#wherever they are now I hope they’re happy

[bunnymajo]

What is the cast of Tenchi Muyo doing in here?????

#the penciler behind the Lisa frank elias drawing did this chapter so they’re also a Tenchi fan #wherever they are now I hope they’re happy #majobun liveblogging #tenchi muyo #archie sonic

[stylesharrys]

special smokes [weedrry]

summary: harry and y/n struggle with their self-control after sharing a joint at niall’s house party. 

word count: 3,774

warnings: mentions and consumption of marijuana (smoking a joint) and alcohol, smut; kissing, teasing, swearing, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, light spanking 

a/n: at first i had no intention of following up on weedrry and y/n but so many requested it and the more i considered it, the more ideas i kept getting hehe. they’re probably one of my favourite couples to write at this point and i have some other ideas in the woodwork for them aswell!! this is technically part two of special brownies but it can also be read as a standalone :) anyway, i hope you enjoy darlings and happy belated 420 hehe <3

//

They promised to never talk about it again. But that didn’t stop either of them lying in bed at night, reminiscing how each other tasted. It didn’t stop Harry from thinking about his roommate as he touched himself in the shower and painted the tiles with his come. Just like it didn’t stop Y/N from pretending her thick dildo was Harry’s cock when she got herself off at three in the morning.

Neither of them was aware of the other's shenanigans. Harry thought Y/N was too embarrassed to think about it and Y/N thought Harry just forgot. Of course, Tom’s none the wiser to anything that’s happened. Even living with the two, he’s yet to notice that slight shift in the atmosphere – that tension that seems to follow wherever they go together.  

And tonight is no different. They’re both slightly turned on at the thought of one another as they sit huddled around the fire in Niall’s garden. He’s one of the few friends who was sensible enough to apply for a house rather than an apartment, and Harry is always sure to reap the benefits of it. 

It’s nearly ten o’clock and the house party Niall threw for his birthday is in full swing. Y/N recognises a few faces, not nearly as many as Harry (who’s known to have been a bit of a serial dater in the past), but it doesn’t change her mood in the slightest. 

She’s been perched on a sun lounger for the past forty-five minutes, five drinks in and slowly starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol. She promised herself she wouldn’t drink too heavily tonight – not when she knows how sleepy she gets with alcohol. She doesn’t want to be found passed out on some random person's bed that Niall houseshares with. 

Harry’s been sporting the same beer for the past half an hour. Much like Y/N, he also wasn’t really in the mood to get shitfaced, despite it being his best friend's birthday. He has a job interview tomorrow afternoon and he cannot deal with cradling a hangover at the same time. 

His eyes have been on her body most of the night. Despite living together, he’s hardly seen Y/N at home in the past two weeks since… well… you know. At first, he thought she was just busy, but now he’s starting to get the idea that she’s avoiding him. 

Harry’s sure it’s down to embarrassment, and as much as he wants his friend back, he promised he wouldn’t bring it up again. He doesn’t want to embarrass Y/N any further. It hurts his ego a little bit if he’s honest. Harry struggles to understand if she’s embarrassed she slept with her friend, or if she’s embarrassed because she slept with him.

If he pulled his head out of his ass, he might realise that it’s the former. Mostly. Because the other half of what she’s feeling is pure lust. Y/N struggles to even look at Harry the same since they hooked up two weeks ago. When she looks at him, all she sees is him naked – so she’s certain he sees the same when he looks at her. 

She takes another swig of her drink in an attempt to drown the groan that tries to escape. God, it’s criminal how even just the thought of him naked manages to get her worked up like this. He’s her friend for crying out loud. She needs to get her thoughts in order.

Harry’s telling himself the same thing. Struggling to think of anything other than kissing up her smooth, exposed thighs and burying his head under her little sundress right there, in front of everyone to see. His cock stiffens slightly in his pants and he shifts a little in his chair – as discretely as he can. 

“Who’s up for a round of spin the bottle!”

The group in the garden chant a groan in unison at Niall’s suggestion. “We’re not fifteen, Ni… nobody wants to play spin the bottle.” Alfie pipes up from his crisscrossed position on the patio floor. 

Niall rolls his eyes and places an empty wine bottle in the middle of the group anyway. Involuntarily, everyone begins to form a circle around it, knees knocking as they do. Y/N remains on the deck chair, pulling the back up so she sits upright like Harry who’s still opposite her.

Niall gets comfortable on the ground, his eyes alight like a kid on Christmas. He’s about to take his turn when he furrows his brows and begins to pat down his pockets like he’s forgotten something. 

“Anybody got a smoke?”

“Nah,” Jessie calls back, “I’ve got a couple of joints, though.” 

Harry and Y/N’s eyes find one another as their bodies grow paralysed at the mention of the one thing that got them in this situation in the first place. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

“Oooh,” Niall grins, “Jessie’s got the special smokes… come on then, lad. Light ‘em up and pass ‘em around.” 

Y/N’s heart begins to thump against her ribcage as she tears her gaze away from Harry’s. There’s no way in Hell this is happening right now. She tells herself to calm down, that she doesn’t have to have a pull of the joint. 

But as it makes its way around the circle until it’s between her fingers, she finds herself taking a long, deep drag of it anyway. It burns the back of her throat, as weed always has, but she holds it for as long as she can before slowly exhaling and passing it back down to Niall who sits in front of her. 

When she lifts her gaze, her eyes lock on Harry’s. There’s a shit-eating grin on his face as he holds the second joint between his fingers – like he knows they’re going to end up in the same situation as last time and he’s more than okay with that. Harry takes a drag just as Y/N had and passes it off to Genevieve next to him. 

Harry manages to hold it in longer than Y/N can and he keeps his eyes locked on hers when he slowly exhales. When the joint makes its way back to Y/N and she’s taking her second pull, she’s giving in to all the dirty thoughts in her head. Her wicked smirk matches Harry’s now and the game of spin the bottle begins. 

Niall starts first, landing on Genevieve who he kisses quite happily. Gen spins and lands on Jessie. Then when Jessie spins, he lands on… Y/N. 

Her eyes are quick to flicker between him and Harry as she registers the situation. There’s a third and fourth joint passing through the group and for a moment, she’s too stoned to realise what’s going on. 

There’s a look on Harry’s face, though – an unamused one. His jaw is set tightly and his brows are gently pinched as he watches Jessie approach Y/N with a lopsided grin. He doesn’t understand why anger begins to bubble in the pit of his stomach. And Y/N doesn’t understand why she feels so weird about being kissed by someone else in front of him. 

But she welcomes Jessie’s lips against hers anyway. It’s soft, gentle. He’s not a bad kisser, but after a few seconds, he pulls away and hands her the joint before returning to his seat. She looks to Harry again with pursed lips and he’s chewing at the inside of his cheek. 

Y/N takes another pull for the joint and reaches for the bottle when Niall’s hand on hers stops her. 

“I have an idea to make this more interesting.” 

She looks at him, eyebrow raised. 

“You have to hook up with the person it lands on.”

Her eyes widen and a laugh rumbles from her chest. “Niall, you can’t make me hook up with anyone. That’s not how this game works. You’re not fucking Cupid.” 

Niall frowns, displeased by her attitude. He crosses his arms over his chest and pinches the joint from her fingers, huffing. “Fine.” 

Y/N spins the bottle, leaning back as she watches it rotate until it lands on Harry. His eyes are on hers, hungry. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat, stepping between people as she approaches him. 

Harry cranes his head up, still not entirely happy that she kissed Jessie, but he welcomes her mouth on his instantly. They’re lustful, almost forgetting their surroundings as Harry swipes his tongue across her bottom lip. She’s about to do the same, to tangle her fingers in his hair when whistling and cheering breaks them apart. 

They’re both incredibly flushed and hot as Y/N moves back to her seat, licking over her bottom lip for another distant taste of him. Harry’s no better, his cock beginning to swell. He clears his throat and leans down to take his turn.

There’s a resounding gasp as it lands on Y/N and they're forced to kiss again, this time Harry approaching Y/N and kissing her a little hungrier. When she spins her turn, it lands back on Harry and the group is growing both tired and a little suspicious of the game. 

It gets harder and harder for them to keep their hands to themselves. The stolen kisses feed the fire in their bellies and Niall is quick to call off the game and suggest some truth or dare instead, like the fifteen-year-old he seems to be. 

Both Y/N and Harry hardly listen to the game unfold. Both are too stoned and lust-filled to pay attention to anything. They’re stealing glances from across the circle, sharing knowing looks that they’re both desperate to escape everyone else and hide away together somewhere. 

It goes on like this for another ten minutes and pinching the joint from Niall’s hand, Harry takes initiative and stands from his chair. “Y/N, shall we go and sort out Ni’s present now?” 

He’s got a brow raised expectantly and her eyes widen at his little fib. They both miss the way Niall looks between them with a beaming smile full of excitement. 

“You’s got me a present?” 

Y/N blinks, finally looking at her friend. “Oh, yeah! Sorry, we completely forgot. Do you mind if we get it sorted? It’s not quite finished yet.” She lies through her teeth. 

Harry’s smirk grows tenfold at the way she plays along with the little game and Niall nods his head. 

“Thanks, Ni,” Harry says kindly, voice a bit condescending but Niall’s too stoned to notice. “Do you mind if I smoke this in the house?” 

Niall waves his hand dismissively. “I don’t care, I do it all the time.” 

Harry looks back to Y/N, tilting his head to the door with a smirk. She follows him inside, giddy with lust and anticipation. He takes her hand in his, guiding her as he weaves through other party-goers until they reach the stairs. It’s a little quieter when they reach the top, Harry opening doors and quickly closing them when he finds they’re already occupied. 

He’s growing frustrated, only one room left that he hasn’t checked – Niall’s room. He tugs them both inside when he realises it’s empty, closing and locking the door behind them. Harry takes a pull of the joint and leaves it hanging between his lips as his fingers work on the buttons at the top of Y/N’s sundress. 

She’s full of adrenaline and arousal, unable to think clearly – her mind far too consumed by lust. Harry pops open just enough buttons to reveal her bare chest, breasts exposed to his hungry eyes and he groans. 

Taking the joint from his lips, he brings it to Y/N’s, encouraging her to take a hit. She does as instructed as Harry’s hands find her tits, kneading softly before he leans down to envelop her left nipple in his warm mouth. 

She exhales the smoke a bit prematurely, taking another pull to make up for it and with her free hand, her fingers tangle into his brown locks. 

“Harry,” she breathes and it’s like crack to him; hearing his name tumble off her lips like that. God, he wants that on repeat in his mind forever. 

He nips at the underswell of her breast, pinching the perk nipple between his fingers. “What do you want?” he mumbles against the fleshy skin.

Y/N tugs at the roots of his hair, forcing his head up until their eyes are level. She places the joint between his lips now and slowly begins to sink to her knees. 

“I want to taste you.” 

Harry’s eyes are blown and bloodshot as she begins to unbutton his pants, shimmying them down his thighs just enough to allow his cock to spring free. He’s bigger than she remembers him to be; thick and full and his ruddy tip begins to leak with arousal.

Y/N laps at his slit, allowing herself a taste. It’s an unholy sight – the way her breasts gently move as she closes her mouth around him. In Harry’s intoxicated state, everything feels so much more heightened. Her mouth feels warmer, wetter… the whole thing feels filthy and he loves it. 

She’s pressing slopping kisses along the length of him, angling her face to take his balls into her hot mouth as she pays them a little more attention. She pulls off him with a gentle kiss, staring up with doe eyes and a devilish grin. 

“Fuck my throat.”

Harry could’ve come there and then, hearing those words fall from her lips. He takes another drag of the joint before pinching it back between his fingers and placing his open palms on the side of her head – the smoke from the joint no doubt clinging to her hair. 

If she was sober, she’d tell him off for it. But she’s not and she doesn’t. 

Instead, she relaxes her jaw as her mouth opens and her tongue lays flat as Harry guides his cock back to the waiting hole. Taking a shaky breath, his hips slowly begin to move, getting her used to his size until he picks up momentum. 

Y/N’s eyes begin to sting, tears welling and his head hits the back of her throat, knocking the air from her lungs. Harry grows faster, eager. His chest is heaving and his lips part as he fucks into her. 

It’s obscene, the noises her throat makes as he shoves himself further down with every snap of his lips. Strings of saliva begin to drip from the corners of Y/N’s mouth as she gags around him, her throat contracting as she splutters on his cock. 

“Taking me so fucking well, baby.”

The praise goes straight to her cunt, wetness seeping through her little panties with every syllable he throws her way. Her eyes are shut tight now, unable to keep them open as Harry uses her for his own pleasure. 

It’s sloppy and messy and needy. Neither of them have experienced anything so fucking sexy in their lives. The sex was good before, but this time – sneaking around and much higher than previously – it’s even more intense. 

It doesn’t take much for Harry to near his end. And when Y/N cradles his heavy balls in her hand, fingernails ghosting over the divots of skin, Harry’s certain he’s about to meet his maker. 

He pulls out of her mouth harshly, not giving her the chance to tell him she needs his cum drowning her throat. His arousal is too quick to paint her chest, coating her nipples in creamy ecstasy as Y/N struggles to catch her breath. 

He comes, a lot, but his stamina doesn’t falter. She’s barely given chance to admire the artwork he marked her with before he’s tugging her up by the crook of her elbow. Y/N’s shoved against the foot of the bed, legs spread and ass in the air, tummy on the mattress. 

Harry’s hands are hungry on her hips, bunching up the bottom of her sundress until it rests on her lower back. He feels over her subtle asscheeks, offering three spanks to her left and whimpering as the fleshy skin wobbles. 

“Harry, please.”

She’s whining now, eager to be filled again. Harry tugs her little thong to the side, her cunt glistening and puffy from neglect. He wants to taste her, spend an eternity between her soaked thighs but the way Y/N wiggles her hips and backs up against him suggests she needs something more right now. 

“I just wanna taste you for a bit,” he says. 

She’s shaking her head, despite how badly she wants to feel him lapping up her pussy. She’s far too soaked and horny to settle for his tongue right now.

“Next time.”

Harry’s heart races a little at that. Next time? So, she plans for there to be. Not that Harry has a problem with it. He’d be more than fucking happy to make this a regualr thing if she wanted it. 

Listening to her request, he lines his head with her entrance, pushing through her folds to coat himself in her slickness. Her legs are trembling in need, face smushed into the blanket and she knows she’s ruining it with her makeup and the come that covers her tits, but she cannot bring herself to care. 

With the joint still between his fingers, Harry brings it back to his lips for another drag. He lines himself back with her puckering hole and gentle sheaths inside. She’s tight – tighter than he remembers – and her walls are so fucking slick it feels like he’s being swallowed whole. 

A shriek escapes Y/N’s mouth at the familiar intrusion, the way he stretches and fills her to the brim. Her mind feels dizzy, vision dotting with white lights as Harry begins to fuck the soul out of her. 

It’s fast and deep, and she’s quick to soak his pubic bone with arousal. Harry leans over her body, guiding the joint to her lips, allowing her a puff. “Hold onto that for me, gorgeous.” 

She takes it from her lips and stretches her arm above her head, wrist against the blanket and joint pointing in the air. His hands are back on her hips as he grips her tight. 

“Good girl, angel.” 

Smack!

His pace is criminal, balls slapping against her throbbing clit with every hit of his hips that he delivers. She’s struggling to stay coherent, unable to string a sentence together as she begs him for more, more, more. 

Harry grips her hips hard, bringing her cunt to him as he fucks into her. Y/N’s body is limp — lets him use her as a toy for his own pleasure and takes whatever he offers. 

She shouldn’t enjoy this so much, getting fucked by her friend, her roommate. But it’s too good to realise they’re stepping on dangerous territory. With the promise of next time. 

“Tight little cunt was fucking made for me.” 

“It’s yours! I’m yours!” 

Her words are a struggle to speak, heart in her throat as her pussy drips for him. It’s too much for Harry. To see her so bare and willing and done for him. To know the affect he has on her, to be buried so fucking deep in her cunt that she can hardly talk. 

His orgasm creeps up on him quickly, cock twitching within the tight confinements of her walls. She feels it, she feels everything. And it only spurs her release on, too. 

Her cunt clenches around him, legs beginning to tremble and a wanton cry crawls out from her lips. “I’m gonna come!” 

Harry keeps his pace steady, coaxes her through it with deep and precise strokes. The tip of his cock continues to pinch at her cervix, the curve in his length rubbing deliciously against her g-spot. 

Y/N shudders around him, desperate to milk him for all he’s got as she explodes. She’s quick to bury her face into the blanket, muffling her screams as her vision spots black and white kaleidoscopes behind her eyes. 

“Give it to me, baby. Come all over me… that’s it.” 

He’s quick to follow, bursts of hot come painting the walls of her cunt and Harry stills inside of her, knees buckling as he tries to keep himself steady. 

It’s quiet for a moment, save for their heavy breathing and wheezing chests. 

It must be true what they say about post-nut clarity. Because as they come down from their highs, there’s a tension in the room that’s far too suffocating. And it only gets worse when Harry slowly pulls out of her cunt and leaves her bent over Niall’s bed, dripping onto the blanket beneath her. 

Harry clears his throat as he tucks himself back into his pants and watches Y/N wobble to her feet as she stands. They don’t look at each other, at least not face-to-face. 

Her tits are still out and his arousal on her chest has transferred to the blanket. She's quick to fix her dress and her underwear — more than a little uncomfortable with the feeling of Harry’s come dribbling out of her. 

She gnaws on the inside of her cheek. “We should leave separately, so no one suspects anything.” 

Harry’s not given much time to confer before she shimmies out of Niall’s room and down the hall to the closest bathroom. He’s left there, slightly stunned and a little embarrassed. It’s a bit confusing, it didn’t feel like a mistake after the last time. But now, with how quickly she wanted to leave, Harry worries she regrets it. 

He scratches at the back of his head, wincing at the sight of Niall’s blanket. There’s come stains on the green fabric and the joint that Y/N was supposed to hold had been dropped mid-orgasm and burnt a small hole through the blanket. 

Deciding it would be best to just replace it, Harry bunches the blanket up into a ball and shoves it in the trash can in the corner of the room — making a mental note to buy Niall a new one. 

It’s the least of his concerns, though. 

Because despite Harry’s worry about Y/N’s regret, he still craves her touch and her presence. And she’s just the same — cleaning herself up in the bathroom and splashing water in her face to try to calm down. 

All she can think about is how much she needs him and it doesn’t feel just sexual anymore. For either of them. 

What the hell have they gotten themselves into? 

//

let me know what you thought :)

tags: @stilesissaved @kiwitsayedsugar @savannahwendel @triski73 @stylesfever @kissfromadove

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #imagine harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles angst

[forever-rogue]

Hi! If you’re taking requests then can I please ask for you to write a Joel x Reader one where Joel and Reader have been dating for a long time and are now finally happily living in Jackson (with Ellie), and it was all going fine until Joel’s PTSD is randomly triggered and he accidentally hurts Reader when she touches him as a way to check on him and offer him comfort like she normally would do during one of his panic attacks?

Like maybe they’re at a family bbq (with Tommy and his wife) or the bar or even at their own home when something — whether it be a certain sound, smell, word, etc. — triggers him to the point where he is totally out of it and gets startled when Reader touches him, causing him to slightly hurt her by grabbing her wrist or whatnot because he mistakes her as a threat. Once he snaps out of his PTSD episode, he immediately feels horrible and regretful despite how much Reader tries to assure him that she’s okay and it wasn’t his fault. But it’s not enough; he starts to distant himself out of fear that he’d potentially hurt her again and out of fear that he’d finally done something enough that’ll make her want to leave him. Reader catches on though and then does her best to make Joel realize that she doesn’t blame him for what happened, she’ll always be there for him — through the good, bad, and ugly —, and she’ll never leave him because he’s the love of her life. Just basically a whole lot of hurt and comfort (with a hint of angst and fluff) lol.

(Ah, I’m so sorry that this ended up being such an annoyingly long and detailed ask! I was struggling with how to express my idea in words, and just ended up rambling… I hope it’s okay! 😭 Please feel free to change anything — you’re incredibly talented, so I completely trust your wherever your creativity takes you if you choose to write this).

Anyway! Thank you so much for writing and sharing all of your stories — your writing is truly outstanding and really just your account as a whole is one of my absolute favorites! 🫶🏻

AN | Please, this is so cute but sad, but there’s also a happy ending 💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Mentions of PTSD

Word Count | 2.8k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Think you made enough food?” you felt Joel’s arm at the small of your back as you set up the desserts you had made. You turned to him and pretended to huff before playfully swatting his hand away, “I think you’ve got enough for the whole of Jackson.”

“I never hear you complaining, Joel Miller,” you grabbed one of the chocolate cookies you’d made and took a bite before offering half to him. He playfully bit it out of your hand, causing you to giggle at him, “no manners, Mr. Miller. None at all!”

“I,” he mumbled through a mouth of cookie, “am a perfect gentleman, darlin’.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” you uncovered the rest of the baked goods you’d prepared and marveled at your handiwork, “this is a family barbeque but you know that basically means everyone will be here since we’re all basically one big, weird family. Hence, I made plenty.”

“What’s a smart woman like you doing with a fool like me?” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in a for a sweet kiss, practically beaming when you pulled back, “baby.”

