parents, just that your mother is an alcoholic. Honestly, he questioned where your dad was but never verbally asked you. He thought, “Well if L/n wants me to know, they’ll tell me”. And turns out, he was kinda right. Although now he has no other details, just simply your father is dead. Saiki tries to stay out of his head as you both ride the bus. He just simply can't while wearing your dead fathers cream vest. Toritsuka had said to meet up at Neko’s cafe, he mentioned that Aiura will be waiting with him. Saiki knows they are really good friends but shouldn’t have Toritsuka picked you up? I mean, Kusuo Saiki is not a date expert but isn’t that the bare minimum? To pick up your date?

Saiki looks over at you, your hair is nicely done, unlike during school days. Your cracked lips have healed, he noticed this about a week ago but it’s still nice to see some progress. Trying not to seem creepy, his eyes shift to your legs. He counts how many bandages you slapped on to hide your yellowish bruises. Only three. Typically there’s about seven in total. Saiki still hasn't come to the conclusion of what illness you have. You haven’t told him yet. You don’t hide very well on how sick you are. Your backpack is always jiggling with pills as you skip down the hallways. Your bloodshot eyes and eyebags. Saiki decides to let you come to him first, which might not be a good idea. You are quite stubborn, and hate sharing personal information. Such as your dead father. Is Saiki the only one in the friend group who knows?

The bus comes to a stop, you tug at Saiki’s sleeve to pull him from his deep thoughts.

“We’re here” You whisper, your minty breath finding its way to Saiki’s nose. He snaps away from his thinking at the sound of your voice. He blinks, following you out of the bus. These days, it’s been feeling like he follows you everywhere and anywhere. And he’s wondering why he gets SLIGHT, not big, for anyone who wants to twist his words, SLIGHT butterflies at the sight of you smiling. He doesn’t feel this way with Kaidou, Teruhashi or any other friend. It’s definitely a new feeling that Saiki would rather not explore right now.

You halt as you both approach the entrance to Neko’s cafe. You make a disgusted look and turn to Saiki.

“This dude really chose a maid cafe to have a date at?” You scoff, stomping your foot. Saiki believes it, he’s known Toritsuka longer than you have and he’s not a bit surprised at this.

“A loser like him shouldn’t be taking out L/n, they deserve better”,. He rolls his eyes at his thought, why should he care? If you get heartbroken by a dude like Toritsuka that’s just sad and embarassing for you. Saiki wishes you had better taste in men.

“Let’s go in holding hands, let’s make this loser regret everything” You scowl, reaching out your hand and waiting for Saiki to agree. Saiki ponders for a bit, well, more like a few seconds before grabbing your hand. You are caught off guard by this, since when does this pink haired boy ever come in physical contact with you?

“Only ten more seconds” Saiki says, and you frown a bit.

Wow, where am I finding these trashy men? You think.

As you both enter, you immediately see Aiura and Toritsuka sat next to each other on a booth. Toritsuka is the first to notice you two. He waves you both over.

“Yo Saiki” He awkwardly laughs and makes a slicing motion between you and Saiki’s hands.

Oh my god, what a loser. Saiki sighs mentally, how is this purpled haired weirdo even slightly appealing to you?

Saiki decides to just sit across Aiura while you sit across.. well the other dude.

“You look good, Y/n” Toritsuka is practically foaming at the mouth while staring at you. Saiki places his chin on his palm and watches as you and the purple haired weirdo talk. He decides to block you both out, his attention on Aiura now. Aiura brought nail decals to put on Saiki, and he agrees. Might as well try to have fun while you try to have a love life.

“It bothers you?’ Aiura whispers, her eyebrows cocking up and down towards you and Toritsuka. Saiki is completely confused by her question, why would it bother him that his friend is on a date? He shakes his head in response, looking through the menu.

Coffee jelly supreme? Double the serving with extra whip cream too?

Saiki feels better now for coming to this stupid date. You look over at Saiki, whose getting his nails done by Aiura. Your smile drops.

Seriously? He lets Teruhashi get close to him and lets Aiura do his nails? You can’t even hold his hand for more than eleven seconds without him dropping your hand. You know he has been friends with them for longer than he has been friends with you but .. still? Is he not just comfortable with you yet? it’s been four months, it’s like a slow burn romance! Although there’s no romance and simply a friendship that has not blossomed fully.