"Don't baby me, Miller," you planted a playful, sloppy kiss on his cheek, "go on and help your brother with the barbecue so we can actually eat."

"Fine," he clutched at his heart as he scoffed before making his way over to Tommy. You couldn't help but watch him go, shaking your head in amusement. This man.

-

The world might have been different from how it once used to be, but one of the things that never changed was the love of fireworks. Jimmy and Sandra had somehow managed to come up with a cache of them on one of their last trips out of Jackson. 

Naturally, the brilliant idea that they could be used at the barbecue was proposed and it wasn't hard to convince the younger Miller brother to go ahead with it. Under controlled circumstances, it would all be fine. 

And realistically it should have been fine…you had no reason to think that it wouldn't be. But life didn't seem to agree with you and had a completely different idea. 

You were standing with Ellie, your arms wrapped around her shoulders and you hugged onto her, waiting to see all the pretty fireworks. It hit you then and there - Ellie had never seen fireworks before! The idea in and of itself seemed wild. 

Her entire face was lit up from her big smile and the sparkling lights as the two of you watched the ones Tommy had set off. 

"Pretty cool, huh?" You pressed a kiss to the top of her head before realizing that something, or someone rather, was missing, "I'm going to go and find Joel. I'll be right back!"

Ellie was so distracted that she didn't even take much note of you leaving. It only took a few minutes before you found him near the back of the house, picking at something from one of the tables, or so you thought anyway.

"Babe?" You weren't sure if he could hear you over the clambering of the crowd and the fireworks; he didn't turn around. You walked closer to him and reached for him, "Joel?"

And then it happened all at once; he turned around and grabbed your wrist, twisting your arm at a painful angle and causing you to cry out. His eyes were dark but there was nothing there, just an empty hollowness. 

“Joel!” you tried to pull out of his tight grip but that only made things more painful. He wasn’t letting go and you didn’t know what to do - he clearly wasn’t him right now. You struggled with him for a few moments before you heard someone running up and yelling at Joel to stop. 

You looked up and felt a wave of relief wash over your body when you realized it was Tommy. If there was anyone that could help in this situation, it would be him. Tommy managed to pry Joel’s hands off you, the sheer force causing you to stumble backwards and fall onto your butt. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tommy’s hands were on Joel’s shoulders as he tried to get him to snap out of his trance. You’d never seen him like this and it was as scary as it was heartbreaking. You didn’t fully know what was going on but you had a fairly good guess, “Joel, this isn’t real, it’s just a memory. You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re at home with us.”

That seemed to quell him even if it was the slightest bit and he shook his head, almost as if he was trying to shake whatever was going on off. 

“Breathe in and out slowly,” Tommy had a calming effect on your boyfriend who seemed to relax, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly, “look around, we’re at home, we’re safe.”

Tommy took a few steps back and looked at you, an apologetic expression on his face. You swallowed the lump in your throat and as he held out his hand to help you to up and to your feet. Once you were back up, you looked over at Joel to find looking between you and Tommy,

“Joel?” your voice almost cracked as you subconsciously at your sore wrist and sore. His eyes darted to the sore area that was already red and starting to swell. 

His jaw clenched as he let out a long sigh, hanging in head in exhaustion and shame, “I’m…I’m okay.”

Tommy hesitated for a moment before gently wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “let me take you and Ellie home.”

“But-”

“Please?” he asked softly, offering you a pointed look. You realized what he was trying to convey and nodded before letting him lead you away, “I’ll be right back, big brother.”

You cast one last look at Joel but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. Your heart broke a little bit, but you kept repeating to yourself that everything would be alright. This was just a small bump in the road.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you woke up the following morning, you found yourself alone in bed, Joel’s side still made up and cold. He hadn’t come to bed. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes before putting on your slippers and padding down the hall. You poked your head into Ellie’s bedroom and found the girl fast asleep still; at least she was getting some rest. 

You decided to start a pot of coffee and made your way to the kitchen; when you stepped inside you found him sitting at the table and staring at his hands. You relaxed ever so slightly when you realized he was home…but something was definitely still going on. 

“Joel?” you’d been so quiet that he hadn’t heard you come in, but his head snapped up and looked at you, “h-hey, my love.”

He inhaled shakily before looking you over, his entire face turning into a grimace at the angry haze of bruising on your arm. You realized what he was looking at and moved to tuck your arm behind your back. 

“I hurt you,” was all he managed to see before you could see that his eyes were glistening with tears. You took a few steps closer and shook your head fervently, but he recoiled from you, “I did that to you.”

“No,” the fact that he tried to shy away from you didn’t stop you from getting closer, “you didn’t hurt me - that wasn’t you.”

“It was me,” gingerly, he reached for your hand and pulled out your arm so he could look it over properly. In between the marks you could see the fingerprints etched in there, “if it wasn’t me, who did this to you?”

“Baby-”

“I hurt you,” he repeated, “all because I couldn’t handle the sound of some fuckin’ fireworks.”

“Stop,” you crouched down so you could look up at him since he refused to do so, “please. It wasn’t your fault, and I don’t blame you for this. No one should - it was an unfortunate thing but it’s over and done with this and this bruising will heal and go away. But I am never going away, and if you think this one little thing will do that, then you don’t know me very well.”

“I had no control over what happened,” he was willing to concede at least that much, “and that’s what scares me. What if it happens again? What if it gets even worse the next time? What if-”

“Joel,” you reached up and put your hand on his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek, “you can’t think like that. It’s not healthy….just because it happened once doesn’t mean it will happen again. And, if for some reason it does, we’ll take it one day at a time.”

He reached up and gently removed your hand from his face, causing you to frown deeply, “I can’t trust myself around you. If anything ever happened to you or to Ellie, I would never forgive myself.”

“Joel-”

“I need some air,” he stood up and gently brushed past you, walking outside and into the backyard. You remained rooted in your spot, but sighed heavily, blinking back the tears that threatened to well up. 

Things would be okay, you knew they would…they had to be. Right? Right.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel was still with you, but you could slowly see him growing more and more distant as the days wore on. Despite your reassurances that you were okay, and you still loved him more than anything, it was like he became a shell of his former self. And it wasn’t just with you, which was a bit of reassurance that it wasn’t just you, but it was with everyone. You wished there was something you could do that would easily get him back to his former self. Just as your arm grew better and less bruised, he continued to pull away and create a barrier between the two of you. 

One late night, as you laid in bed reading due to your inability to sleep, Joel came in and slowly closed the door behind him, and leaned against it. When he cleared his throat, you looked up and saw a serious expression on his face. He looked just as tired as you felt. 

“What’s up?” you asked softly as you closed your book and gently set it to the side. He remained silent for a few moments, clearly searching for the right words. Once a few moments of tense silence passed he finally looked at you, "hmm?"

"I've been thinkin'," he shoved his hands into pockets. You sat up straighter and tried to push down the nagging feeling that was already forming in your tummy, "and I think it's best…I should go."

"Go?" You parroted, not fully understanding what he was talking about, "what do you mean, Joel?"

"Go," he waved his hand around, "I don't think I should be here with you and Ellie anymore."

"Oh. Oh," you frowned at him, "so you're just going to up and leave."

"Baby, I - it's not like that," he insisted softly but you weren't just about to let him go. Not that easily, "this is what's best."

You scoffed at him, not even bothering to hide your disappointment, "that's what's best, huh? For who? For who is it best? You?"

"Best for everyone."

"Well that is just a straight up lie," you got out of bed and walked over to him, crossing your arms over his chest, "its not what's best for me at all. Or Ellie."

"Baby," it was softer and much more gentle, and almost resigned in a way.

"Listen - this time I need you to listen to me," you stood in front of him, firm and tall, "this has been going on for weeks now and I'm not just going to let you keep continuing on like this."

"I just…I wouldn't forgive myself if I ever did anything to you or hurt you in any way possible," you could see his Adam's apple bobbing, "its already hard enough knowing that I did." 

"Look," you pulled back the sleeve of your sweater and held up your arm. When he refused to acknowledge what you were doing you kept a cool and even tone, "look at me."

Reluctantly he allowed himself to look at your arm, at the place he had once hurt you. Your arm was back to normal and no remnants of what had once happened. He wrapped his fingers gingerly around your wrist as he tenderly turned your arm to get a better look at it. 

"There's nothing there," you pointed out softly, "and it doesn't hurt at all. I don't think about it anymore and I don't…I never blamed you and I was never scared of you."

"You're saying that now…but what if it happens again?" You could see the genuine concern in his eyes as you reached up and gently touched his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, something he'd denied himself for what seemed like an eternity by that point.

"If it does, we'll figure it out," you meant every word you said and you hoped he knew that, "Joel, life isn't always easy and it's not always fun. But just because one hard or bad thing happened doesn't mean I'm just going to walk away. That's not who we are and that's not what we do. I'm with you forever and nothing is going to change that."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, in search of the right thing to say. Instead of verbalizing all that he was feeling, he bowed his head and pressed his forehead to yours.

"If it was me that happened to and I hurt you, would you want me to just leave?" You asked softly and you could feel the shake of his head.

"Of course not," he insisted, "it wouldn't…it would have been an accident."

"Exactly," you whispered, "how do you think I feel about you? I'm not going to let you just go. Not without a fight."

"Really?"

"Of course," you took his face in your hands and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, "I love you, silly man. Nothing is ever going to change that. We'll be together through the good and the bad, through thick and thin. All of it."

And that was what seemed to break him. You could hear him sniffle lightly before a few tears rolled down his cheek. You gently brushed them away before making a small sound of reassurance at him. 

"I love you, baby," he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his warm, soft body. You felt him relax into your touch as you looped your arms around his shoulders and tucked yourself into his body as best as possible. You could tell that he needed this just as much as you did; he was practically melting into your body, "so much."

"I love you," it was a sentiment whispered in his ear so only he could hear it,"so, so much my love."

"When I hurt you I just…I got so worried."

"It's understandable," you insisted, "anyone would feel that way. But I want you to also understand that I love you and that nothing is ever going to change that."

"I know," a huff of laughter escaped him, "I've always known that."

"Good," you gave him the beaming smile that he still managed to fall in with over and over again, "because I've always known that you love me too. I can't promise everything, but I can promise you one thing."

"What's that?" He trailed his fingers against your jaw.

"That we'll always be together," you pressed kisses to both of his cheeks, "and we'll get through anything. And that I will always love you."

"That's three things," he teased, a glimpse of his true self coming though.

"Joel!" You were laughing though and he loved that sound, "get the sentiment though."

"I do," he agreed gently, "I love you."

"I love you too, Joel Miller."

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #tlou

[grandline-fics]

All That I Need

DESCRIPTION: When your presence is all they crave

WARNINGS:  Just fluff

CHARACTERS: Sabo, Sanji |Luffy,Zoro,Shanks

WORD COUNT: 1,107

A/N: Hope everyone has a wonderful and happy New Year. Be safe however you celebrate.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

——————

SABO

The role of Chief of staff to the Revolutionary Army was one Sabo would never give up. To even consider that would be laughable to him. Yes it was dangerous at times and hard work but a difference was being made and it was rewarding. However on long missions like these that took him away from you on extended periods of time his resolve did get tested. On the one hand the growing agitation of being away from you could at times make him distracted but on the other hand the anticipation of being in your presence again was a very strong motivator to get the mission finished as soon as possible.

It was a blessing in disguise that the events on Dressrosa greatly intensified for Sabo just when his need to hurry things along was reaching its limit. Reuniting with Luffy and the chance to get Ace’s devil fruit steeled his mind to keep on track enough until everything was completed. Satisfied that he had done all he needed to and that Luffy was safe he finally made the return to the Revolutionary base. When he set his feet on the island he considered home he couldn’t keep the grin off of his face, knowing that finally seeing you would be only minutes away and no longer days or weeks.

Knowing he had one more duty to conclude he ran as fast as he could to Dragon’s office, the small line of line coming from beneath the door telling him his commander was still awake. Sabo barely knocked once before entering and rattled through a condensed and hurried summary of the mission and its success in record time. Dragon was used to this by now, all too aware of the childlike giddiness that took over his second in command when every fibre in his body was being pulled to wherever you were in desperation. “Just go Sabo, but just be mindful that they’re sleeping.”

Sabo’s face fell into a heavy pout as he left the room and walked to the living quarters he shared with you. Logically he told himself that you’d both been apart for long enough that the rest of the night wouldn’t be too long of a wait by comparison. Then again logic wasn’t his priority. He needed to be with you, his whole body compelled him to be near you now. When he entered your shared bedroom he took in your peaceful sleeping form and felt his heart race just a little faster. Quickly shedding his coat, gloves and boots he climbed into the bed instead of doing his usual nighttime routine and wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you as humanly possible against his chest while he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. 

“Welcome back Chief…” he grinned at your greeting, slurred and heavy with sleep. Lightly he pressed a kiss against your shoulder as your fingers found their way into his blond hair and curled against the nape of his neck. As you felt Sabo’s body relax on top of yours as sleep finally claimed him you let your mind linger just a little longer on the edge of consciousness. As much as you wanted to go back to sleep your body needed to anchor yourself to him too, to keep him close and take in his warmth and the feel of him again for as long as possible.

SANJI

Cooking was his passion and he’d never want to do anything else. However on a day like this he did resent it just a little. With a feast to beat all other feasts needing to be made it meant he was practically a prisoner in his own kitchen with no end to the meals he had to make in sight. Damn Luffy for making such a huge declaration with very little time to prepare and after such a long battle it meant he hadn’t seen you in what felt like a lifetime. With a heavy pout he tried to make the food as quickly as possible while still ensuring it was the best quality as always. The only problem was he couldn’t stop thinking about you. 

He wanted to see your face, hear your voice and laugh, embrace the feeling of your presence that he just could never get enough of. When he first met you he fell hard and knew that what he felt for you was far different than any other passing infatuation he’d experienced. Something told him that this was real and he made sure to enjoy every day with you being on the crew. It was just a shock but a very pleasant one that you also developed feelings for him too during the adventures on the crew and not once did he ever take it for granted. 

At the sound of the door opening, Sanji turned ready to yell at Luffy to get out and wait patiently for the feast he was so desperate for only for his anger to die at the sight of you entering the room. Immediately he felt his legs carry him away from the stoves to meet you halfway, the excitement on his face unshakable and infectious as you returned the grin he had. His arms slipped around your body and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head and letting out a soft hum of contentment when your arms tightened around him. “Need any help?” You offered, looking up to smile at him. 

“Just having you here is all the help I need, love.” Sanji told you gratefully, pressing one more kiss against your temple before reluctantly pulling away to tend to the mountain of food that still needed to be made. Having the brief moment would be enough to keep him sated until he was done. His heart skipped when you followed closely behind him and tucked yourself against his side. “Everything okay?” He asked, glancing down to see you look over his food in appreciation and a content smile on your lips. 

“I’m great, I just know how Luffy’s spontaneity for this feast ruined any plans we had for today.” You told him, leaning your head against his chest. “Plus I missed you.” Sanji couldn’t help but beam at your words. He knew out of the two of you, he could seem the more invested one and sometimes clingy or overly affectionate so it was rewarding to hear you missed him just as much as he had been missing you. Overwhelmed with his rush of emotions he abandoned the food for another brief moment to lean down and kiss you deeply.  

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fic #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #sabo #sabo x reader #sabo x you #sabo x y/n #revolutionary sabo #one piece sabo #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji vinsmoke #sanji #sanji x you #sanji x y/n

[tenmissedcalls]

What a Shame

So you’re just friends. Only friends. And you’ve spent months convincing yourself you’re okay with that. (min ho x reader)

wc: 1.4k~

an: so i really didn’t think i would get this invested in this show... but here we are. this is a warmup for a longer fic i might end up posting. enjoy!

You’re starting to regret agreeing to come to this party.

The music is loud, bass pumping in your veins while you down your third mocktail of the evening. You’ve been camped out by the bar this entire evening, and you’re pretty sure the bartender is starting to feel bad for you. But Kitty and Q are nowhere to be seen, and your nerves get the better of you every time you consider joining the crowds on the dance floor.  

It doesn’t help that you’re increasingly insecure about getting all dressed up just to sit in the corner all night. Q had absolutely gushed over your outfit when you arrived, but suddenly it feels tight in all the wrong places and it hadn’t even been worth it, not when the guy you’d been hoping to notice you has barely looked your way all evening. 

But he certainly noticed Kitty, you think, trying to quell the bitter feelings roiling in your stomach. Not that you blame him. She looks incredible, really, and you’re more than happy for her that she’s starting to move on. You’ve never thought of yourself as the jealous type. It just has your mind turning over itself anxiously and you wave down the bartender for another mocktail to bury your feelings in.

This really isn’t your scene. You’re starting to consider taking the walk back to your dorm, given your curfew has already come and gone. You’re sure your friends wouldn’t mind, wherever they are. So you slide off the bar stool, legs stiff from sitting still for so long, when suddenly a hand grabs yours and you’re pulled face-to-face with a clearly intoxicated Kitty.

“How many drinks have you had?” you ask her, voice raised over the noise. Your mouth pulls itself into a frown when you smell the alcohol on your breath, and you do your best to steer her over to a chair. 

“Only… thirteen?” she begins, and the evident panic on your face has her own eyes widening. “No! Thirteen sips, not drinks. Thirteen sips,” she clarifies, and you heave a sigh in relief. You’re not even sure where she’s getting the alcohol from, but you’re sure more than enough students have smuggled in flasks of vodka.

“Are you having fun?” she shouts, louder than she has to, and now your expression is turning back into a frown. It’s not that you’re not trying - you’ve been to more than a few parties, and they’re usually enjoyable enough. But tonight is different, for reasons you can’t really put a finger on. 

Kitty notices immediately, even though she’s clearly verging on more than tipsy at this point. Her eyes narrow, and you try to backtrack as quickly as you can by forcing a smile onto your face.

“No! Yes. Yes, I’m having fun,” you blurt out, even though you’re starting to get a headache and the lights on the dance floor suddenly seem far too bright. 

Kitty shakes her head. “Don’t lie to me,” she pouts, and you suppress your laughter. “I know how to make you feel better- go find Min Ho,” she says, oblivious to the effect his name has on you.

Suddenly, you’re frozen. Right - he’s the reason you even came to this party in the first place (not that you want to admit it). It’s a strange dichotomy, the way he has you on edge and yet you’ve never felt more at ease than when you’re with him. And almost like it’s fate, you look up and there he is in the crowds.

He looks… good. Far too good. It’s unfair, really, the way he seems to glow in the lights. It’s effortless for him, the way his confidence spills over itself on the dance floor. You think you could lose yourself forever in the cut of his jawline and the spread of his shoulders. You don’t even like the color of the suit he’s wearing and yet he’s pulling it off in a way that makes you weak in the knees. You find yourself wishing for some of the alcohol that Kitty’s been drinking, because your nerves have your stomach twisting itself into knots.

“What do you mean?” you ask Kitty, voice wavering. She rolls her eyes like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is - you feel like you’ve never been vulnerable than when you look at him.

“You like him, don’t you? Go dance with him,” she says like she’s stating something as undeniable as the fact that the sky is blue. You stare at her, bewildered, for long enough that she physically grabs you and pushes you gently toward the dance floor. You don’t even dance, you think distantly to yourself. 

You forget that Kitty has this innate ability to pick up on people’s feelings - not that you’re willing to believe have any for him. Yes, he’s so pretty it makes your chest hurt. Yes, you’ve found yourself laughing at his stupid jokes in chemistry class more than you’d like to admit. Yes, you think that underneath his layers and layers of charm and charisma and defensiveness, he’s sweet and funny and smarter than he gives himself credit for. Yes, maybe you’d like to think that between the lingering glances and the lingering touches and the way he smiles at you, he’s caught feelings too. But you also know he’s not the type for commitment, and you’ve entrenched yourself firmly in the friend zone before he can hurt you. You can’t help but compare yourself to all the others falling over themselves for his attention, either.

So you’re just friends. Only friends. And you’ve spent months convincing yourself you’re okay with that.

And then you’re there, pulled into the mass of people dancing. Whatever song is playing is the kind that’ll be stuck in your head for the next week, and when you suck in a breath it tastes like teenage mistakes and rose-tinted memories. It’s almost overwhelming, and you lose sight of him immediately, until-

“You’re here!” 

His hand is on your elbow as he pulls you through the crowd, and the physical contact feels like pure electricity running through your nerves. His mouth curls into a smile at the sight of you, and it’s like it’s just the two of you on the dance floor all of the sudden. You don’t know whether you love or hate the fact that he has this effect on you.

“I couldn’t miss the best party of the year, could I?” you tell him, tilting your head up to look at him. 

Oh.

It’s like he’s drinking in the sight of you, eyes dragging up and down your face and lingering far too long on your lips. You wonder how embarrassing it would be if your legs gave out right now. 

“You… haven’t had anything to drink, have you?” you ask, voice strained, even though you know he would never, especially at his own party. He laughs.

“Of course not. Why do you ask?” he replies, leaning down ever so slightly, and the sudden eye contact has you flustered beyond belief. “What’s got you so shy all of a sudden? Is it me? I have that effect on people.”

“No! Of course not-” you sputter, although you’re sure he can see right through you. Normally you’d laugh his cockiness off, but something about being in such close proximity to him has your thoughts scrambled. Your mind races to think of an excuse for your jitteriness. “I just - we’re trying to help Kitty have her first kiss, and -”

You slap a hand over your mouth. Bad excuse, you chide yourself mentally. You’re sure Min Ho doesn’t want to hear about it, especially since he’s firmly siding with Dae over the whole issue, and something about the phrase first kiss has you feeling almost nauseous. 

“Oh, a first kiss. You too?” Min Ho asks teasingly.

“No, I’m just…” you trail off. The truth is you don’t really know why you’re here, when you really think about it. Yes, Kitty had convinced you to come by mentioning that the party was being thrown by Min Ho. But now that you’re here, you’re more than painfully aware of your feelings for him, and you’re at a loss as to how to deal with them. And now you’re thinking about it - kissing him.

You turn your head back towards him, eyes sticking to the dip of his throat disappearing into his collar. 

“What a shame,” he whispers, hand still lingering on your arm and you swear you see stars when he leans in closer. Your hand instinctively reaches up to hold onto his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Come find me if you change your mind.”

And then he’s slipping back into the party with a wink, leaving you completely and utterly breathless.

#xo kitty x reader #min ho x reader #KINDA NERVOUS ABOUT POSTING THIS... #pls im so embarrassed abt the effect this show has had on me /lh #i see all of u asking for min ho content tho. so i am here to hopefully provide #(BTW THIS IS A SELF SHIP BLOG DONT FOLLOW ME FOR FICS) #all my moots pls look away /lh #🎐 my writing

[bloompompom]

Safekeeping - Aftermath

the second part to safekeeping | read the first part here

After a proposition to lose your virginity to your brother’s best friend, it becomes difficult to move on once you’re away at college. Difficult for who? That's up for debate.

✧ content: ~9.4k word count. eren jaeger x female reader. modern/college au. upgraded from porn without plot to porn with feelings, older brother's friend trope, reader’s brother has a name, sappy af, mutual pining/getting together, oral sex (m!receiving), PIV sex, spit, praise, pussy job, alcohol use, explicit sexual content, explicit language, reader discretion advised. 18+ only. ✧ a/n: because they deserved a happy ending, didn't they?

You did it. Your first semester of college was officially over.

Actually, it ended roughly two weeks ago when your final grades were uploaded. Now, you were smack in the middle of winter break, left with no responsibilities other than lounging before your family’s fireplace. 

You were grateful, and it wasn’t just from the holiday spirit. You were overjoyed—and not to mention, relieved beyond belief—because college was everything you hoped it to be. It wasn’t exactly like the movies, of course, but it was damn near close. You got along well with your roommate, and for once in your life, your professors didn’t hold their grudges toward your brother against you because they didn’t have any.

And it just so happened that you were seeing someone. Something casual, no big deal.

You meant that earnestly. The guy wasn’t much to write home about, and he definitely wasn’t the one. He was just… there. 

It was fun, though! It had to be, or else you wouldn’t keep going back to him. You felt a connection right away—it was why you slept with him in the first place—but after your semi-regular hookups, it just sort of fizzled. It was fine. He was fine. 

Anyway, he hadn’t tried to reach out since you left, even once. You wanted it to hurt only because it felt like it should, but you couldn’t find it in you. Talking to him sounded less than appealing, if you were being honest. You much preferred to spend the better half of your days catnapping around a house much warmer than your dorm. The only person you bestowed your precious attention on was Hitch, your grade school bestie who was also visiting home. But that was about to change. 

After breakfast, your brother Collin came knocking at your bedroom door, creaking it open with just his knuckles. 

You peered up from your phone when he asked, “Got any plans later?”

“No,” you replied. He was giving you this weird look. Then he closed the door. “What’s the about?”

“I’m going to a party tonight. Wanna come?”

You looked from side to side because he had to be talking to someone else.

“Don’t be dumb.” He leaned against the wall like he planned to be there for a minute. “You’re old enough now. I’m sure you’ve gone to plenty at school, anyway.” 

You weren’t buying into the whole brotherly love schtick. You deadpanned, “Mom and Dad said you have to bring me wherever you’re going, right?” 

Collin’s shoulders slumped in that ‘you caught me’ sort of way. “I told them it was an ugly sweater party as a cover-up, and they bought it a little too well—said I have to take you if I want to go. They’re worried about you, all cooped up inside and—”

“Okay, I get it!” You didn’t need to hear that your parents thought you were a loser. There was nothing wrong with wanting some peace and quiet during your vacation. 

To really sell the lie, you needed ugly sweaters. Neither of you had thought that far ahead, and you had to go thrifting after your parents began pestering you about it. On the drive to the store, you told Collin he had to pay for yours since he forced you out, and he spent the ride home complaining that he should have simply snuck out and saved the money. 

“But then you’d have to cover for me, and I’d have to see your sad, lost-puppy eyes as you stayed in for another night,” he jested. You thumped his forehead. 

Hours later, the two of you were back in the same seats. Collin parked the car, and the overhead light cut through the pitch-black neighborhood. He unbuckled, then immediately yanked his knit sweater over his forehead.

“I’m not planning on coming home tonight obviously. I’m staying at Jean’s. What about you?”

“Hitch’s,” you answered, peeling off your own sweater and throwing it into the backseat. “She didn’t want to come, but she offered to give me a ride to her place to stay the night. I doubt I’ll stay long.” 

You stepped out of the car together. The doors slammed shut, and the sound echoed off the houses. 

“Sounds good. Just be sure to let me know when you leave,” he said. 

Collin parked a block or so away. On the walk, you started to overthink things. If Jean would be there, would Eren be there, too? You wanted to say it had been a while since you last thought of him, but that would be another lie you’d have to tally for the night. 

“So,” you drawled.  “Is Jean going to be here?”

Collin snorted. “Duh. It’s his house.”

He didn’t mention that earlier. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Past your stomach, like it had splat on the pavement. 

As fate would have it, you did see him at the party. Eren. Not immediately, but it might as well have been.

You had only drunk roughly three-quarters of a beer when you saw Eren, and it wasn’t nearly enough to dull the weird twirly feeling pitting in your stomach. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but it was a confusing one, that was for sure.

It wasn’t that you regretted what you had done, not in the slightest, but that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous to see him. How couldn’t you be? This was the first time you’d been in the same room since you had naively bared it all for him, looking about as pathetic in bed as a newborn faun taking its first steps.  

At the very least, you expected to see Eren the morning after—you actually dreaded it. You stayed in your bed, laid on pins and needles, staring at your ceiling until you could no longer. And even then, the basement remained silent.

They eventually emerged from their hibernations once the afternoon rolled around. Eren was nowhere to be found, as if he was suddenly the earlier riser of the group. You supposed it was less awkward this way. 

In that emotional cauldron you were brewing, the one that was close to boiling over, you felt a dash of jealousy. It was strange and unexpected, but now that you saw Eren cozied up with some girl, her legs draped over his lap… the feeling was certainly there. 

You hated it. Especially after your eyes lingered for too long, resulting in very brief, very fleeting eye contact between you. It was over and done with so fast that you didn’t even get a good look at his face. Was he surprised? Indifferent? It was only a guess at this point. But you—well, you made it entirely clear that you were avoiding him, what with the speedy way you spun on your heels to flee. It was a dead giveaway as to how you were feeling, whatever it was. 

You tossed back the rest of your beer, then went scouring for what was next. Your best bet was what appeared to be a thrown-together hot chocolate bar. Not the best option but certainly not the worst. The slow cooker, still halfway full, sat warming on the counter. Surrounding it were loose bottles of cream liquors and peppermint schnapps, torn-open bags of marshmallows, and whipped cream if you were feeling fancy. Very on-theme for tonight’s holiday party. 

In an attempt to look busy—keep your gaze low, hands moving—you headed that direction. 

You fiddled with a stack of styrofoam cups and pretended you weren’t overwhelmingly flustered by this unbeknownst feeling. You didn’t do a great job at it. Or at least, Eren didn’t think so. And unlike you, he had already come to terms with his feelings, but only because it had hit him more or less like a freight train. 

So let’s go ahead and recap what the last semester was like for Eren, shall we?

Becoming a third-year freed Eren from the required dormitories and roommates. He spent the tail end of his summer moving into an off-campus apartment. It wasn’t much—exactly what one would imagine when asked to envision an apartment with a down payment suited for a student’s budget. One-bedroom, one-bathroom, but it was all to himself. 

No different than any other twenty-something, Eren was excited to be on his own. He could see it already: no one to answer to, no one to schedule his life around. And definitely no weird-ass habits he’d have to deal with from a roommate—one he, to this day, couldn’t believe he matched with based on the school’s dumb quiz. He just had to wait out the summer until his lease began, and then his life would officially start.

The vision derailed, of course, just two weeks before he was handed the keys to his (self-proclaimed) bachelor pad. The reason? It was easy enough to guess.

Eren could deny it as much as he wanted, but it wouldn’t change that after fantasizing about his friend’s little sister for days, he selfishly prioritized his needs over his friendship and took her virginity. And in a cruel turn of events, he wound up with feelings for her. It seemed a bit like karma, didn’t it? 

From the very second his eyes snapped open the next morning, he convinced himself it was nothing more than a hot dream—albeit one that left him rattled. But when he ambled upstairs, he found his half-drunk glass of water, untouched, exactly where he recalled leaving it. 

Days passed, and Eren waited for that dreadful pang of remorse to smack him upside the head for what he had done—what the two of you chose to do together. It never came. Somehow, that felt so much worse.

Now, he had a secret large enough that if it came to light, he’d end up with a black eye from his best friend. Not that it wouldn’t be well-deserved. Even he could acknowledge that. But he was far from guilt-ridden over it. The only thing he regretted was that he hadn’t spoken to you since. He never talked to you much to begin with—he didn’t even have your phone number—so it’d be weird of him to start now, right?

Eren didn’t know what was the right thing to do, so he defaulted to doing nothing. It didn’t feel like there was any right option, like he had already made too many wrongs to turn back now. 

His worst offense? To him, it was that he still thought of you when he was, for lack of better words, alone. But that was the only time!

That was how he justified it: he’d only allow his memories of you, though painfully limited, to seep to the forefront then and only then. It was a half-assed boundary at most, Eren knew as much, and it was so wrong of him. You trusted him, you told him that yourself, and here he was, shamefully fucking his fist to nothing more than a mirage because that was all you had left him.

He’d think of your sweet sounds. Those little, fluttering breaths would escape you as a shiver no matter where he touched you. Sensitive and soft and warm beneath his palms, he’d replay the moment you first tried to take him on your own. Lowering yourself onto him, Eren could see you shifting your hips as you learned how to take him, all of him, best. Past lulled and heavy eyelids, you were intent on getting yourself off, no matter what it took. And when you got there—fuck, he wished he could see it again. He wanted to feel it again, something his hand could never replicate. 

After, you never went away. That was when Eren knew he was in trouble. When you were no longer a perverted fantasy but still at his side when he’d close his eyes. No longer fucking but basking in the afterglow of it together. Your arm slung around his waist, your balmy cheek resting against his chest. Tangled sheets, kisses pressed to your forehead, bodies sheened and sticky with sweat—all of it. 

This went much deeper than merely offering a helping hand to someone in need before she left for college. Eren did the favor of scratching your back, but what you didn’t realize was that you had scratched his, too. The one itch he couldn’t reach. He still bore the scars of it. 

You had him in a chokehold, and you didn’t even know it. A very, very complicated chokehold at that. Eren couldn’t believe he had caught feelings for you, his best friend’s little sister! But now he was peeking at—no, who was he kidding? He was religiously checking your Instagram stories.

By the look of it, there was finally some action in that love life of yours. You were never explicit about it, sharing no more than a picture of his hand on your thigh or a strategically-snapped photo of your cocktail with the mystery man’s face reduced to a background blur. The subtle art of a soft launch. It told Eren enough. 

So when he noticed how your eyes sprung to the size of saucers when you saw him across the party, he was intrigued. Eren didn’t know when he’d bump into you next, but he often wondered how you’d react. And when you scurried off like a mouse, excitement sparked within him, even if it was at your expense. He needed to know then if you still thought about him—what he did to you, and you to him—despite being with someone else. 

He quickly decided there wasn’t any harm in approaching you to say—

“Hey.”

Eren interrupted you just as you attempted to serve yourself hot cocoa. You nearly dropped the ladle when you heard his voice over your shoulder.

You faltered as you piped back a ‘hi’ but smiled through it only because you realized he came looking for you. 

“Need some help?” He offered you a smile laced with pity. You followed his eyes to find yourself pouring hot chocolate onto your wrist. You didn’t feel the string of it until then.

You cursed but thanked him when he took your cup. Since it was apparent you needed his help, Eren started making your drink as you searched for some paper towels.

“What alcohol didya want?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead,” you admitted, nodding toward cocoa-coated hands. “Clearly.”

His mouth curled up at that but nothing more. He didn’t leave any time for your embarrassment to simmer before he replied, “Then I’ll fix you what I made myself.

By the time you were dry and the remnants of your mess were forgotten in the trash can, Eren had mixed your drink and extended it to you. You thanked him for it and took a sip. It was sweet on the tip of your tongue, enough to comfort the burn of liquor that tickled from your throat and down your stomach. 

You smiled at him, the kind that made your eyes crinkle. “Cream and peppermint liquor. Good choice.”

“I thought so,” Eren beamed briefly before adding, “Oh—almost forgot.”

He reached for the can of whipped cream, locking his eyes to yours as he angled the nozzle toward your face.

“Open up.”

His smirk was like a wordless language that only you understood. He told you he remembered it—in fact, he even still thought about it—and he wanted to know if you did, too.

You opened your mouth. 

A laugh bubbled through you before the cream even met your tongue. Eren’s laugh joined yours when half made it into your mouth. The rest landed on the corner of your lips, daring to spill down your chin. After you thumbed it into your mouth, Eren surprised you by dotting your nose with it, too. 

You weren’t stupid; you knew how this looked because it was exactly as it appeared. The action toed the border between playfulness and something more—something that wasn’t entirely uncharted, given your history, but just as forbidden. You would have cared more if anyone was paying you any mind. And if someone important—Collin, Jean… hopefully the list ended there—were to see, you were convinced you could wisely play it off as a joke. 

You never expected your next run-in with Eren to go like this. You hoped for it, the shameless flirting, but it was more likely that he’d avoid you like the plague. You convinced yourself of it. You moved on from that ephemeral night, began to see other people, and let your dead-end crush fade away. 

No, you didn’t expect this at all. And even if you had, you wouldn’t have imagined it quite like this, with every fiber of your being tightened and set ablaze. And when you laid a hand on Eren’s arm, catching yourself in a fit of giggles, it tightened in reflex, like he felt the burning, too. 

You hurdled through the pleasantries even though they weren’t necessary, considering Eren had sex with you off little more than a single conversation last time. In an act of modesty, you were sure, he didn’t directly ask if you were single but instead teased you about Fabio again—asked if you had met anyone that compared. 

You hadn’t. The guy you were ‘dating’ was far from your dream man, even to the extent that you had already considered how you’d end it when—if you ever heard from him again. 

But Eren didn’t need to know that. You rolled your eyes at the lame joke, offhandedly saying, “I’m sort of seeing someone.”

It piqued his interest, discernible by his raised brow. Either that, or he saw right through you. He leaned into you, close. You wanted to check if Collin was near, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

“Oh, yeah?” He tilted his head and repeated, “‘Sort of.’ What does that mean?”

You sensed he wanted you to spell it out for him, the dirty details of it, but you hummed, “You know, hookups, the occasional dinner—not exclusive.” 

Whether or not he detected the hint at the end, your answer didn’t seem to suffice. “Is that what you want?”

You swirled your drink, took another sip, and suppressed your shiver. “I’m still figuring out what I want.”

The next thing you knew, Eren had snuck you upstairs. For obvious reasons, you had never been to Jean’s house; you had not a clue whose bedroom Eren had chosen for the two of you. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t distinguish much under the tawny lights strung around the room, but that was far from your first priority. What mattered more was that no one saw you slip away with Eren. It was no big deal that you were about to have sex with your brother’s best friend on their other best friend’s bed, right? 

Fuck it. Quite literally.

You shoved the thought to the back of your head much like the way Eren shoved you against the door as he kissed you. He kept one hand cupped around your face and used his other to lock the door behind you. The moment the click of it hit your ears, he pushed a hand between your legs. 

You weren’t going to talk about it, the rather large elephant lurking in the room. That Eren offered to take your virginity much like a business proposition, and you agreed to sex that was supposed to feel just as transactional. But the reality of it was that you hadn’t stopped thinking about that night ever since. Neither of you had, so you’d go on and pretend like it never ended. 

He palmed over the crotch of your jeans, teasing you before reaching for their button. You indirectly made him work for him, keeping him close with your arms looped around his neck—close enough that your noses were smushed together.

Eren struggled with the zipper next, less focused on it and more distracted by your teeth, gently tugging on his bottom lip. He groaned, and it spilled into your mouth like honey.

You broke the kiss, hands flinging to your sides to slip from your jeans. You bent at the waist, eyes fixed up at Eren, as you wiggled them down your legs. Noting the deep rise and fall of his shoulders, you felt a similar stutter in your own. 

He confessed he didn’t have a condom. You told him you were on birth control now, and that was enough for you both to continue—so long as he pulled out, you reminded. He agreed by hooking your leg around his waist. You swung the other to match, locking your ankles against his lower back, and let him carry you to the bed. 

Eren navigated to the bed with suspicious ease. He walked backward, lips still on yours, like he knew the room’s layout and where the bed was. You wanted to wince at the realization—that the likelihood this bedroom belonged to Jean had skyrocketed—but you forgot it just as fast when Eren sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling you down with him.

You straddled his lap with hands on either side of his face, your tongue in his mouth and against his own. He still tasted like peppermint schnapps. Burned like it, too.

He rucked up your shirt as his hands smoothed along your back. You’d think his fingers were made of matches, scorching trails whenever they roamed. You gasped when he dared low enough to grab your ass, pinching at the fat of it. Your thin underwear bunched in his grasp, dragging along your skin with him. 

Eren pinned you to him, working you over the front of his jeans. Back and forth, your hips on a swivel, he used you to get himself hard, only stopping to smear his palms on his jeans when you’d start to slip from his grasp. It didn’t take long before you felt him, stiff and nicely pressed between your legs. 

When you started to grind against him, demandingly and all on your own, the kiss went sloppy. Though the plush of your lips brushed together, it was less like making out and more like swapping breaths. Like a warm fog swirling around you, you grew dizzy off it. Eventually, one of you would have to come up for air.

You pulled away right as he sat back. You’d call it harmonious, but that would make it sound graceful. Each of you fumbled to get your shirt over your head, and it cascaded into a tangle of limbs and clumsy laughs. You reached for the hem of his T-shirt next. You’d hate to be the only one in your underwear.

You didn’t see them but felt the tight muscles of his chest. They didn’t give under your touch, even as you flattened a hand against him. He picked up on the hint, that you wanted him to lay back, and you moved together. He pushed himself further back on the bed, you following in a feline-like prowl above him, until he rested against the pillows. 

It was a new side to you—at least, one that Eren hadn’t seen yet—and he already craved more. You were no longer shy, not in the way he remembered, but entirely disinhibited with this, dare Eren say, beyond turned-on look on your face. Glassy eyes, kiss-swollen lips, and the cherry on top: that devilish smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. 

He could only gawk as you pressed your smile to his sternum, then a bit lower. Then even lower than that. Your lips skimmed over the smooth skin of his hip bone, tickling him, smacking him with the realization of how dangerously low you were. Every muscle in his body tightened, his cock throbbing to be touched. 

Only a tad bit desperate—he’d call it enthusiasm—Eren snaked his hand down to undo his belt. Once it was off, you helped him out of his jeans, working them and his boxers down his legs. You settled between. 

Eren was so kind to you the first time, so exceedingly gentle; the least you could do was give him the chance to see what you’d learned since. 

You placed a hand on the top of his thigh. Already, it flexed. You slid it higher, merely palming over his cock at your leisure—not his. He chewed on his inner lip in anticipation, fighting the impulse to rut against your hand. He wasn’t prepared to look that pathetic, even if he felt that way watching you wet your lips. He knew what was coming next, and if he had any air in his lungs, he would have whined at the sight. 

When you finally brought your mouth to the tip of his cock, he sucked in a breath. That was all it took, just a swipe of your tongue; you didn’t even have to take him past your lips. Wanting to pull another noise from him, you did it a second time, licking him from base to tip, agonizingly slow.

You knew what he wanted. You could see it plainly on his face: Just put it in your mouth already! Anything, please! But instead of flinging a hand to the back of your head, he gripped the sheets. He let you tease him despite that it wasn’t the time or place for it. Outside the door, there was far-off music. It was indistinct, buzzing behind heavy footsteps and creaking floorboards and laughter—the usual party rumblings. It was as ambient to Eren as white noise, no greater than a low drone. He could only concentrate on suppressing his desire to ruin you—as if he hadn’t done so already. But before he could do that, you needed to show him how much you could take.

So you did just that. Inch by inch. 