“Order anything you want babe, I got it” Toritsuka pets your head. You nod and look down at the menu and .. a crepe rainbow cake! Only 918 yen! He can afford that, right?

You point at it and show Toritsuka and he immediately says “Ooo uh”. Your smile drops as he explains it’s too expensive. You frown and sink back in your seat, meeting Saiki’s eyes. His eyes show empathy, he blows on his nails before reaching in his pocket and taking out his wallet. Aiura giggles as Saiki passes you his card.

“Saiki, no way! You’re kidding”. Your face lights up as you examine the card. “Toritsuka, I might have to leave you for Saiki” You say with an obvious joking tone. Although the joke doesn’t register in Toritsuka’s head, he awkwardly laughs again but shoots Saiki a death glare. Saiki tries not to smile at your reaction, he looks away and breathes in deeply. He glances down at his nails and see the flower decals smiling at him. He looks up at Aiura who is also giving him the same silly smile. Saiki coughs to cover up his grin, watching Toritsuka try to gain your affection

How embarassing of him, honestly.

After ordering all your treats, Saiki notices a little gift bag by Toritsuka's side. He clears his throat, not knowing why he feels a bit off.

Jeez, why am I so protective over L/n, they’re just a friend.

“Tori, let me do your nails” Aiura shakes the bottle of clear nail polish, in return he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Nuh uh, i’m not doing that girly stuff” He glances over at Saiki, who shrugs his shoulders. You look over and gasp, reaching over and gently grabbing Saiki’s hand. You grab each finger individually as you inspect the stickers on his nails.

“Cute” You comment, your thumb rubbing over his fingers. Saiki feels those small butterflies in his stomach again, he pulls away as always and luckily, the waiter has came with everyone's orders.

Saiki stares at the large coffee jelly parfait infront of him, dipping his spoon in.

Worth coming here.

☆

After about half an hour later, you already devoured your crepe cake and the peach lemonade. You definitely took advantage of the fact that Saiki gave you his card. Who knows how much is on it?

Saiki feels like his stomach is about to explode. That coffee jelly parfait was way overboard. He glances over at Toritsuka, who has chocolate stains on the corners of his mouth. Saiki grimaces, watching how you giggle and offer your date a napkin.

The next thing that happens is enough for Saiki to throw up the coffee jelly.

You wipe the chocolate off Toritsukas face with the napkin. For some odd reason, he thinks this is the perfect time to lean over and give you a kiss on the nose.

Saiki grimaces again, looking over at Aiura with a look that says ,"Are you seeing this shit?”

Aiura coughs, looking at her phone. “Tori, our bus is going to leave in ten minutes” She shakes her bracelets to get his attention.

“Really, well, I’ll see you later cutie” He ruffles your hair and gives Saiki a thumbs up. Aiura squeezes your cheek and waves goodbye at Saiki.

You look over at Saiki and say, “Well, it wasn't that bad, was it?”

Saiki shrugs his shoulders, leading you out of the cafe.

“Weird how none of the employees had maid dresses on, this is a scam! We must sue” You frown, walking down the street. You are a bit too close but Saiki does not mind it as much.

“Toritsuka isn’t your type of guy” Saiki bluntly says, “What did he gift you?”.

You pull a ring out of your pocket and go “Tata”. Its a silver heart ring. The type that turn your finger green, of course.

“Interesting” Saiki murmurs, not knowing what to make out of this cheap gift.“I see you with a more sincere guy”.

“Like you?” You question, stopping in your tracks. Saiki turns to face you, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Would you want it to be me?”.

You look around sheepishly, your heart racing. You feel yourself about to stutter, a tingling sensation in your chest and fingers.

“I-”.

“Messing with you” Saiki says in a harsh tone, beginning to walk again but looking back at you.

“Right” You smile faintly while he gestures you walk to him.

“Want to hang out tomorrow?” You ask, your hands behind your back as you grin up at Saiki. He rolls his eyes and hits your head gently with his fist.

“Always”.

#the disastrous life of saiki k. #saiki k #kusuo saiki #saiki x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki kusuo x reader fanfic #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki x reader fanfic #saiki no psi nan