Eren’s abdominals clenched as more of him disappeared past your lips. Your mouth, wet and oh-so warm, was tight. Intentionally so as you wrapped your lips around him with hollowed cheeks. You found a comfortable, steady pace, bobbing your head over his length. You only paused to gather your saliva, allowing it to pool behind your front teeth. Unabashedly, Eren watched. 

It was a sight so incredibly pornographic yet one he found undeniably adorable. Your little expressions had him smitten—how you pursed and puckered your lips before finally spitting. It dribbled from your bottom lip in a lewd string connecting you to him. You let out an uncomfortable giggle, then snapped it with a swipe of your thumb.

He’d say you officially had him wrapped around your pinky finger now—as if he hadn’t been pretending that wasn’t already the case for months.

Up and down, your hand spread the saliva over his length with little resistance. After a moment, you returned your mouth to him, and the little rasp of a moan he let slip caught your attention. Through tear-damp lashes, you found his eyes keen on you, his jaw slightly slack in what you’d only describe as awe. 

The buttery lights warmed the side of his face, glinting like fire behind his eyes. You studied every part of his face, from the twitch of his brow when you’d lap your tongue along the underside of his shaft to how his nose would scrunch when you’d swirl around the tip. You wanted to learn exactly what made him feel good so you could do it over and over again, as he had with you.

Eren wrestled himself on whether he should let you continue or not. He didn’t want to stop you, dutifully attempting to take all of him without choking, it was just that he had a better idea in mind.

He sat up enough to guide you to his side with both hands. You could tell he was trying to be smug, but his voice sounded taken as he told you, “Looks like whoever you were with must have been a real amateur.” 

Eren had you perpendicular to him now but still bent over so you could keep on as you were. 

“Or just selfish,” he added. His hand stroked down your spine and over the curve of your ass. He reached between your legs and pushed your panties aside to make room for him. “Because this way, I can touch you, too.”

You moaned when his fingers traced over your slit. He used the pads of them to circle your clit and didn’t falter even as you wiggled back against his hand. With his free hand, he cupped your face, gently encouraging you to pick up from where you had left off. You were more than willing. 

He dipped a finger inside you. On impulse, he jerked deeper into your throat when he felt you flutter around the intrusion, as if he could feel it in his cock. Every whimper he’d coax from you sounded even sweeter when muffled.

“Not to mention, he must be a fucking idiot to miss out on this.” Eren’s voice was a murmur up until the end. Then it was a hiss. “Because I bet you look real pretty coming with your mouth full.” 

He spoke to you softly, the timbre of his voice a warm hum, yet his confidence was palpable. The back of your neck burned.

Though you clung to it like a shield, your strength began to waver. It was evident by the quiver in your thighs every time he’d slip from you, fingers dripping, to play with your clit. Every time, you followed it with another strangled whimper. Each was like a gift to Eren.

He had brought you to the brink of becoming undone. All the while, he watched contently, head drooped to his shoulder and everything. He felt the tiny huffs from your nose fan over his pelvis as you sputtered around his cock. Your arm would wobble, elbow threatening to give out, as you struggled to focus on him and your orgasm, impending and fogging your senses. You had forgotten how wonderful another person could make you feel, and this was just his fingers. 

Eren was a bit of an anomaly; it only took you a few encounters to conclude such. Not everyone was talented with their fingers or their tongues or their—the list could go on, really. But it was more than deftness alone. Eren actually wanted to make you come, and by the look of it, he was just as needy for it as you were. And you were right there, the heat of it winding in your stomach until your entire being gained a pulse of its own. 

You came with Eren’s cock in your mouth. It overtook you in a glow, burning you from the inside out in a series of little explosions. You dug your nails into his thigh. Your other hand, though shaky, was still around the base of him. You were hardly conscious of how you squeezed him, but he didn’t even feel it. He was more enraptured by the way your throat tightened around him as you choked through your orgasm.

Past the thick thrumming in your ears, you heard how much Eren enjoyed that lovely little mouth of yours—how much he enjoyed using it.

Thunder emitted low from his chest as he rolled his hips, meeting you halfway to ensure every bow of your head was punctuated by another squeak of the mattress and his tip bumped against the back of your throat. He was as delicate as could be while fucking your mouth, yet tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. They welled up and threatened to drip down your cheek, teasing him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It tumbled from Eren’s mouth in a ragged chant. His head was thrown back into the stack of pillows, but he fought to steal a glimpse of you before your knees buckled beneath you. “Look at you. You’re fucking perfect.”

Your heart skipped. 

You liked that you were the reason for his pleasure—the reason his cheeks bore a flush, and why he could no longer hold himself back. Seconds ago, you had set a scene just as vulgar, helplessly grinding against his hand in a chase for your own high. And now that he was just as swept up in it, he could no longer pretend he had dreamt only of fucking you gently.

There was no way Eren could finish before he had the chance to get started. He regrettably pulled out from your mouth with a spitty pop.

You were still panting when you traded positions. Eren laid you back on the bed, gazing down to trace over the features of your face. He petted the side of it when he said, “You did so good.”

He kissed every spot he touched. Your cheekbone, the lobe of your ear, then the dip below it. You felt each one at the base of your spine.

“Talk to me.” Eren nuzzled the words in the nook of your jaw, breathed them over your skin, sensitive and already tacky from your swelter. His tongue and teeth grazed down the column of your neck. “Tell me what you want.”

There wasn’t any air behind your voice, nothing to carry it when you tried to reply, “Take off my underwear. Please.”

You went to raise your hips for him, but your legs had long turned to mush. There was an unmistakable tremble to them as Eren shimmied off your underwear. You placed a leg on either side of him, spreading yourself and welcoming him between. His eyes, alert as a hawk’s, widened before falling exactly where one would predict. Then he swallowed hard. 

He was faced with the task of taking all of you in, as if it were even possible. You followed the tips of his fingers as he trailed them up your curves with a butterfly’s touch. He toyed with the strap of your bra, now wilted off your shoulder and dangling at your arms. With a quick tug, he had your breasts popped over the cups.

Eren licked his lips. “God, you’re—”

He eagerly crashed to your chest, right between your tits. He didn’t intend to cut himself off, but he decided it was probably for the best; he wasn’t sure what he was about to spout out, anyway. 

You were just as sensitive as he remembered, unable to keep still as his large hands squeezed at your breasts, kissing and nipping and licking every inch of the delicate skin. When his mouth was latched to one, flicking his tongue at your perked nipple, he’d continue playing with the other, rolling his thumb over it. 

As though you could possibly drift away, you anchored yourself to Eren. You raked a hand through his hair, fingering through the lank strands that escaped his tie and hung loose. Before you could screw it up any further, you flinched when you heard voices booming on the other side of the wall. Your entire body froze as you glanced over to the door. 

Either Eren didn’t hear it or if he was only pretending he didn’t. His hold on you was steadfast as he covered your body in kisses—that is, until the handle jiggled. He tore away then to follow your line of sight. 

You waited for something to happen. Anything. Like the knob to rattle again, or a pound that would shake the door. Maybe someone would kick it down—you didn’t know! But the only sound between you was the thumping of your heartbeat against Eren’s.

Whoever it was, they must have wanted the room for the very same reason you and Eren did because, after a minute passed, you believed they had left. The groan of the floorboards grew distant as another hot and bothered pair continued their search for a vacancy. 

You brought Eren back to you by lightly taking him by the forearm. You were unable to wrap your fingers around the entirety of it but managed to pull him in, anyway. At the same time, you dug your heels into the mattress and scooted closer to him.

“I want you,” you quietly confessed. You lifted your hips, angling them in an attempt to meet his cock. 

Eren needed to convince himself this was real—that you were real. You hardly gave him the time to before you hitched a leg around his waist. He collapsed over you, caging you between his forearms. His eyes had darkened, brows sitting lowly above them in that drunken, determined look of lust. 

He kissed you. The corner of your mouth first, then fully on your lips. Between your legs, you felt him brush against you, throbbing. His tongue parted your lips, slipping past them the moment he pushed inside you. 

It stole your breath. Though your mouth was agape, a tiny ‘o’ against his, not a sound left you. He slipped out of you, then filled you again. Your breath returned in the form of a moan. He did this a few more times, deeper with each tilt of his hips, fucking you languidly, just to see if you could take it before he bottomed out.

Eren straightened out. “You okay?”

You gazed up at him and watched his lips curve into a soft smile when you whispered, “More than.” 

Then you watched it melt away once you wiggled against him, encouraging him, asking for—no, taking more of him. As though he had been waiting on you, he finally pushed deeper until he was flush against you.

You realized Eren’s composure was an act because it much snapped like a rubber band. You caught his inhale, through his nose and sharp in your ear. His head dropped on his exhale, and you felt it vibrate through you. He thrust into you a few more times, adjusting to you, while tiny grunts played at your ears. 

Keeping in mind your whereabouts, you expected this to be a quickie. But before you knew it, you were having the type of sex that wasn’t meant for a friend’s bed. It became pounding hips, so intense—so fucking good—that you heard Eren’s hand hit the headboard with a smack, gripping the top of it for support. It was erratic kisses. Ones that were messy and missed but would catch another part of the face, like the bow of your lip or dip in his chin; gasping and stealing damp breaths from one another in a bedroom growing headier by the second.

Lest he wished to come now and completely ruin everything, Eren had to pump the breaks. He sat back onto his calves and shoved a hand through his hair, sweeping it away from his face. His chest looked heavy, yet his arms remained sturdy as he cradled your hips. He fucked you slowly, mesmerized by the sight of him burying inside you—how well you took him—again and again. 

Flustered, you tried to remember how to breathe, but Eren made it difficult with his lazy eyes and an even lazier smile. 

You felt your whole body react when he placed a hand at the base of your neck. You were silk beneath his touch, from the dip between your chest, down to your navel. He traced along the side of your body and the swells of your breasts, then repeated it.

Eren had known you for years, but he didn’t know you—not like that. But he knew enough to say he liked you. And he was sure he’d only grow to like you more—a lot more.

He couldn’t wait to get there, to know everything there was to learn about you. Your birthday, your favorite food, what you liked to do on a rainy day—hell, he wanted to know what superpower you’d choose if presented with the option. He wanted every detail of it, and that had to mean something. 

Eren grabbed your hand. He held it against his face and kissed the inside of your wrist. 

“You’re so soft,” he told you, voice pitched low and spoken into your skin. 

The only coherent thought you had was how desperately you needed him again. You yanked him forward until his mouth was back on yours, where it belonged. Taking your open mouth as an invitation, he sucked your tongue lightly. You felt a frisson of heat beneath your skin, but it prickled like a chill.

“Eren. More,” you pleaded, your voice lost somewhere in his mouth. 

You twisted beneath him. Eren pulled out and watched as you rolled to your stomach, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. You could only glimpse over your shoulder, but it was enough to see that his eyes were trained on you.

Suddenly hot under his gaze, you rushed to add, “Only if you want to.”

Whether it was intentional or Eren was just seeing things, he swore you arched your back as you said it, ass in the air like it was an offering. 

Of course he wanted to. He wanted to so badly that he nearly couldn’t get the words out. From his mumbling, you could only make out, “You have no fucking idea.”

Eren had to kiss you then, everywhere that he could reach. Your lower back and then the valley of it next. He kissed a path between your legs. With his hands on your ass, he spread you, luring a squeal from you when he licked a stripe through your pussy. 

He stood tall on his knees, kicked your legs apart, and plunged inside you with a swift swing of his hips. You let out an indulgent moan, your hands clawing fists into the pillows. With the fingers digging into the dough of your sides, he worked you over his cock. 

“You feel so fucking good,” Eren panted, almost like a laugh, as if he was in disbelief. He wanted to say he had forgotten how wonderful you felt, almost like you were made for him, but how could he forget? He had only been longing for it. 

“Fuck,” you whined under your breath.

You didn’t see it, your head had dropped between your shoulders, but Eren smirked. 

“You like when I talk to you, don’t you?”

He watched how your back arched deeper before you answered, babbling, “Yes, yes—oh fuck, yes.”

There was little else on your mind other than how close you were to coming for the second time. Absolutely desperate for it, you bounced back against Eren’s thrusts. He cursed through gritted teeth, watching you sink back onto his cock. His hand snaked between your legs in search of your clit. He began rubbing tight circles that you felt in your toes. 

You squeaked out a small, breathless sound as your body tightened.

With a voice like gravel, Eren hummed, “There you go.”

He fucked you through it. His hips never lost their pacing, and the rhythm of his fingers was resolute even as you twitched below him. It wasn’t until you heard him grunt, “I can feel it—shit, I can feel you coming—you’re so tight,” that he began to strain.

With a cheek smushed into the sheets, your moans were choppy until they sputtered into one last sigh. You went slack in Eren’s grasp.

He slipped an arm beneath you before you could crumble to the bed, holding you close enough that he could feel your rabid pulse against his arm. Eren folded over you, lazily rutting into you. You felt his weight atop you, the words he etched into the nape of your neck when murmured, “I wanna be with you.”

Blame it on the orgasm, but for whatever reason, it didn’t register with you. Be with you—wasn’t that what was happening right now?

His hand scooped your chin, angling your face to kiss your temple.

“Come back to my place.” Eren ghosted his lips over your ear. “I wanna be with you tonight, like I should have the first time.” 

You could only assume the blood had left your head by now. Your eyes fluttered shut. You were as malleable as putty; you’d agree to just about anything at that moment—if you could. Hazy off all those feel-good hormones, you couldn’t manage a nod as your body rocked with his. After a few more jerks of his hips, he pulled out.

He didn’t come but flipped you onto your back. You slumped into the pillows willingly, your legs falling at your sides so Eren could nestle between. He didn’t enter you again but laid his cock against you, nice and slick for him, and spread you with it. He held himself there with a flattened palm and fucked between you. Wrecked and tortuously sensitive, the head of his cock bumping your clit had you spinning to the point of seeing stars.

Eren’s eyes snapped shut as he focused on your blissful purrs below him. He was already close; it only took another stutter of his hips before he threw his head back and came across your stomach, some of it spurting as high as your tits and neck. The muscles of his arms flexed, the veins of them chiseled and defined, as he held you there, soft and pliant for him.

He was still breathing hard when he stilled. He flexed his fingers, stretching out an ironclad grasp, as he sat back on his heels.

“Fuck, what a mess.” Eren croaked a chuckle. “Sorry.” 

He stood and poked around the room a bit before locating a tissue box on the dresser. It skipped through your mind to ask if this was Jean’s room, but you decided it was best you didn’t know. 

Eren gave you some tissues before taking his handful to wipe you clean. Despite your attempts at controlling it, you were visibly trembling. He must have noticed because he didn’t rush to dress but flopped beside you, even if he claimed it was because he was too hot to put his shirt back on. 

You lolled your head to the side to look at him. Dew painted the edges of his face, catching what little light was there and defining the structure. 

You shared a look, let it linger between you. It was unreadable. A face of shock—one you surely mirrored, and yet comfort lapped at you like tropical waves. The two emotions, together in stark contrast, could be summarized with a simple, ‘It’s you.’ 

Said once through a heavy sigh, like the realization that you were only startled by a friend around the corner.

Said twice with your jaw cartoonishly dropped to the floor when you realized who you had sex with again—the prickle of surprise when you rouse from your dream only to find them naked at your side.

Eren patted the top of your thigh before heaving himself upright. Time to go.

You quickly dressed and straightened out as much as possible, double-checking that no one’s clothes were on backward. Eren was fixing his hair in the mirror when he asked, “You ready to get out of here?”

“You were serious?” you questioned—nicely, of course. You figured it was only a heat-of-the-moment sort of deal.

He caught your eye in the reflection. “I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t serious.” 

It slipped from his tongue easily. It sounded natural, no different than fact, as he told you what he wanted—you. The words were weighty, dragging your woozy head back down to Earth. They sobered you up like a splash of ice water to the face. 

You didn’t have any desire to return to the party. There was no way either of you could continue on as though nothing happened. Someone would catch on. Besides that, you didn’t want to pretend any longer; you were much more interested in seeing where the rest of the night would take you—where Eren would take you. 

You plotted your exit well enough that Eren was waiting on your ride outside by the time you were sneaking out. You had texted Collin that you were leaving and took his lack of reply as a good sign. You gave Hitch a half-truth—told her you were going home with someone but didn’t specify who. 

Eren’s apartment was nice, neat. Still exceptionally new and hardly lived in. Then again, he didn’t fit the type to go full throttle into interior decorating. 

He immediately pointed out the bathroom because you had complained you felt gross during the drive. There, you rummaged around a bit before you found his face wash in the shower. You freshened up as much as you could, stealing a swig of mouthwash to rid the syrupy taste of liquor from your teeth. 

Eren knocked at the door. You spat into the sink, wiped your mouth, and peeked out.

“Thought you might want these,” Eren said, offering what appeared to be clothes much comfier than your own, folded and stacked in his hands. 

You thanked him, inspecting them once he left you to change. You decided on just the T-shirt; it covered enough. There was no use in hiding now, and it certainly wasn’t worth risking tripping over the legs of his sweatpants.

Though you were practically tip-toeing, Eren heard you the second you walked into the kitchen. He stepped out from behind the refrigerator door dressed in just a pair of shorts, no shirt. You held your breath when he smiled at you, ever so lopsidedly that you found it cute. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” he said like an admission, with a sheepish laugh and all. 

Your giggle was just as lighthearted, smiling when you replied, “I am, too.”

He neared you in a step with ardor sparkling through his eyes. With hands closed around your waist, he scooped you up and plopped you onto the counter. 

You yelped when its chill hit the backs of your thighs. You made yourself comfortable, sitting happily and with dangling feet, as you watched Eren cycle through what little preparation was necessary for a frozen pizza.

You’d seen him like this, exactly like this, just as you’d seen all of your brother’s friends lumber out from his bedroom at three in the afternoon on a Saturday. You never looked for too long; that was off-limits. But now, things were different. He was different—to you, at least. Now you could touch. 

You studied the sinewy muscles of his back, how they pulled taut when he reached into the freezer. Even under the fluorescent light of the kitchen, the crests of his shoulders shone like gold even though it was the middle of a sunless winter. 

Eren squinted to read the instructions on the back of the box. Your snickering was met with his side eye, and he followed it with a ‘don’t laugh’ as he tossed the box aside.

He snatched a bag of chips from the counter, and the two of you split them as an appetizer while the oven preheated. While the pizza baked, you played a game of twenty questions, just to pass the time. And when the timer blared, you ate your slices straight from the oven and asked each other questions with burnt tongues. 

You learned that Eren’s birthday was on March 30th and that his favorite food was a cheeseburger, hold the pickles—that part was important. When it rained, he preferred to either nap or go outside to watch the storm, no in between. And if he woke up one day to discover he had superhero-like powers, Eren would want to be able to teleport and travel the world, even if his clothes couldn’t come with him—yes, you asked. 

The questions continued into the bedroom because some answers, like the one to the superpower question, inspired lengthy conversations. You met Eren in his bed and curled against him, letting him spread the blanket over you. You were glad to have stuck with just the tee because you liked the feeling of his skin returning to yours, your legs intertwined with his.

It was Eren’s turn. It was the final question to end the game. You thought he’d contemplate it longer, as he had with his previous questions, but it only took a beat for him to ask, “Can I see the guy you’re dating?”

“Absolutely not!” You scoffed a laugh at his audacity, even sitting higher in your seat to balk at him. “Besides, that’s not how the game works.”

Still, his grin widened. “C’mon, please. It’s the least I deserve.”

He poked you playfully, causing you to giggle as you asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I need to size up my competition.”

You wanted to be just as bold and tell him there was no competition, none at all. But your reluctant, “Fine, here,” said enough as you settled back into the crook of his arm. 

You outstretched your phone before your face, far enough that Eren could see the screen, and scrolled to your dating app. You flitted through his profile because you didn’t want Eren to get a proper look, but he plucked the phone from your hand anyway. He glanced from you to the photo, then back to you once more.

“Seriously? This guy?” He tilted his head knowingly. “You know you can do better than that.”

Thinking you were clever, you sassed, “Oh, then are you suggesting you’re better?”

He flashed a cheeky smile. “Of course I am.”

You grabbed your phone from him with a roll of your eyes. “Whatever. He’s nice.” Eren pulled a face. “What?”

“It’s just the way you said it—‘he’s nice,’” he explained. “You don’t actually like him, do you?”

Eren was right. You didn’t want to admit it, though, not with the way he was eyeing you. But the truth sat heavy in your chest, and it consoled some of the weight to outrightly say, “No, not really. Not like I thought I did.”

You didn’t have the chance to set your phone aside before Eren snagged it again. Now aware of the guy’s name, he easily sorted through your contacts and found your messages with him. The unanswered text you last sent, well before winter break, stared back at you mockingly.

You felt a twinge of embarrassment waiting for Eren to comment on it, but whatever he was thinking, he kept the comment to himself.

It was undeniable that the guy must be a real prick for ignoring you. In turn, Eren determined he probably deserved what was coming: a message as short and sweet as ‘I think it’s best we don’t see each other again.’

Though you could have stopped him at any time, you still gasped, “Eren!” when he sent the text. It was meant as a scold but spilled from you as a laugh—as laughter, shaking your shoulders and making it a challenge to get your phone back.

A middle-of-the-night text like that could only mean one thing. You were sure he’d put the pieces together—that you had gotten with someone else—but you didn’t care. Now that he was out of the way, Eren ditched your phone next and captured the last bit of your attention.

His eyes were loyal to you, looking you straight in the face as he told you, “I like you. A lot.” He said it calmly, with a voice like a breeze. He brought a hand to your face and grazed it with the backs of his fingers. “Way more than I should, considering…”

Eren’s voice trailed off in a too-knowing way. He left it up to you to fill in the blank. No, blanks. Considering the only history between you was a two-night stand? Considering you lived three hours away? Or—how could you forget?—was it that you were the younger sister of his best friend? 

The correct answer? All of the above. 

Eren had more to say; you were sure of it. There was much—too much—left to be said. Tonight wasn’t the night for it.

You buried into the curve of his arm. Nose pressed against his neck, you breathed in the smell of his day, the salt on his skin from fucking. You lazed a hand on his chest. He was warm, live beneath your palm, his heartbeat like the patter of a tiny drum. 

You took the bait then, carelessly pitching him, “So, how’s this going to work?”

Eren heard the smile in your voice. His fingers found your chin, angling your face toward him. On it was that coy smile of yours, the one he remembered from that night. He kissed it, soft-lipped, as chaste as a mere taste.

“We’ll figure it out.”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut

[redocity]

Can you do one based on work song by hozier.

Like the episode after he is struck by lightning, and he would do anything to get back to her (the reader) 😭

COMATOSE - E.BUCKLEY

after he’d been hit by lighting, buck had been rendered comatose, and he’s just as eager to wake up and see you again as you are for him to be okay.

WARNINGS: massive spoilers for 06X11, happy ending, established relationship

evan buckley x fem!reader II angst Il 4.6k Il requests open!

a/n: eddie doesn’t deserve to be separated from christopher in any universe so i wrote them back in-

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

First it was Daniel.

Then he found out Maddie was still with Doug and hadn’t even met Chimney.

Then it was finding out that Bobby had died.

You were his last shot.

God how he wanted to see you right now. He felt like his whole world had been flipped upside-down, and it had in a way. He was sure of his theory, that this was some alternate reality induced by the lightning strike. That he had to be in a coma. That was the only reasonable explanation for all of this.

The first course of action was to ask Chimney and Hen about you. He had no direct impact in you joining the 118, so you had to still be there right? Your job was your life, and even in a place like this that shouldn’t have changed. You were independently driven, and he just hoped that meant that you weren’t different.

“Oh right,” Hen snapped her fingers at Buck’s description of you. “She went into early retirement to look after the kids,”

“Sad to see her go honestly, she was great,” Chimney nodded along to Hen’s assessment, crossing his arms. “I miss her cooking sometimes,”

“You say that like she’s dead,” Hen rolled her eyes, hitting Chimney’s bicep with the back of her hand. “We see her all the time,”

“Yeah but that’s not the same as coming off a call and having the mastery that is her lasagna waiting in the oven for me to devour the minute we sit down,” Chimney sighs at the thought, his shoulders dropping as he imagines it. “Now we get it maybe once a month if we’re lucky,”

“Wait stop-” Buck holds his hand up to stop the two’s conversation, pushing himself from the dining chair he was sat in at Chimney’s table to stand with a furrowed expression. “Kids?”

You weren’t just not in the 118, you had kids here? Kids plural. Not even just one.

“Yeah,” Hen gives him a short nod with a raised eyebrow, like Buck’s confusion was the weird thing and not you having multiple kids with somebody who wasn’t him. “Chistopher and Nicolas,”

“Well, if we’re being semantic here, Christopher isn’t technically her kid,” Chimney gestures outward with his hands as he corrects Hen’s explanation.

“Oh please she may as well be,” Hen rolls her eyes with a scoff. “He calls her mom doesn’t he?”

“Still, biologically-”

”Guys.” Buck stops the two again, holding up both of his hands this time. “Christopher like Eddie’s Christopher?” There was absolutely no way.

“Yeah,” Chimney nods enthusiastically like Buck had just suggested a good answer for a general knowledge quiz. “They’re not married wherever you come from?”

“They’re married?” Buck swears he’s going to die all over again.

“I’ll take that as a no-”

Buck sat back down on the pulled out chair with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

You got married and had a child with his best friend?

This definitely wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Not where you were supposed to be.

You were supposed to be his, he was supposed to be yours. God you’d been through so much together, you’d pledged yourselves to each other. He had a ring waiting for you in his apartment.

You weren’t supposed to be married to anyone else. It was just wrong.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Hey,” There’s a gentle hand placed on your shoulder, and you reluctantly tear your eyes away from where Buck is lying towards the origin of the voice.

“You should take a break, you need to eat something and stretch your legs,” Eddie squeezes your shoulder gently as he stands behind you, looking over the top of your head towards the ECMO machine keeping Buck’s breathing regulated. “It’s not good for you to sit here for so long,”

”You know I can’t leave him Eddie,” You sigh softly, dragging your hands over your face to try and rub the fatigue away from your features.

“Please,” He shakes your shoulders gently under his grasp. “You know he wouldn’t want to see you like this, you need to take care of yourself too,”

“I know that…”

“But you’re not going to leave anyway?”

”I just-” You exhale heavily, stretching your back from being hunched over to rest it against the back of the plastic chair you’re sitting in. “What if something happens while I’m not here?”

“Hey,” He tugs on the chair until you’re half-facing him. “If anything happens, I will call you. I promise. Please take a few hours to look after yourself, i’ll watch over him for now,”

You glance back towards Buck’s unmoving body, with a stuttered breath, slowly standing yourself up from your chair with Eddie’s hand behind your back to make sure you don’t stumble with how long you’d been sat there.

“He’ll be okay,” You look up at Eddie with glassy eyes as he tries to reassure you. “He’s a stubborn bastard, he’s not going anywhere,”

“I hope you’re right,”

“When have I ever been wrong?” He tilts his head slightly with a small smile, a lace of joking in his tone in his effort to lighten your mood a little.

It works to an extent, a small breathy laugh leaving your mouth, joined by a small shake of your head as you pull him into a short hug.

“Go and get some food, and then some rest alright?” He pulls away from the hug after a few seconds with his hands braced on your shoulders.

“Yes sir,”

Eddie laughs shortly at your sarcasm, watching you leave the room with a reassuring smile before he takes your place in the chair to watch over Buck until your inevitable return.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“So what are we doing here exactly?” Chimney calls out to Buck as he power walks into the waiting room of the hospital, just barely able to match pace with Hen as the two follow after him.

“I’m not sure,” Buck stops abruptly once he’s inside, looking around. “I think maybe I’m supposed to come back to where it all started,”

“I guess that makes sense in the rules of this- Alternate universe,” Chimney gestures with his hands, following Buck’s turning head in gazing around the sterile white environment.

“I-I have this weird feeling, like I’m running out of time-” Buck turns to face the two with a furrowed expression and a hand pressed against his chest.

“Ooh, a ticking clock,” Chimney snaps his fingers in amusement, turning his head towards Hen who gives him a dissatisfied look. “Plot twist,”

Hen shakes her head with a roll of her eyes at Chimney, turning her attention back towards Buck. “You were having trouble breathing before right?”

“Yeah?”

“What if that wasn’t a panic attack?” She shakes her head again, but this time not in disapproval, instead in concern. “You guys are talking about this place as an alternate reality, but it’s not,” She gestures between Buck and the two of them.

“If you’re in a coma then this is all in your head, meaning that this place is still connected to that body.” She continues her theory with fervour, and Buck is increasingly grateful that at least she hasn’t changed at all. “If it can’t breathe, you can’t breathe,”

“So he feels like he’s running out of time-” Chimney’s cut off halfway through his sentence.

“Because my body is…”

Buck drags his hand down his face at the revelation. He was really at risk of dying here if he didn’t figure out how to get back quickly enough. He wanted to get back. He needed to get back. Desperately.

“Oh hey!”

Buck would recognise that voice anywhere. And it was both the most and least thing he wanted to hear right now.

“Chim, Hen, I didn’t know you guys knew Mr. Buckley,” Buck turns almost begrudgingly in the direction of your voice, a flicker of hope in his eyes as he meets your face. A flicker that immediately disappears as his eyes turn to the child in your arms.

He can’t be any older than five, and he looks just like you, except for his nose and his eyes. They matched Eddie’s features perfectly. And it felt like they were ripping his heart in two.

“Yeah uh…” The two look between each other as they question whether to divulge Buck’s predicament to you. “New acquaintances,”

“Mister Buck!” The child in your arms waves enthusiastically in Buck’s direction, a perfect mimicry of your smile on his features. He figures this must be Nicolas.

Mister Buck. That’s right, he was a teacher in this weird purgatory. He taught your’s and Eddie’s child. Like his life couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey little man,” His greeting was more than a little stunted, his attempt at masking his features clearly failing under the way concern blooms across your face. He always hated when you looked at him like that.

“Are you alright? I know you just got out of the hospital recently and you’re looking a little pale, maybe you should sit down,” You place Nicolas on the floor to guide Buck over to one of the chairs to sit down, and your touch against his arm feels both familiar and foreign at the same time.

“I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” He waves you off gently with a raise of his hand before bracing his arms on his knees.

“What are you doing here, everything okay?” Hen mirrors your concern towards Buck back onto you.

“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine,” You give her a short nod as you straighten up from where you were bending to held Buck sit down, taking Nicholas’ hand in yours as he tugs on the hem of your shirt. “Just a routine check for Christopher, Eddie’s in with him at the moment,”

“Okay good, can’t have our favourite squad in duress,” Hen nods, happy with your response as she ruffles Nicolas’ hair, earning a chuckle from the boy and only sending Buck deeper into his pit of misery.

He was angry at a child, how pathetic was that.

“Speak of the devil,” Chimney nods his head down one of the hallways, and the group of you all turn your heads in the same direction.

“Daddy!” Nicholas is off immediately, running in the direction of Eddie and Christopher the second he sees them round the corner, and Eddie scoops the boy into his arms with no effort whatsoever.

He always was suited to be a dad. And that arguably made it worse for Buck to watch.

“Everything’s good?” You walk over to the three boys with your head tilted, gaze flickering between Eddie and Christopher at his side.

“All good Mi Amor, he’s perfectly fine,” Eddie presses a kiss to your temple, his free arm sliding around your waist to hold you securely against his side.

And that’s when Buck decides that he’s had enough.

He physically cannot stand to watch you with Eddie like that.

He has to get out of there.

And so he does, standing up abruptly and practically running down one of the corridors, leaving all of you to watch on after him in a mix of shock and confusion.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

When you return to Buck’s hospital room, Eddie has been replaced by Bobby. You can’t really be mad at that, Eddie has Christopher to worry about, and you know that he’s probably having just as hard of a time with Buck’s situation as you are. You can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it is for Eddie to explain the situation to him. How Buck might not wake up.

You didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Hey…” Bobby turns his head up from his rosary beads as you practically whisper out your greeting, pulling a chair over so that you can sit next to him at the foot of Buck’s hospital bed.

He looks just as wrecked as you do.

“Hey,” His hands fall into his lap, thumbs still rolling over the wooden beads as he looks over your state. “How are you holding up?”

“Not great…” You start tearing up almost immediately, hands cupping your nose and your mouth and you lean forward with your elbows on your knees.

Empathy floods Bobby’s expression as he reaches over to rub a hand up and down your back with a soft sigh, watching as silent tears roll over the back of your hands to leave dark dapple marks on your jeans.

“I’m so scared…”

“I know kid,” Bobby pulls you securely against his side with his hand rubbing lines over your arm in a futile attempt to console you, his eyes locked on Buck’s unconscious features. “I’m scared too,”

“What if he never wakes up?” You lean your head against Bobby’s shoulder with a stuttered exhale.

“He’s strong, I have faith in him,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Oh hey kid, fancy meeting you here,” Bobby peeks out from behind a stacked shelf of medical supplies, his tone much lighter and less serious than Buck is used to when working with him.

“Thought you were dead,”Taking a moment to catch him breath, Buck steps further into the room slowly, his tone almost accusatory as his eyes narrow, beginning to tire of running around this fictional copy of his own life. “What are you doing here?”

“You tell me, it’s your dream, I’m just living in it,” Bobby shrugs nonchalantly, rifling through some of the bottles one one of the shelves. “Living my best afterlife,”

“Uh-huh, so I am dead,”

“Close but not quite,” Bobby suddenly changes position to come from behind Buck where he was previously stood in front of him. Because apparently that’s something he can do in this version of the world.

“Hey what do you think these do?” Bobby rattles a white tube container with a hum, tipping an unnumbered amount of pills into his mouth.

“This place is way too messed up to be heaven but uh, I don’t really believe in hell,” Buck exhales with furrowed eyebrows as he tries to comprehend everything. He feels like from the moment he woke up in this place he’s been in a constant haze of confusion, and no matter how much he tries to make sense of it, he can never fully grasp what’s happening.

“I- I’m in purgatory,” He exhales sharply as he accepts his own conclusion, laughing at himself ina derogatory fashion at his apparent stupidness. “I never really understood the concept of this, is th- is this a waiting room? Do I just have to hang here until my number is called or is it like, a-a punishment, a time out— do I have to do some type of penance before I’m allowed to move on?”

“Listen kid,” Bobby pulls an orange-brown translucent bottle from his pocket. “You need to relax,” He takes a large swig from the bottle, almost animatedly. “None of this is real,”

Buck’s features visibly soften at Bobby’s word, and he lets out a short laugh. “Ah, that’s the good news,”

Bobby turns towards a large white cabinet behind him, pulling the two doors open with both hands to reveal a large medicine cabinet. “The bad news is that it can be real enough to keep you here if you let it.”

“Uh, wh-what do you mean?”

Bobby pushes the clear bottles of pills on the middle shelf to the side to reveal a large glass window behind them, gesturing towards it with his head. “Hey look, you’re alive,”

Buck furrows his eyebrows as he cautiously approaches the window, features only furrowing further as they lock onto the image of the two of you in the darkened hospital room.

“And there’s me. Ooh I busted out the rosary beads, must be serious,” The image of Bobby shows him bent forward in his chair with his hands on his knees and his rosary in his hands, muttering soft prayers under his breath as he holds the beads up to his mouth.

“And a pretty lady, your girlfriend? She doesn’t look so good,” That was an understatement. From what Buck could see of the side of your face it looked like you were crying, the tear stains on your cheeks illuminated under the florescent lighting and making his heart wrench at the sight, wanting nothing more to pull you into his arms and kiss all of those tears away.

Then he noticed himself, lying perfectly still on a hospital bed hooked up to so many different machines he wasn’t even sure if he could name them all. “How- am I there and here?”

“Well, Evan Buckley, this is your deep dark subconscious,” Bobby leans over slightly towards Buck, tone slightly ominous.

Then the sound of a door turns both of them back towards the window as they watch Athena walk into the room and place careful hands on both yours and Bobby’s shoulders. “Oh hey, can we back up for a second? Are you telling me that’s my wife?” He exhales through his nose with a nod of satisfaction. “I mean, some things did work out for me didn’t they?”

“Do you know what’s happening to me in there?” Buck’s eyes lock on to what he can see of himself through furrowed eyebrows.

“Depends on how you look at it,” Bobby’s eyes follow his own, and he shrugs nonchalantly. “You could be dying, you could be fighting for your life. It’s kind of up to you,”

Bobby leans over towards Buck once again as he continues to stare at himself. “Which way you leaning?”

“I- don’t know,” Buck blinks softly, seemingly going over the pros and cons in his head. “This felt pretty great at first but… Then the Doug thing happened, then you, and then…” His eyes flicker towards where your sat once more, a soft sigh leaving his mouth.

“Well, I don’t think you can bring me back from the dead even in here, but…” Bobby crosses his arms loosely over his chest. “I think you can fix the Doug thing, maybe even the Eddie thing,”

“Wo- Would that actually work?”

“I don’t know, I’m not exactly bound by the laws of physics and logic here,” Bobby shrugs again and leans forward slightly. “I know what you know,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Athena walks over to Buck’s hospital bed with a sigh, gently laying her hand on Buck’s wrist to rub small circles against his skin. “I don’t know if you can hear me Evan Buckley, but I do know that you never give up. So don’t start now.” She shakes her head with an exasperated exhale, her tone still authoritative despite her obvious emotion towards the situation.

“Bobby has lost… two children. He cannot survive losing you.” She sighs softly, squeezing his wrist just a little. “And your girlfriend, oh the poor girl… She’s distraught over you. You can’t propose to her if you’re like this. So wake up damn it.” She raises her voice ever so slightly at the end of her sentence out of frustration. Mostly at herself, that she cant do anything to help get him out of the situation he’s in.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Wake up.”

“Yeah I’m trying.” Buck gestures exasperatedly with his hands as he walks back towards the hospital waiting room with Bobby following after him. “Just need to figure out what to fix to get back.”

“Maybe you should just give up.” Buck glances over his shoulder at Bobby’s ‘suggestion’, his harsh words contrasting his jovial tone. “Did you know that you were clinically dead for three minutes? Things aren’t looking good for you,”

“How come you’re such a jerk in this reality?” Buck’s tone shift to border frustration as he continues to walk with Bobby following after him.

“Because I am loosing patience.” Buck turns around with a furrowed expression, and the two stop in the middle of the corridor, locked in a stalemate.

“When are you gonna learn?” Bobby crosses his arms over his chest. “Brother’s die, children and their wives die, sisters get beat up by their husbands, girlfriends move on and find someone better, you can’t fix everything.”

“Well I fixed you.” Buck borders on shouting in anger at Bobby’s words.

“Oh really? How?” Bobby stares at him blankly as he anticipates an answer.

Buck takes a few seconds to respond, his eyes narrowing once he’s found his answer. “’Cause I joined the 118… And I mad you mad. And I made you cry. And I made you laugh sometimes, you know?” He exhales sharply, gesturing between himself and Bobby.

“I drove you crazy, but I think you spent so much time trying to make sure that I didn’t get myself killed, that it made you remember what it is to live.”

“So basically,” Bobby meets Buck’s gaze with his own. “You were Buck,”

“Yeah,” Buck seems to relax a little once he’d got everything off his chest, features softening. “I was Buck,”

“And that’s enough?”

Buck turns his gaze down to the ground as he takes a few seconds to think about it, a small breath of a laugh leaving his mouth as he makes his decision. “I think it is,”

“Looks like someone just figured out the answers for himself,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A small group of you stand in Buck’s hospital room as they prepare to disconnect Buck from the ventilator. The priority visitors. His parents stood side by side, wrapped up in each other for mutual comfort, Maddie was hugging herself as an act of self-comfort, and Bobby was stood with his hand on your shoulder trying to comfort you.

The nurse carefully removes the ECMO covering Buck’s mouth and steps back towards the foot of his hospital bed. “And now we wait, see if he takes a spontaneous breath on his own,”

There’s about thirty seconds of silence before the regular beeping of Buck’s heart monitor changes to a jarring sharp sound, and Maddie turns towards the nurse with an anxious expression. “What’s wrong?”

“His oxygen is dropping,” The nurse’s tone is not at all reassuring. “If he doesn’t take a breath in the next few seconds we’re gonna have to reconnect him to the ventilator,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Right uh, this, this is all happening inside my head, which means I’ve been talking to myself this whole time,” Buck takes a sharp breath in as he looks over the perfect mirror of himself in front of him, who gives him a hum with a condescending expression.

“Upside— uh, I don’t have to feel bad about not listening to you anymore-” He shakes his head towards his mirror image before turning to ignore him, swiping all of the bottles off of the shelves to further reveal the glass window, beginning to pull the shelves off of their supports.

“What are you doing?” His mirror laughs sarcastically as he watches.

“I have to get back, I’m running out of time!”

“It’s impossible. There’s no way in there. You’re stuck with me.”

“It’s not impossible!” Buck shouts to be heard over this negative side of himself. “There is not a locked room anywhere that, with the right tools and enough time, you can’t break into.”

He takes a deep breath to regulate his volume, staring at himself with a determined expression. “ I know that.” He lets out a short laugh as he gains a sudden weight in his hand, a bright red fire axe, one that he’d used so many times in the past. “’Cause I’m a firefighter.”

“There’s nothing for you in that room. No one in there needs you.”

“I’m not going back for them. I’m going back for me.” Buck gives the mirror of himself a final look of disgust before turning to swing the axe as hard as he can into the glass, a loud shattering sound verberating through his ears.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You all watching in a terrible anxious anticipation as the jarring beeps continue to blare with no indication of change, your eyes locked on Buck’s face as you all desperately will for him to take a breath without any assistance.

And then he does, and the whole room immediately falls into tears. His parents cling to each other with loud sobs, Maddie’s shoulders tremble as she cups a hand over her mouth, and your knees almost give out underneath you if not for the added support of Bobby keeping you upright.

To say you were all relieved was a universally large understatement.

You were sure you’d never felt happier in your life to know the love of your life was okay. And god forbid you ever let him leave your side again.

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley angst #asks 🚒

[jinkookspencil]

curious boy | jjk

in which jungkook is fascinated by his girlfriend's body...

description/tw/tags: ~1.2k words / jungkook x chubby (f) reader / one-shot drabble / fluff / established relationship but it’s early on in the relationship / brief mentions of past insecurities but i wouldn’t say y/n is insecure during this / mentions of stretch marks & a squishy tummy - all of those things are absolutely beautiful <3 / clean except for one kiss, mentions of "more" happening, but really they’re just lying in bed together / this is for my fellow curvy/chubby/plus girlies, always here for you beautiful ones and i hope you like this / feedback is always welcome and it's appreciated!

“Squish!”

The word escapes Jungkook as a squeal. A giddy, excited, thoroughly amused one, complete with a wide smile on his face, inches away from your abdomen. You’d grown used to Jungkook squeezing, slapping, grabbing your body real quick - you had no choice, really. Neither of you could keep your hands off each other, and while you loved tousling his hair and grazing his muscles and abs, he squeezed…. everything. Your ass and tits were expected to say the least, Jungkook’s favorite playthings and stress toys - grabbing them whenever and wherever - but the tummy squishes were new and still something you had to get used to. Sure, your tummy was round, plump, and thus definitely squeezable… but no one had ever really squished it before either… Not even you…

But there he was, squeezing away in complete joy… It was hard to say you didn’t feel the same happiness right then and there. In the dark room, illuminated only by the red light setting on Jungkook’s galaxy light projector… you could almost make out his lips pursing. The curly strands over his eyes prevented you from knowing if it was the same look he had on his face when he wanted to kiss you - you could almost make out his furrowed brows - but the head tilt he does immediately afterward gives it away. Wanting to feel his lips on you, you reach out your hand towards him, hoping he’d take it or let you push his head down, but instead all you feel is the breath of the words that leave his mouth.

“What are these?”

Sitting up, you finally realize what Jungkook had been looking at so intently. Your stretch marks.

“Nothing," you almost spit out immediately, not knowing why you reverted to that answer. A reflex, most likely…

Of course, Jungkook, being Jungkook, innocently took your mindless, relaxed state as an invitation to roll over and cuddle up against you… But what he didn’t know what that you… lying there, in your bed, with your hands in your hair and your full body and tummy exposed in the dimly lit room, your boyfriend centimeters away from it….

It was all new. It was the same old bed you hid in with your ‘extra measures’ and safety nets to hide your body…. The forced habit of latching onto blankets. Lingerie that “flattered” and thus hid. Lies about liking to sleep fully clothed and in total pitch-black darkness… Even a boyfriend that wanted to be that cuddly was new…

But… you remembered.

That all those ‘habits’ were… entirely forgotten.

That your body was simply a body.

That your boyfriend loved to touch. And kiss.

That he was a curious boy. A caring, non-judgemental boy who made you feel loved in the most obvious, loudest ways with bold declarations and in the most intimate, delicate moments. Whether he was tickling and teasing you in public, delicately grazing your arms in the middle of the night when he thought you were asleep, or insisting on taking your photos, even swatting your arms away whenever you tried to cover your body as a reflex… He made you feel loved and safe before you’d even uttered the defining words to each other. What reason was there to hide or lie, especially when it came to the love of your life?

“They’re not nothing. I don’t have them,” Jungkook says as he sits up, resting on his forearms now, inspecting your marks more closely.

Something in his clueless words and innocence stung just a tiny bit. He’s never even been with someone with stretch marks before. Even so, looking at him now, still a breath away from your skin…. you felt no fear.

“Are they scars?” he asks with wide, concerned eyes while you process his wonder and the intense curiosity that made you fall in love with him.

“They’re stretch marks, Jungkook…. They appear when the skin… stretches,” you explain.

“My skin stretched too…. over the years.... Why didn’t I get any?” he… pouts.

“Jungkook…. they appeared because of the... fat. Not exactly your muscles and that type of weight gain.”

He nods slowly in realization before looking at you with raised eyebrows and his fingers hovering above the long marks, asking to touch them…. With a deep breath, you nod, and Jungkook begins to trace.

“Do they hurt?” he asks quietly. The breath of his words against your skin tingles.

“No,” you answer with a giggle, calming Jungkook’s own nerves.

“Oh,” he nods before stretching across your abdomen to turn on the reading light and see them more clearly. A smile appears on his face.

“Shiny.”

“I guess,” you say, looking away from your boyfriend’s hands on your tummy and towards his face. You’d never seen him so fascinated.

“They’re kind of like tattoos, huh? Just some your body made on its own. Which is really cool. I think that’s my favorite thing about them. They tell a story, too. And they shine? Tattoos don’t...” A quick pout reappears on his face, but a moment later, Jungkook’s eyes smile before his lips do.

“Pretty.”

“Pretty?” You can’t help but scoff, still staring at him while he continued to marvel at your body, only now realizing that you had some on your hips as well.

“Mhm,” he nods. “You don’t think so?”

“I accept them but…. You might’ve convinced me that they’re cool. It’ll take me a while to think they’re actually pretty, though.”

“Nah, don’t just accept them. They’re pretty. They’re cool. Just like you. Just like my girl.”

At that, Jungkook finally looks up at you, an adorable smile on his face. He crouches down, seemingly to rest his head on your soft belly, but before you’d let him do that, you can’t help but sit up and pull him closer by the nape of his neck, kissing his soft lips and smiling against them.

It doesn’t feel like a weight off your chest - Jungkook and his acceptance - no… no, it wasn’t even acceptance. All of it… It really was…

“I love you,” you instantly whisper, breaking away ever so slightly, with your nose brushing against his.

Something between a sigh and a giggle escapes the both of you, but Jungkook stops you short with a kiss so long and electrifying you almost forgot he hadn’t said the words back until he stops to do so.

“I love you… so much.”

With another kiss, he bends down to rest his head on your pillowy stomach, and against it, you could feel his smile, the cold touch of his lip ring, the slow beating of his heart, and the weight of his body on yours.

Tracing the mark closest to him, you hear mumbles of “pretty,” “jealous,” and “very cool” before the words turn intelligible sounds and soon enough into snores, and your boy falls into what you're sure would be a quick nap before he asked you to take off your bra and go for another ‘round’ as he calls it... if you didn't fall asleep first. Either way, you knew he'd wake you up in the morning with breakfast, coffee, and kisses, as he always did. The day would end with another cuddle session, perhaps more, and you'd happily spend the rest of your days this way... Except with a few more crop tops and bralettes in your wardrobe... Since both of you liked seeing you shine. ☀

#bts x chubby reader #jungkook x chubby reader #bts x plus size reader #bts x curvy reader #bts fluff #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #jungkook reaction #bts reaction #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader

[luxaofhesperides]

(yourlocalcorviddad)

Wait wait wait, can there be more written about the one with Duke going on college tours with Danny??? If it's not too late?!??

(part one)

Danny’s been in love with Duke for years now. It’s always been kept a closely guarded secret, buried under as many wraps as he could get it. He tried to chase after other fleeting crushes in the hopes of moving on from his feelings for Duke, sure that they were never going to go anywhere.

How could they, when they lived states apart? 

The Danny back then would have never believed that he would one day be waking up in Duke’s arms in a hotel far away from home, traveling around the country to figure out a future together. 

Or rather, planning their own futures by each other’s sides, rather than planning to be together throughout college. Danny knows they’ll be spending even more years apart, chasing after their dreams, but it’s a gift just to a a summer together again. So what if it leads them to living on opposite sides of the country? They’ve managed to survive a long distance friendship for this long, they can keep it up for another few years.

And if it comes to it, Danny can just fly to wherever Duke is. He’s only gotten faster over the years, settling into his powers and practicing them so often. 

The future is daunting, but all his nerves are chased away by Duke’s smiles. 

“Can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says as they get settled at a restaurant in Massachusetts. They’re both tired, but the giddiness of getting together, of knowing their feelings are requited, keeps them energized and happy despite the long drive across state lines. 

“One state left, yeah?”

“Yeah, and I got Harvard first on the list so we can visit Jazz.”

“You’re the best,” Danny grins, stretching his legs out under the table to lightly knock his foot against Duke’s. 

This entire trip has felt like a daydream to him. It’s one thing being able to travel around the country with Duke, but to be able to kiss him wherever they go? Even now, two weeks later, Danny can’t believe how happy he is.

It makes the uncertainty of his future less scary. It helps distract him from how much he wants to escape his parents, despite how much he loves them.

Their conversation comes to a brief pause as a waiter comes by to take their order, writing everything down before hurrying away to keep up with the rush of activity in the semi-busy restaurant. 

“Oh,” Danny says, suddenly remembering the third person in their group, “Is Peter going to be joining us?” 

Peter, Duke’s chaperones, is odd but funny. He disappears and reappears like a magician, always carries a gun on him, and treats Duke like a little brother the rare moments he’s around. He’s mostly only been with them to act as transport, driving them around from university to university. 

Duke’s face does something strange when he hears Peter’s name, but it’s gone before Danny can figure out what that’s all about.

“Nah,” he answers, “He’s off doing his own thing. You’ve seen how he likes to follow his own plans.”

“So I guess we’re stopping here for the day?”

“Yeah. I’m sure we can find somewhere nice to spend the night, and until then we can explore—” Duke takes a quick moment to check the name of the town they’re in, helpfully stated on the restaurant’s wall of five star reviews “—Baldwinville. I’m sure there’s something for us to do around here.”

“I mean, we don’t have to do anything special, you know. I’d be happy to just to spend the day with you.”

Duke smiles softly, reaching over the table to take hold of Danny’s hand. “I’d like that too. Maybe we should just take some time and explore the place together. Have a relaxing day before we head to Cambridge.”

“That’ll be nice. I feel like it’s been forever since I had a quiet day.”

“Same!” Duke laughs. “Gotham’s wild, man. Did I ever tell you the story of having a barbeque with Killer Croc?”

“No! I can’t believe you kept that from me!”

Duke launches into the story as if it’s any other day, just the two of them hanging out. Danny’s enraptured as he always is when Duke shares his Gotham Stories. He doesn’t falter even when their food is brought out, and Danny tries not to blush too hard when Duke feeds Danny some of his meal, just so he can try it. 

There’s a reason Danny sometimes daydreams about what his wedding with Duke will look like, and it’s because of this.

But that’s getting way ahead of himself! He shoves the thoughts away and focuses on the story, enjoying their lunch together. 

Duke pays when they’re done, as has become routine; Danny had fought him about the first few times before Duke told him that it was all ‘Bruce fucking Wayne’s money so they don’t need to worry about costs.’ It’s a gift from the man himself to Duke, and rejecting it would be rude. 

That hit Danny right in his midwestern politeness and he could do nothing but let it happen, already planning thank you gifts for Bruce Wayne. 

They walk out into the quiet streets of Baldwinville, hand in hand. Summer has the air humid and full of buzzing insects, and the sweet scent of flowers surrounds them as they head down the sidewalk, idly looking into the display windows of each store they pass. The buildings are old, mostly made of brick, and carry a charm that’s lacking in the urban sprawl of Amity Park.

He likes it here. 

Honestly, he’s been liking a lot of what he’s seen in Massachusetts. 

He wouldn’t mind spending a few years here as he gets his Bachelor’s degree. Of course, it all depends on if he gets into the colleges of his choice, but he’s feeling hopeful about his future. He’s worked hard to bring his GPA up after his freshman year, and his ability to juggle and extreme workload has made him a master at getting things done before deadlines and adapting to things at the last minute. 

Danny idly swings their clasped hands between them as they walk, savoring the time they have together. 

The end of their summer trip is creeping up on them and Danny can feel the distance between them start to pull tight. 

They don’t speak until they wander into a park, just a large grassy field filled with wildflowers and bees. There are a few benches placed beneath large trees and Duke leads them over to it to take advantage of the offered shade.

“I can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says, sitting down with a sigh. He tugs Danny down after him, and Danny goes willingly. He swings his legs up to drop them across Duke’s lap, leaning against him, his heart fluttering when Duke gets a hand around his thigh to keep him in place. 

“I don’t want this summer to end,” Danny admits. “I’m not ready to leave you again.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’m not going to be away from you any longer than I have to.”

Danny can’t resist the urge to lean over and kiss him, so he doesn’t. Duke meets him with a smile, keeping the kiss slow and sweet, though the way his hand skates up Danny’s thigh sends molten heat through his veins.

He pulls back before they can escalate any further (one time in public was enough; he’s still embarrassed by it and can’t look Peter in the eyes) and leans his head against Duke’s shoulder. “It would be nice if we could live together.”

“Planning out our future already? Well, in that case, I want a dog and a pet snake.”

“Why a pet snake?”

“Just feel like it.”

“A dog would be nice,” Danny says, “As long as it gets along with Cujo. Not sure about the snake, but if you can take care of it, I’d be fine with having it around.”

“Think you’d ever live in Gotham?”

Danny considers, then shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno, it sounds like a lot and I already dealt with so much just with the ghosts in Amity Park. But I don’t think I’d mind if I was with you.”

The smile that crosses Duke’s face is soft and Danny wants to see it all the time. He loves when Duke gets flustered; Danny just turns red and shy, but Duke becomes soft and adoring in a way that makes Danny feel like he’s holding sunlight, all warm and happy.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Duke says, not yet able to bite back his smile. “Now that we’ve visited most of the places on our list, do you know which ones you’re going to apply to?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Danny answers. He’s been thinking about where he wants to go since summer started and he left school with Mr. Lancer reminder everyone to think about college and preparing their applications. 

It’s been a topic that’s never left his mind since for the past couple months, wondering about what the future holds for him. He honestly never thought he’s get this far, having died at 14 and struggled to adapt to how his life changed after. But he’s gotten back on track with school, has a handle on the ghosts, and the support of his parents to go anywhere he wants. 

For so long he’s been stuck in the routine of school, fight, struggle. There was never any time for anything else, much less planning for the future, and now it’s hanging heavy over his head. 

At least he gets to be with Duke as he figures things out. It’s like going back to their childhood, spending summers together, but they’re both grown up now, walking ever closer to the next stages of their lives. 

He’d love to get into MIT, but he knows the chances of being accepted are insanely low. He’ll apply anyways, just in case, but Danny’s prepared to go somewhere else. Maybe somewhere else in Massachusets. Or maybe go to New York. 

“I really liked the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. If I get in, I think I’m gonna go there,” Danny says, putting his hopes for the future into words.  

“Yeah? I think I might try to get into a college up here too,” Duke replies. “If things work out, we won’t be so far from each other.”

“And even if we do end up far away again, we can make long distance work. Right?”

There’s a worry in the back of his mind that Duke won’t like a long distance relationship, that he’ll be off in college falling in love with someone else, but there’s barely a second before Duke says, “Of course,” as though it’s obvious. Like he hadn’t considered any other option. 

Danny’s heart settles and he shoves away the rest of his general anxieties. There’s no time for that now! 

He intends to enjoy the rest of his summer trip with Duke to the fullest extent possible, which means all of that is a problem for Future Danny.

“Should we go find Peter? We’ll need to figure out where we’re staying tonight.”

“I think we can go a few more hours to a bigger town,” Duke says, “Not that this place isn’t nice, it’s just too quiet. It’s weird.”

“Alright, city boy,” Danny says, standing up from the bench. He pulls Duke up after him, leaning over to kiss the exaggerated offended expression off his face. It’s not like he’s wrong, anyways; Gotham is a big city, and Duke is an urban boy through and through, especially compared to Danny, who comes from a large town and has family living in reclusive rural Appalachia.

“Small towner,” Duke returns, nipping lightly at Danny’s bottom lip and laughing when he squeaks in surprise.

He pulls away before Danny can retaliate, and Danny lets him go, saving his revenge for after they get to their next hotel. 

Their time together is coming to an end soon, and as much as the future terrifies and excites him in equal measure, knowing Duke will be with him, one way or another, gives him the courage to keep going.

He hopes Jazz will be happy that Duke’s dating him now. He’s already hoping to ask her to be a bridesmaid for him.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #part one is dukes pov of him crushing on danny and looking forward to a fun summer #and this part is dannys pov where hes like i LOVE him im planning to MARRY him!!! #hes whipped is what im saying #they do know abt each others powers and all but thats not relevant rn lol. the hero ids are still secret but not for long >:) #as in theyre just gonna be like 'oh shit you too?' and roll w it #kings of going w the flow #anyways!! i like to think that duke will go to umass amherst and danny to the institute he named in this fic #so they live a state away from each other and danny flies over to duke every weekend #their college friends are all lowkey jealous of how good their long distance rship is. everyone wants what they have!!! #thanks for the prompt!! #this is the last one for this batch of ghostlights prompts!!! cant believe i managed to write all of them :)

[ktsumu]

RESOLUTIONS (this year is different) tw: alcohol consumption

This year, you wait for January in an apartment that is packed full.

You’re familiar with everyone, for the most part, all people who have played with Ushijima over the years, all people you’ve watched in one jersey or another. Everyone is laughing, happy — even Wakatoshi himself who, normally quite reserved, laughs with one of his teammates, a glass half-full in hand.

This year is different, you tell yourself. 

You know that, whenever you're all drunk enough to call it a night, you’ll call a cab and go home, probably kiss on the way there. He’ll lean on the bathroom counter and giggle while you smear your makeup away with a wipe, then take it from you and do it himself. He’ll be so much worse at it, but he’ll be gentle, and you’ll let him.

This year, you’re going to let yourself be loved. You’re excited to let him.

You watch Wakatoshi from your place on the couch, a small smile on your face. Happy looks good on him; he’s handsome when he’s free. His smile gives him lines around his mouth, his eyes crinkle. His laugh is saccharine. 

He doesn’t notice you’re watching, either, it’s not often he does. It’s not hard to be subtle — your eyes typically find him, anyway, golden boy wherever he goes.

This year, I’m going to let myself be loved.

You met him years ago, sort of in a situation like this. You were both in a bar in Tokyo, you think, and he stuck out like a sore thumb; freshly twenty and new to this, surrounded by teammates who made it obvious he’s never been to a bar before.

They also made it obvious he was new to a lot of things, likely why they made it so obvious in how they were jabbing his side with their elbows, nodding to you sat a few seats down. Go talk to her, she’s totally into you, she’s pretty!

(He didn’t even talk when he first sat down — you offered him a shot he probably needed and he took it.)

The rest is history.

It feels weird to think about going home. Home. You live with him, the bills get paid. He has smile lines and stretch marks on his shoulders. He’s going to take your makeup off for you because he’s seen you in every way you come. You have a house and you have a home — your friend said she thinks he might propose this year.

Growing pains are scarier when they’re not in your knees.

You only notice he’s moved when the couch sinks beside you. Wakatoshi sits next to you, a close-lipped smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and he rests a hand on your thigh.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and it’s just the two of you.

You look over his face, his flushed cheeks. You smile, too. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Wakatoshi is gentle when he guides you towards him, his hand on your nape, kissing you like you’ve never done it before. He tastes like Tennessee, and like a resolution. 

This year, I’m going to kiss him more.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Whatever dread you carried before, it’s going away now.

“You are?” you tease, pulling back to really look at him. An anonymous hand walks by and ruffles his hair, like he’s scoring his first girl, and carries on. He doesn’t look up. 

“Very.”

“Mm,” you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I guess I’m glad I’m here with you, too.”

“I mean, I would hope so.”

“Hah,” you snort, “I’m excited to go home, too.”

He scoffs, as if he isn’t typically the reserved one; as if he wasn’t the one you had to convince to make a show here. “You want to get out so soon?”

“What, you’re not excited to deal with me at home?” you giggle, craning your head to look up at him. “Not excited to spend, like, a fat hour getting ready for bed?”

He snickers again, taking a sip of his drink. He squints like he drank it too quickly. 

“Like last year?”

“Yup. Except, I don’t know about the last part. I’m gonna pass out the second I hit the mattress, ‘Toshi.”

“That’s okay, I’ll tuck you in.”

Your chest warms, and you both laugh. One of you starts it, but you don’t remember who.

“You’re gonna tuck me in and take my makeup off, huh?”

“Like last year,” he confirms. “And get you water — get us both water,”

“Mm, you’ll need it, big guy.”

“I am fine.”

“Yeah, I know. As long as you can see where my face is, that’s good enough for me.”

“I can find it blind,” he says simply, smoothing your hair back and out of your face. “But yes, I can see it fine.”

You smile all crooked — he tilts his head like he wants to see it upright. 

“We’re gettin' older, huh ‘Toshi?”

“That is how years work, yes.”

“Going home,” you say; your thoughts are all out loud. “Going to bed.”

He smiles — he loves it. “Unless you want to stay out?”

“No, no, I want to. I’m just,” you take a deep breath, “thinking. This’ll be how many years?”

“Not enough,” he says simply. “I wanna do this forever.”

“Hah, well, I have no doubt your body could sustain years of New Years Eve parties—”

“I meant going home,” he interrupts. “Taking off your makeup, getting you water, and kissing you goodnight.”

Your heart swells to the point of being uncomfortable, the lump in your throat impossibly there. His hand hasn’t left your thigh, it hasn’t risen higher, it just sits there. His touch is warm like a swaddle, unmoving. It’s so familiar that you lean into it like you're being carried to bed.

Wakatoshi grins; it’s crooked and you tilt your head to see it upright. “Every year, I think I love you a little more.”

(The dread you had is gone now — why you ever had it, you don’t know for sure.)

This year is different, you tell yourself. This year, you’re gonna grow.

There’s a cheer throughout the room, all this laughter becoming a dull muffle when the room seems to reach the sound capacity the little space has. There’s kazoos, glass clinking, goofy hats falling to the floor — people are singing:

“Happy new year, love,” he murmurs, and he captures your lips again.

This year, I’m gonna grow.

I’m gonna let him love it, and maybe I’ll love it, too. 

#not proofread but first fic of 2024 that i wrote in literally 20 minutes at best. be kind to her she's sensitive #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #tw alchohol mention #tw alcohol consumption #tw alcohol #kit writes

[celestialtarot11]

Details About Your Wedding 💖🥂

• Hi friends! 🌹✨ Welcome to another PAC where you can find out the details of your wedding! I’m so excited to have put this together for ya’ll. I’m also loving the editing 👀💗 gotta give myself credit 🤣 but anyway, do enjoy! 🤍 likes comment and reblogs are appreciated.

Pile 1: Seven of pentacles • Knight of cups • Divine wisdom

Right away I see a beautiful wedding, something outdoorsy. With lots of flowers, pink and white specifically! I see a white arch with gold, and round tables in a sunny setting ✨ such a beautiful nature themed wedding. I heard around 100 guests, or a little over! Some of you may have small families, so the wedding is not massive. I’m seeing a court date wedding too, so some of ya’ll may not like to go big and that’s okay! I see a bride coming forward abundantly and reassured 🤍 she has such a loving and caring spirit. You don’t have to be female for this to resonate at all! I just see someone as the bride coming in with an abundant spirit. Wherever the bride goes, abundance flows 🌟 I see guests crying as well, so definitely people will be happy for you and your marriage. A well rounded partner is what I heard too, someone who works hard and is diligent, and noble 🥂✨ someone who takes care of their image, but does not let their image get in the way of love. I see a sudden windfall of money for the bride just before the wedding, so some of you may receive a huge dowry! Or have a bonus sent to you. The groom is emotional, as he waits for the bride and looks at the bride sweetly 💗 and when she comes to the arch, he holds her hands and smiles at her. Tears are in his eyes as he imagined the day over and over, and now it’s happening. Aww. Such a sweet, caring and passionate partner you guys will be with! They may have larger hands is what spirit is sneaking in 🤣 the bride and groom put the rings on, and everyone parties! Overall it’s not chaotic, it’s a sweet and simple wedding 🤍🥂 congrats to you for the future! Thank you pile 1, if you’d love to support this blog its greatly appreciated! 

Pile 2: Page of wands • 10 of pentacles rev. • 5 of swords

Don’t worry pile 2’s! We’ll explain what’s going on 🤣💖 A very passionate, bold and wild spirit represents your groom. They are attracted to you in what they see, and spiritually there already is a connection. Wands are spiritual in nature! It’s possible things before getting married were difficult, and stressful in regard to the future. Especially when it comes to finances. So maybe one or both of you struggled to have such a big wedding, or wanted that dream, and had to compromise for the budget. Both of you are excited and nervous because of wedding 🤍 but I see the worries won’t last long as the event carries on and everyone enjoys the day. I think there is worry that either you, or the groom won’t be accepted by the in laws. But they end up supporting the wedding, and showing up 💗 commitment is important between you two no matter what circumstances you face, I see that’s a strong message. And after you two marry, within a week or two, I heard a new beginning will unfold. This could be in terms of jobs, one or both of you will find stable jobs and grow financially to support the relationship in the future. But anyway! To the wedding. The bride is enigmatic and a show stopper 😍 catching everyone’s attention. Maybe the bride has a surprise dance planned! A very bold, and powerful dance. I’m seeing with a few other dancers and the theme is black, and I’m hearing Partition by Beyoncé. Wow, so some of ya’ll really want to show your partner what they’re getting for life alright 🤣 it’s a bit of a tease for your partner, and yet not too vulgar for the audience. Your partner will be amazed, stunned, too stunned to speak is what I heard. And absolutely attracted. The passion you two share explodes that night 🥂✨ thank you pile 2’s! I hope you liked this and please support the blog 🤍 it’s always appreciated!

Pile 3: Seven of swords • Three of swords • 4 of wands

Pile 3, welcome! 🤍🥂 lets talk about what we have going on here. For the wedding I am seeing a very expensive and elegant wedding. Chandeliers, large pieces hanging down, huge ballroom space, crystal table pieces as well. Almost like Swarovski is what I want to say. Lots of effort went into this wedding and dedication, I’m seeing many planners working to decorate the space. Red and white roses decorating the walk ways, arches, and all around as a theme. Even outside it’s beautiful and gorgeous for the wedding. Very neat with the flowers and gorgeous! Some of ya’ll may be Arab too. You know how they like their roses 🤣 anyway! There is a lot of anxiety and stress surrounding the wedding, one because of preparation, two because it’s the wedding, and three both of you are afraid something may go wrong. Now I don’t know why, but it’s understandable to feel stressed that day. The 4 of wands is literally the ultimate marriage card to get! So I believe both of you truly want this, and are truly excited. Both of you are spiritually harmonizing and unionizing as well in this wedding. Your spirits agree with one another. I think there is anxiety about what people will think, or if people will like the venue is what I heard. And if family will support the marriage. Which is all understandable. I see when the bride walks in she is absolutely stunning and classy. Updo, neutral makeup, but captures her facial structure perfectly 😍 I also heard Albanian! So maybe you or another is Albanian or Arab. When she walks in there is a strong presence from her, yet so gentle. Grandparents are crying from what I see, and the groom is absolutely amazed. He is strong, and has a resilient heart. When he holds your hand he walks in faith with you. You don’t have to question his motives is what I heard. Absolutely beautiful pile 3! He is confident he wants this, and you do too. Beautiful ✨🤗 thank you pile 3! Please like comment and reblog, its always appreciated 🥹💖 thank you so much!

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#devi post #astrology #astrology community #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot deck #tarot #witchcraft #tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a card romance #pick a picture #pick a card

[sserpente]

Memories to Enemies 🎃

Synopsis: The TVA is no more—not like it was before, anyway. When the multiverse breaks free, Loki finds himself back where he belongs, on the verge of claiming the throne of Midgard and this time… this time he finishes what he started. But while he’s gained so much, he’s lost even more, for there was one thing the chaos of the timelines had not fixed—it hasn’t brought you back to him. You, the mortal he had refused to fall for until he realised it was too late all along. He never stopped searching for you after Thanos snapped his fingers and now, with so many timelines at the tip of his fingers and a tempad in his pocket… you were out there somewhere and he will find you. But when he finally does… he realises that not only are you the leader of the very rebels aiming to end his ruling, you are a Variant. And you don’t remember him.

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN, people! 🎃 Requests from two anons. There are no spoilers for Season 2 in this. I’ll have some more spooky Halloween Imagines coming up this week (I hope), I just didn’t manage to get any writing done as I had initially planned because I spent the whole weekend queueing at Comic Con, haha!

Words: 2407 Warnings: smut

Additional NSFW warnings: edging, very light dub-con

“The rebels are causing trouble again, my king.”

“Which is to say you are unable to deal with a bunch of disobedient humans?” Loki looked up, legs spread on the makeshift throne in what used to be Stark Tower. He lifted his chin, his menacing glare all but intimidating the former politician, now reduced to nothing more than a lackey.

“N-no, of course not. I just thought you should know. They… they made it to the lower levels of the tower last night.”

Loki narrowed his eyes, leaning forward a little. “Who did?”

“The rebels, their leader… we caught her face on camera but… security managed to overwhelm them. I believe they were trying to plant explosives somewhere in the building.”

“Where are they now?”

“They’re being held in the cellars.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “You should have led with that, you fool. Send them up. No… bring me their leader. I believe it is time we have a little chat about where her… loyalties lie.”

The politician nodded and excused himself. Silence filled the room after he left and Loki sat back again and sighed. Those rebels were hardly a threat to him but if they had made it to the tower… he would have to up his game and patch the holes in his security. A spell or two should suffice. Possibly something that would make any uninvited guest grow mushrooms all over their body should they trespass.

If only… he sighed once more. If only he had you by his side. You had always loved this time of the year, made him hand out sweets for children and carve out pumpkins. After all this madness… he still had not found you again. You had been snapped away in the sacred timeline, so he had found out… and even though the now-forgotten Avengers had reversed the titan’s doing, you remained unfound, out of his reach. Wherever you were… he would tear every single timeline apart until he had you back by his side. Would you be overjoyed, to see him where he belonged? On the throne, ruling as he was meant to be?

“The prisoner, my king.” The politician returned after the metal elevator doors swung open yet again, dragging with him a young woman who carried herself quite regally despite her predicament. She lifted her head, her hair revealing her face…

Loki’s face dropped. It was you. You… you were the rebel foolishly trying to put an end to his reign? Desperation and relief paired with anger and disappointment, the sadness that had been residing deep in his heart after he had lost you not quite going away. Something was off.

“Leave her here. Get out.”

“No security, my king?”

“I can handle a mortal woman. Now get out.”

The politician nodded and left without another word all the while you kept on staring at Loki as if you were ready to plunge a dagger into his chest any moment. You probably were—and it broke his heart a lot more than he would have liked to admit.

Your eyes widened when he spoke your name. “So you already know me then.”

“Know you? I have been looking for you for years, pet.”

You blinked. “Pet?”

Loki’s face fell when he realised. You did not know. You did not recognise him. You did not… love him yet. It mattered little, now did it? He would make you love him again, he would restore your memories. Were you a Variant? Had you met him? Had Thanos’ horrors taken your memories? He had to find out, needed to find out.

“You will not believe me, of course. But you were in love with me. I lost you when Thanos snapped his fingers. My path, too, changed. That is a story for another time. Come here, pet. It is so good to see you,” he purred.

Containing his emotions and his excitement had never been so difficult. He all but longed to jump up from his throne and sweep you up into his arms, holding you close until you struggled to breathe. But he didn’t. He wanted you to come to him. Only you remained frozen in place. He could practically feel the defiance radiating from you.

“I’m not falling for your stupid tricks, Loki.”

The God of Mischief smirked. “Would you like me to prove it, pet? Ah, let’s see… I just so happen to know you love Halloween. Carving out pumpkins… handing out sweets to children… watching scary films and eating this disgusting snack you call popcorn… and of course, how could I forget, the hot chocolate with small marshmallows and whipped cream on top? It’s reserved only for months that have the letter ‘r’ in them, no?”

Loki watched with great satisfaction how your lips parted in shock. He stood, taking a step forward. “What else… ah…” He tilted his head. “There is a particularly sweet and sensitive spot on your body that has you absolutely feral for your lover. It is… right… here.” He took another step and brought his hand up to brush his thumb over the spot right below your ear. You shivered, clenching your jaw.

“Lies… y-you’re… you’re tricking me.”

“No tricks,” he purred, “only treats.”

To Hel with the restraint. With a low growl, Loki pulled you close, lifting you off your feet. Your rather pathetic resistance died quickly once you realised that you weren’t going anywhere. Loki was too strong—you’d do well to save your strength for when it truly mattered. But… did you want to?

Why, on Earth, was there a part of you that enjoyed his touch? The way he looked at you… so full of hope and lust… that could not be acted, could it? To win over the leader of the rebellion, make her compliant… was that his plan? Or was he telling the truth?

And if he was, then what would have ridden you to dedicate your life to stopping him at all cost? Heavens, last night, you had attempted an assassination.

Loki put you back down on your feet once you reached his bedroom. He had redecorated, of course. Everything was green and gold, even his bed sheets. It looked… beautiful. Homely, almost and faintly familiar.

A shiver brought you back from the depths of your mind when Loki sneaked his hand under your shirt, slowly pushing it up.

“Do you truly think it’s a coincidence you react this way to me?” He tilted his head, smirking when you flinched at his fingertips ghosting over your bare stomach. He was right. He was so right and you hated it. Part of you wanted him—right here and now. The other part was seething and then, yet another… wanted to give in to his advances out of curiosity.

“Why… why don’t I remember then?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, pet. We will restore your memories. You could be a Variant—a version of yourself from another timeline who has not yet met me. We will worry about this later. I missed you.”

He sounded so… genuine, so full of relief. It was not hard to believe him. But how could you? You hated this man, you loathed how he had taken Earth for himself and declared himself its ruler… you would never kneel before him… right?

Why were you questioning yourself? Perhaps… perhaps it was for when you gazed into his blue eyes, you detected just how troubled his soul was. There was more to this than tyranny. More than a hunger for power.

You ceased to resist when he pulled your shirt off of you. Mesmerised, dazed… perhaps even charmed, you lifted your arms for him to remove it and then allowed him to make short work of your trousers. Only a few more moments passed until you stood completely naked before him, breathing heavily.

His kiss was soft when he held your chin with two fingers, almost as if testing the waters. Your eyes… your eyes fell shut. Why… how did this feel so good?

“Give in to me, pet. Let me show you.”

You bit your lower lip. “I’m supposed to hate you.”

He chuckled. “Why yes… We can speak about your little rebellion after I have had my fill of you. You always longed to be by my side, pet. What changed?”

“I don’t know you.” And perhaps that was the reason. You did not know him. Did not yet see behind the mask. Would things be different if you did? You could have tried to kill him the very moment you stepped out of the elevator. So why hadn’t you? Would you, under different circumstances, support his cause? Aid in his rule? Rule… by his side? That was such a silly thought, wasn’t it?

And yet… even though the arrogant god kept calling you his pet… the way he looked at you made you feel like he regarded you as his equal. Maybe your subconscious knew that there was more to it. Maybe your soul had recognised him.

“Then I will make you know me again. You, my darling, are the one good thing that has ever happened to me. I will not give you up.”

You swallowed, unsure of whether you should regret the words that left your lips next. “S-show me.”

“With pleasure.” Loki smirked, lifting you up once more. The warm leather of his armour against your naked skin made you whimper but it was gone within a heartbeat, melted off his body in a green hue of his magic. It felt tingly, familiar… as if you’d felt it a million times before.

The God of Mischief crawled above you, spreading your legs as he did. Skin against skin, he towered above you like the king he was, his raven hair framing his handsome face. You resisted the urge to reach up and stroke his cheek—just about, for when he leaned down and assaulted your neck with his lips, you dug your nails into the soft bed sheets instead, fighting, desperately, for composure your body was eager to give up.

Every touch, every kiss… it felt right. And you were craving more.

A gasp escaped your lips when Loki sank his length into you with but one deep stroke—it was both out of pure bliss at his size and surprise at how wet you were. How had him undressing you slowly done that?

Deep and languid thrusts soon drove you to the brink of madness. No one… no one had ever fucked you as well as Loki was fucking you right now, and the fact that he seemed to know exactly what turned you on almost filled you with fear.

The intense eye contact, the gentle touches, the soft dominance radiating from him… without a doubt he would pin you against the bed if you so much as attempted to flip around and ride him instead without… without asking for permission?

You whimpered at the thought, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You were close already. Loki was working his magic… firm and yet gentle, you felt it teasing your clit, applying just enough pressure to bring you closer and closer to climax. Once he had you there, right on the edge, the delicious pressure eased, his rhythm speeding up.

“You’re enjoying it…” Loki purred—his tone smug, if anything. You groaned.

And then, once again… he pushed you toward that blissful cliff only to stop—again—right before you could fall. You realised soon enough what he was doing. He was edging you. No one… no one knew about your filthiest desires and kinks. So how did he? He really was telling the truth, wasn’t he?

You pretended to hate this but you loved it… loved how he was in control of your pleasure, able to take it away if he so wished… urgh.

“What is it, pet, hmm? Did you want something?” His strokes were relentless—how he managed not to rut into you like a beast you had no fucking clue.

“P-please…” you choked out, “…let me cum.”

Loki tilted his head. “I think you can do better than that.”

Another grunt on your end but this time, you were ready to throw hands—only the God of Mischief above you didn’t let you. The invisible force tormenting your clit wrapped around your wrists like invisible shackles, holding them in place.

“Please…” you repeated, “…I need to cum. Stop… teasing me…”

“Let me hear it one more time, pet. Scream for me.”

A groan of frustration escaped your lips. All helpless beneath him, there was nothing you could do but endure his torturing treatment. Your toes curled, that all too familiar knot in your lower stomach tightening…

“Oh, fuck, please, please, PLEASE! Just… LET ME CUM ALREADY!” Loki chuckled—he chuckled and then, finally, the delicious pressure on your clit returned. And this time… it didn’t stop again. You tensed up, all air knocked from your lungs as your orgasm washed over you. Contracting around Loki’s cock who did not stop rocking into you for a second, fucking you right through your moment of utter bliss until he too, came.

Loki’s moans were quite possibly the sexiest thing you had ever heard as he buried himself inside of you as deep as he could, coating your walls with his seed, twitching and jerking.

He rested his forehead against yours then, eyes closed—content, at ease… and so unlike what you had expected from a tyrannical ruler.

This… it had felt like your bodies were made for each other. Perhaps they were.

“I want to remember. I want you to prove to me that you’re not the evil tyrant I imagine you to be,” you said, breaking the silence.

Loki chuckled. “Hmm… ever so demanding, pet.”

“Why are you calling me that?”

“Because it turns you feral, am I not right?”

You bit your lower lip. Yes, damn it, he was right.

“We will find a way to restore your memories, I swear it. You are mine.” You shivered when he spoke your name. “You are the very reason I am not a tyrant. Whatever you see, whatever you believe… Midgard is in good hands—it is your home realm, after all.”

“So I’ll just have to trust your word? The word of a Trickster?”

Loki smirked. He knew. He knew that your heart already did.

"Yes. Now then... shall we carve a pumpkin together, pet?"

A/N: Party hard tonight! 🎃

#loki #loki imagine #loki x you #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson smut #loki odinson #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x you #loki odinson smut #thor #thor imagine #the avengers #the avengers imagine #loki wins au #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #loki series #loki series imagine #loki show #loki show imagine #tom hiddleston

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

⋆ 𝓡𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼: 𝓓𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓑𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓼 ⋆

Please note: This is a repost from my old blog, @sugarcookiesheep!

This was the first story I ever posted on my old blog, and my first series too! It was a series that featured most of the Twisted Wonderland cast as fathers, and what their child/children are like! (With the Reader being referred to as mom!)

I had only completed Riddle and Cater's parts (while posting sneak peaks of others), and I may come back to it someday! Until then, enjoy! ♡

⋆ As a father I believe that Riddle would be strict but fair. He would be patient with his children and control his temper but wouldn’t be afraid to put his foot down. He’d be the type of parent to implement chore wheels and good behavior charts and use parental controls on electronics to make sure his kids keep up with their studies. If they were doing particularly bad in a certain subject or struggled with something, Riddle would be more than happy to tutor them. He would make worksheets to help them practice and would take extra care helping them with homework or assignments, and make sure to go over exactly what they’re struggling with until they understood. If his child’s school had a PTA (Parent Teacher Association) he would be a part of it for sure.

⋆ Riddle’s eldest son would be a little troublemaker, not really following any of the rules Riddle makes. Instead, he would question Riddle’s rules and create his own, making a game out of it. Riddle once tried to follow his son’s rules (in the hopes that it would teach him some obedience), but his son just gave him a look of confusion before stating that the rules had changed, and that Riddle was now breaking the rules by following the old ones. Let’s just say this game is Riddle’s least favorite lol

⋆ While he’s good for his mom, he enjoys riling his father up and always acts innocent afterwards in the hopes of getting away with it (You never really seem to buy it though)

⋆ He has a big sweet tooth (just like his father), constantly trying to sneak cookies or tarts or cakes out of the kitchen. Half the time he doesn’t even try to sneak it, just grabs whatever he’s after and makes a run for it. You’ll be doing some cleaning, trying to tidy up the house, when suddenly here comes your toddler running with fistfuls of cookies while your husband chases after him. Even when you lock the desserts up he still somehow manages to get them, much to Riddle’s dismay.

⋆ In place of gold stars you decided to get scented stickers shaped like desserts for the good behavior chart, as that seemed to encourage your eldest son to behave more

⋆ Whenever he has a nightmare, he always goes to his dad. You’ve walked into the kitchen more than once in the early morning and found Riddle and your son fast asleep at the table, half empty mugs of milk and cookie crumbs around them. It’s a sight that always fills you with warmth.

⋆ When he gets to be a little bit older (around 5 or 6) You and Riddle cave and get him the pet hedgehog he’d been wanting (Riddle hoping it teaches him some responsibility) He is very responsible when it comes to his pet and takes excellent care of him. He considers the hedgehog to be his best friend (and partner in crime), taking him wherever he goes. (The hedgehog’s name is Beef Hedgington, and he’s named after Beef Wellington)

⋆ The boys are around 5-6 years apart age wise, so your eldest son got his pet hedgehog Beef before his little brother was born.

⋆ There are plenty of times where you or Riddle would enter the baby’s room and find that your eldest left his pet in his brother’s crib. When you ask him, he’d simply say that Beef is there to watch over him and protect him if need be. It makes for some cute photos in the family album!

⋆ Riddle’s younger son is quite the contrast to his brother, a shy boy that tries his best to follow the rules and doesn’t want to stand out. He’s content watching quietly in the background as his older brother gets up to his latest shenanigans, though on occasion he can be convinced to join him.

⋆ He prefers to play alone or with his brother, usually keeping to himself while your eldest is running around with the other kids at the park. He gets a bit anxious in social situations, especially when he’s unfamiliar with the person. But if another kid did approach him and wanted to play with him he would hesitate for a second before nodding his head yes, gesturing towards the toys he was playing with. It always makes you and Riddle so happy whenever he makes a new friend at school, his body language giving away how excited he is.

⋆ Much like your husband and eldest son (and you), your younger son also has a big sweet tooth. Unlike your eldest though, he doesn’t try to sneak or take any desserts. Instead he would follow you around as you’re baking, or gaze longingly at whatever sweet he wanted. You would pick up on this and give him one as a treat, or let him lick the spoon while you’re baking (after making him promise not to tell his brother)

⋆ Riddle started a tradition where when it’s someone’s birthday in the family, you would all go to Trey’s bakery and get them their own special cake/dessert. The kid’s always get so excited whenever they get to go see their “Uncle Trey”, especially when it’s one of their birthdays. They always have fun choosing a different cake flavor or dessert every year, watching Trey make and decorate it before serving it to them. You have a special photo album specifically for these occasions, making sure to always include Trey and his family in the pictures.

⋆ One of your favorites in the album is a photo from Riddle’s birthday, his face and shirt a mess of frosting as your two boys had both wanted to feed their father his cake. Trey is in the background laughing while your off to the side trying to wipe some frosting off Riddle’s face, your two boys smiling towards the camera with frosting smudged around their mouths. It’s a photo you love so much you end up framing it and hanging it near the front door so that it’s the last thing Riddle sees when he leaves to go to work. A beautiful reminder of his wonderful and loving family ♡

Originally posted: November 25th, 2023

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

#♡.sheep writes #♡.twst #♡.riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader

[strawberryspence]

happy birthday, @withacapitalp! i hope im not that late! i am so glad to be your friend and i am glad you were born. ily! long islands on me! 🥂🍾💗

-

There’s this damn spring festival in Indianapolis. It’s pretty popular among young-ins and people from small towns come to visit it every year. There are local vendors, activities, mini concerts. It’s where Eddie thrives the most, he has gone every year since he can remember.

His first mistake was mentioning it to Dustin. The second was agreeing to his insistent pleading if he could come with Eddie to Indy.

Because after Eddie finally said yes. The news— unsurprisingly— reaches El, and wherever El goes, Will goes, and of course, wherever Will goes Mike goes. Then Max hears and also wants in and of course, Lucas also wants to go. So now, it’s the whole damn party. Of course, he can’t handle all the kids. So now, all the adult kids are coming too.

And listen, he thinks they’re all great. But he’s been wanting to get out of Hawkins and away from them to just— breathe. Also, that’s a lie. Eddie doesn’t want to get away from them. He specifically wants to get away from Steve fucking Harrington and all the confusing feelings he have for the very straight man.

Of course, that doesn’t work out.

Because now they're stuck in the middle of a crowd. Eddie has never really understood why people said they felt like a sardine in a can, but right now, he fully understands. He should have known it was going to be busy. It was a Saturday and it’s one of the biggest festivals in town.

He will never say it, but Eddie thanks Steve’s very strong maternal instinct. He can worry for himself right now, because he knows the kids are together due to the very strict buddy system Steve instituted. Now they just have to get to the damn corn dog stand, which Steve declared as their meet up place.

“Eddie.” Eddie whips his head to see Steve staring intently at him. Oh yeah, Steve’s his buddy. “We have to get out of here.”

Eddie nods faintly but doesn’t answer. He has to keep his breathing in check. They’re fine, and the kids are fine. There’s a crowd but they're not after the kids. They're not after Eddie. They’re not after him. It's not an angry mob. Not after him for killing Chrissy. Not—

“Eds.” Steve pushes against the people to get to him. His brown eyes track his face before he sighs in worry, “Hold my hand.”

“What?” Eddie croaks out in disbelief.

Steve looks around, before whispering, "Baby, I think you're one step away from a panic attack. It's too fucking crowded."

And before Eddie can say anything else, Steve captures his hand into his. He doesn't intertwine them together because they're still in public and though they're in the city, it's always good to be safe. But Steve still holds Eddie's hand so tightly, like he's afraid that Eddie's going to vanish from his sight.

"Don't let go, okay?" Steve asks, which is ridiculous, and crazy. Because now that Eddie's holding his hand, clasped together like two ends of the same parenthesis, he doesn't think he could ever let go.

Eddie nods, and Steve pulls him in front of him, shielding him with his arms so people won't bump into him. It weirdly feels like a hug. If he has to describe it, he will say it feels exactly like the moment Wayne hugged him after he came out to him. It's safety, warmth, and overwhelming love and protection.

Steve maneuvers around the crowd like a pro. He dodges people without hitting them and takes them out of the fucking crowd in the middle of the market.

Before he knows it, they're out of the crowd and sitting on a bench. His breathing is finally getting better, but Steve still hasn't let go of his hand. Not when he bought Eddie a drink, not when he instructed Eddie to breathe with him, not when the kids came and asked what was wrong, only to be shooed away.

Eddie's not sure why he's so shaken to the core by this certain touch. He's always been the touchy-feely one. He throws an arm on Steve's shoulders, pats his head when Steve does something ridiculously adorable, and nudges him by the ribs when he says something funny. Steve's never initiated touch, Robin says it's because of the "complete lack of love and care from his parents."

But Steve's right here. Squatting in front of him. Holding his hand as he waits for Eddie to calm down. Looking at him like he— loves him. How could Steve ever be the product of lack of love and care, when he seems to have an abundance of it?

"You doing better, Eds?" Steve asks, his eyes are bright against the lights. He's looking at Eddie like Eddie's something to be cared for, to be loved, like he's something precious.

Eddie wants Steve to look at him like this. Selfishly, he wants to have it for the rest of his fucking life.

Eddie blinks at him, and accidentally, intentionally, stupidly, spits out, "I think I am in love with you."

Steve freezes. He blinks at him.

The world behind them slows down. There's a kid winning a prize a few stalls down, and a man bargaining for a vase on the other end. Someone's order is ready at the food stand and someone just won the bingo. There's a band playing and they're fucking playing Whitesnake's Is This Love.

It's one of those simple, but beautiful moments. Those that make you feel like you're nothing but a small particle in this big, vast world. Eddie basks in those moments sometimes.

However, at that moment, Eddie doesn't. If Steve looks at him like that for the rest of his life, Eddie doesn't think he'll ever feel small again.

He lets the world fade into a quiet noise. Nothing else matters. Nothing, but Steve Harrington.

He just stares at Steve. He just stares as Steve's face breaks into the biggest smile he has ever seen and it quite literally feels like watching a sunflower grow right in front of him. It's a smile that overflows, from the way he beams at him, from the way his eyes wrinkle, the way his nose crinkles.

Eddie's never seen Steve smile this big before and its damn beautiful.

"You sure about that?" Steve asks. There's insecurity in it, but also hope.

Eddie's never been this sure about anything else in his life, so he says, "Yes."

Steve softens, "Alright. That's good."

"How is that good?" Eddie whispers.

"Because, I—" Steve turns over their hands on his lap, and finally— finally— intertwines them. And shit, maybe there is a God, because this feels sacred, a love made just for the two of them.

"Because, I think I am also in love with you."

"I wish I can kiss you here," Eddie says, making Steve laugh, and it spills out of his body so beautifully Eddie wants to keep doing it for the rest of his life.

"Slow down, cowboy," Steve giggles, but the way he tightens his hold on Eddie's hand tells the opposite of his statement.

"Steve! Eddie! Look at this!" Dustin screams from the nearby booth, where El just won him a teddy bear.

"Yeah, you have to come. El's not doing anything. It's just pure talent!" Lucas sarcastically shrieks back.

In the background, El's giggling like crazy. Which 100% means she's using her magic. Eddie can't help but smile at the kids. He's glad he bought them with him to have fun.

Steve immediately stands up at that, their hands breaking apart at the motion. "Oh God. I told her not to use her powers." Steve's about to rush to them— maternal instincts and whatnot— before he stops in his tracks and turns to Eddie.

Steve softens, holding out his hand to Eddie. Eddie takes it without hesitation.

"Don't let go?" Steve asks.

Eddie stares at him, before he whispers a vow just for the two of them, "I won't. I promise."

True to his word, he doesn't let go. Not ever.

Eddie has no intention of ever letting Steve go.

#this might actually be the most romantic ficlet i have written #i want what they have #please god ive seen what youve done for others #tw panic attack #just a tiny bit #im emotional #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson fluff #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanons #steddie hc #dae writes #daeheadcanons

[atinylittlepain]

hello bestie im back here again with a joel idea <33

ur smut is so fucking good but im in need of some nice fluff rn because I love the last of us but god that show is hard to watch i get so emotional its hard to keep watching sometimes

but for a fluff idea where the reader, joel, and ellie settle down in jackson and Joel begins to realize that he's happy again and he becomes unsure because he feels guilty about sarah but it ends happily bc its what all of them deserve

my darling, my comrade, thank you for bringing this idea to me. i hope i did it justice <3

gif by @maygrant

Good

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

Stuck between the despair of the past and fear for the future, Joel struggles to accept the goodness he's found in the present.

warnings | 18+ angst, living with grief, lovely sweetness

..........................

“I still can’t believe that. All that time in FEDRA school and they never taught you how to swim?” Ellie huffs at that, stomping a little further ahead of Joel as she mutters.

“It’s not like we had a fucking pool to do laps in, old man. Give me a break.” He breathes out a laugh, glancing away from the kid and toward his woman as she falls into step beside him.

“No time like the present, kid. Gonna have you swimming like a pro by the end of the day.” He can’t help but smile at her words, and in anticipation of the spectacle that watching her teach Ellie how to swim is going to be. They had lucked out, all three of them having this perfect summer day off from class and shifts in town, and had packed up their day in rucksacks to hike out to the nearby lake with the promise that Ellie would finally learn how to swim.

Life has been– he won’t think the word good, not wanting to jinx anything– but maybe normal? They’ve been living in Jackson for a few months now, and he never thought he’d get used to things like running water and home cooked food ever again, but it seems like he has. Ellie goes to classes while they pick up shifts wherever they’re needed, and at the end of the day, they all come… home. He supposes it is home now, and that makes him nervous as hell. He knows better than most that the minute you get used to something in this world, it tends to disappear on you, and maybe that’s what has been making him hold his woman -  the same woman he crawled across the country with - a little closer when they go to sleep each night in their nice, comfortable bed. 

His thoughts have been swirling between these fears for the future, and a deep despair for the past. If he stays surface level, he usually concludes that he doesn’t deserve any of this, any of the smiles, the easing laughs with Ellie, the sweet press of his woman’s palm along his shoulders letting him know she’s still there. Not after everything he did to get by before. But if he needles past the last twenty years, he hits something that stings even more when he remembers that any happiness he gets, Sarah will always be gone. 

He’s starting to be pulled under by his mind as they continue hiking, but she keeps him buoyed with the way she tangles her fingers with his, offering him a smile as they near the lake. They all shrug off their packs in the grass, she and Ellie already toeing off their shoes. When he sits down with a groan, leaning back on his hands, she gives him a questioning look.

“You’re not coming in?” He squints up at her, the mid-day sun a halo around her head.

“Someone oughta keep lookout. You two go on.” Her mouth twists up, but she drops it with a shrug, pulling off her t-shirt to reveal the faded swimsuit she had managed to trade for along with Ellie’s. The kid is standing with her hands on her hips, looking out at the lake like she’s surveying a new planet. She sidles up alongside Ellie, slinging her arm over the girl’s shoulder and murmuring something about “proving the old man wrong” that makes her laugh, the worry scrunching up her face quick to relieve itself. Joel doesn’t even have time to be annoyed at what she called him, times like these making him quick to thaw, when the kid actually gets to be a kid. 

As she is in most things, Ellie is a quick learner, after some initial trepidation, and soon Joel’s watching the two of them dip and swerve through the water, the picture of grace in the clear summer heat. He smiles to himself, remembering how Sarah learned how to swim. Tommy bribed her into the rec center pool with the promise of a strawberry milkshake, and by the end of the day, Joel had to bribe her out of the pool with the promise of fries to go with said milkshake. The pain is quick to settle in at the memory. He finds himself bringing a palm to his chest, trying to rub out the ache even though he knows it won’t ever go away.

His attention is pulled away by Ellie hauling herself out of the lake, bending over and shaking her dripping hair out before plopping down next to him to rummage through her pack. He glances down at his jeans, now darkened by spots of water from her aggressive shake-off, before turning and quirking his brow at her. Already scarfing down her sandwich, she shrugs, mumbling through a mouthful.

“What? I’m fucking starving, man.” He shakes his head, trying to look annoyed, but failing miserably with the smile he can’t fight off.

“Language, kid. And you’re gonna have to wait a while after eating that if you wanna get back in.” Her brow furrows at that.

“Why?” 

“Because– because you– look, that’s just the rule, ok? S’what they always said– gotta wait a while after you eat if you wanna swim.” 

“Who’s they?” That makes him huff.

“I don’t know, alright? Christ, do whatever you want.” He knows it’s too harsh, but he’s having a hard time staying in the present when the past is hanging so heavy over him. He sighs, resting his arms over his knees and leaning forward, his gaze unfocusing into the grass.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?” He keeps his gaze hung low, just tilting his head slightly toward Ellie to let her know he is listening.

“Are you ok?” The question catches him entirely off guard, his head whipping around to look at her, his eyes squinted. 

“I’m fine.” Ellie mirrors his own expression, eyes squinting, mouth in a close line as she nods.

“You deserve to be ok, y’know? I believe that.” She just keeps surprising him, and he coughs hard, trying to clear the tightness in his throat before he responds.

“I know, kid. Thank you– I’ll be ok.” She nods again, seeming to accept his answer as she looks back out at the lake. His eyes follow, seeing his woman, floating on her back with a serene look on her face, her arms lightly swaying in the water. He knows Ellie had slipped and called her mom the other day. Maybe it wasn’t a slip at all. 

“Well, if I can’t get back in right now, one of us might as well. Go on, old man. I’ll keep lookout.” He grumbles at the nickname that both of them seem to have settled on for him, but the heat has gotten to him just enough that he listens to her, getting up and shrugging out of his unlaced boots, his t-shirt and jeans quick to follow.

“Jesus, my eyes!” He huffs as Ellie cackles to herself, but is a little too focused on the look his woman is giving him from the middle of the lake to pay much mind to her jabs. 

The water is cool, a relief to every aching joint in his body as he wades in. He can’t remember the last time he did something like this. She meets him in the middle of the lake, an easy smile on her lips as she winds her arms around the back of his neck.

“Hey, handsome.” Even after all this time, he’s still prone to blushing when she talks like that, all syrup and sweetness. He scoffs to hide the creeping heat, his one hand coming to skate up and down her back. She tilts her head, seeming to search his face as she murmurs lowly.

“You’ve been scowling all day. Gonna tell me what’s going on?” She can read him like a book, always could, and it drives him insane most of the time.

“M’fine.” By the look on her face, he knows she isn’t going to accept that answer. He sighs.

“I just– this doesn’t feel real. Like– it’s too good to be true, don’t you think?” Her brow furrows at his words.

“I think it’s good for sure. But I can understand what you mean– waiting for the other shoe to drop, right?” He nods, both of them swaying lightly in the ebb of the water.

“It’s that– but I can’t stop thinking about– about–” His words fizzle out in his throat as he catches sight of something, a flickering of movement hovering just above the water. 

Wings. The smallest splotches of colors blinking like eyes. A butterfly. The only thing that runs through his mind is a name. Her name. His Sarah.

Suddenly, a breathy laugh is rolling out of him.

“What? What is it? Is this– are you having a stroke?” The ridiculousness of the genuine worry across her face just makes him laugh more, his hands finding purchase on her waist and pulling her closer. 

“Joel, this isn’t funny. What’s–” He cuts her off with a smacking kiss, her face stunned when he pulls away.

“I’m fine, darlin. I’m gonna be fine.” He glances one more time at the butterfly, alighted on the surface of the lake for a second before it flutters away. But he knows she hasn’t really left him. Wherever he goes, he knows he has her with him.

He kisses his woman again, this time to the much-vocalized chagrin of Ellie on the water’s edge.

“Gross! You guys are scarring me for life here!” She pulls away from him with a laugh, hollering at Ellie to mind her own business before fixing her attention back on him with a grin.

“Good?” He nods.

“Good.”

#joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

heyy! if it wouldnt be to much trouble… how do you think the gang hugs people?

A/N: Sure can, Nonny! Hope you don’t mind the format, or how long it took to come out!

- Darry, broad-shouldered as he is, gives the biggest hugs. Wrapping you up in him, enveloping you in his chest and holding you nice and tight. He’s warm, he’s strong, he holds you close when he hugs you. When it’s just the two of you, he’s a lot more forward with his desire to be close to you. He’ll wrap his arms around your waist, swaying and spinning you around, pressing his forehead to yours. When the boys are there, he’s a little more withdrawn, but he’ll pull you in for the sweetest side hugs, paired with kisses to your temple and head.

- And for Sodapop? He’s good for squeezing you, hugging you so tightly that you’re sure you’re not getting enough oxygen. Fret not, however, he’s pressing so many kisses to every part of your face, I doubt you’ll mind not having enough air. He’ll hug you whenever and wherever, no matter who’s around and watching you. Sodapop may not be as strong as his big brother, but I fully believe he possesses the ability to pick you up in a hug and spin you around, grinning that movie-star smile of his the whole time.

- As the youngest of the Curtis brothers, I definitely believe Ponyboy is not the biggest hugger, but makes an effort with you. He likes to throw his arm around your shoulders sometimes, wrap his arms around your shoulders from behind and just kind of stand with you. Sometimes he’ll rest his head against yours, sometimes he lets his chin fall on your shoulder. His hugs don’t happen often, but they’re long and lingering when they do, accompanied by a shy kiss to your cheek when you pull away.

- He’s not the biggest on hugs, Dally thinks prolonged displays of mushy affection makes him look weak, but he’s a big sucker for having his arms around you. Your waist, your shoulders, Dally likes having you in his arms. When you go out, he’ll keep you tucked under his arm, pleased as pie to have you next to him. When you’re upset and he hugs you oh-so tight, he’ll cradle the back of your head, lips pressed to your hair. He loves it when you wind your arms around his waist, under the hem of his jacket, he’ll hug you even tighter when you do so.

- Johnny Cade? That boy would do anything to hug you, he loves being in your arms, loves when he can hold you. He doesn’t hug often, but his hugs are magic. Gentle and warm, Johnny hugs you tight and he’ll hug you as long as you let him. Might take Johnny some time to come around to hugs, but once he gets used to hugging you, he won’t ever want to stop. He would just sort of lift his arms and give you a little half-smile, stepping closer to you while he waits for you to come over to him so he can hug you.

- Hugs are almost as good as kisses in Steve’s mind. He’s a sucker for affection, whatever way you wanna give it to him. He likes to slowly wind his arms around your waist, peppering kisses over the side of your face as a hello. Nuzzling at your nose, he lets some of his weight rest on you when he wraps you in a hug. He’s comfortable with you, happy with you. Steve feels safe when he’s with you. He’s happy and more than content to lean on you, hugging you close. Also, can’t believe I almost forgot it, but when Steve hugs you, sometimes he lifts you up and spins you around, laughing and smiling. He loves you.

- Hugs with Two-Bit can sometimes turn into more, kisses pressed slowly across your shoulders and head, hands wandering as far as you’ll let him. Don’t blame him, that’s just the way he is, and you’ve gotta be okay with that if your together. He can be romantic though, Two will hug you and leave his arm around your shoulders when you pull away. Like Soda and Steve, Two-Bit thrives under attention from you and would do anything to get your eyes on him. That may mean making a scene until you finally have enough and try to stop him, but hey, now that’s he’s got you right in front of him, how about a hug?

- Tim isn’t the biggest hugger. Soft affections, gentle touches, he’s not overly familiar with that sort of thing and is a little hesitant when it’s happening. But he doesn’t mind wrapping an arm around you, especially when you’re out on the town. He’s gotta show that you’re his, right? What’s a better way to do that than keep his arms tight around you, keeping you close to his chest? He likes hugging you though, likes feeling you close to him. Hugging is just more of an at home thing, it’s not for the streets. Can’t ruin that bad boy image, y’know? No matter how much he loves you, hugging is kept to a minimum when you’re out, but he makes up for it when you’re alone.

- More willing than his older brother, I have a feeling Curly wouldn’t mind getting hugs from you. I headcanon him to be sort of off-and-on person when it comes to PDA. If he’s with his boys, the rest of his greaser buds, he may be a little less likely to pull you in for a lingering hug, but when you stay the night at his house, Curly likes to drape himself over you from behind. He’s warm, not space heater-warm, but warm enough that you would probably be nice and warm when he wraps his arms around you. Curls won’t let go either. Once he’s got you, he’s got you. That’s it.

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders x reader #dillo’s writing #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #johnny cade #two bit mathews #steve randle #tim shepard #curly shepard #darry curtis x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #two bit mathews x reader #steve randle x reader #tim shepard x reader #curly shepard x reader