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futterurl · 5 months

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Owe It To You

Josh Futturman x fem!reader

WARNINGS: smut (mdni!), oral(f!recieving), fingering, clit play, female anatomy on reader

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you were tired, to say the least.

going back in time, checking on the future to the same, demented outcome, really took a toll on you guys. it always seemed as if every effort and alternative path taken for the future didn’t matter.

you were lost in thought as tiger and wolf fought with each other, it was the same empty argument: wolf didn’t listen, tiger wanted control. it was draining to hear.

you all were in Joosh’s super house, taking a peek at how fucked up you all made this future. you left the living room in frustration, heading up to Joosh’s room.

you crashed onto the bed, covering your face with a pillow, letting out a low groan. you were tired of all the fighting, all the time travel, everything. you needed a break.

you heard a knock on the door, followed by a calming voice asking, “hey, you okay?”

you lifted the pillow from your face, seeing josh, peaking the door open, worry etched on his eyebrows. he knew how much of a toll this was starting to take on you, you guys were best friends, after all.

“yeah, just…tired, is all.” you half mumbled into the pillow, just loud enough so he could barely hear.

he leaned off the door and sat on the bed that you lay on. he scratched your head.

“something’s telling me there’s more to it than that.” he inquired.

“i don’t know…i guess i’m just tired of all this shit.” you began. “we try so hard to perfect the future, but are met with the same outcome. i’ve been trying to think left and right of new ideas…nothing’s working.”

he understood that this was only the tip of the iceberg, regarding your feelings for all this. when you got roped up into this mess, you left more behind than him. you left behind an internship you had busted your ass off for, and two other jobs, which you probably got fired from, due to your absence.

you had two different jobs just to meet ends meet, in your shitty apartment. sure, they were crappy, dead-end jobs, but they helped you get ends meet. you were somehow able to balance those along with your internship which you fought so hard to get.

all down the drain.

in a way, it was relieving, not having to juggle all of this, living every day as a drained, sleep deprived zombie.

unfortunately, this scenario was just like everything else in your life: there was no way out.

“i know, i know…i really am sorry you got dragged into this. it’s all my fault.” josh sighed.

it had just been a fun night of you guys playing video games, finally beating this one you guys had been playing for…forever. once you guys were just hanging out and talking about it, in a flash of light, wolf and tiger had appeared, needing the people who beat the game’s help. immediately. you both were there, so they needed the both of you.

“it’s not your fault, josh…we did it together, we gotta get through this together.” it really wasn’t his fault. you didn’t want him to think that.

“no, it is. i’m constantly getting you roped into all the shit that happens in my life, and you’ve been working your ass off to fix this timeline. you deserve better.” josh stroked your hair.

you sat up. “it’s okay, josh. there’s nobody i’d rather fix the timeline with.”

“still, it’s not fair. all of this isn’t fair. let me…let me make it up to you.” he seemed a bit nervous and started hesitating on his words.

you started to feel a little hot. “how would you go about ‘making it up to me’, josh?”

you did not expect what he did next.

josh was this awkward gamer nerd who had never felt the touch of a woman before. he’d always been so out of place and nervous talking to anyone, which made it so weird to hear what he said next.

“let…let me make you feel good.” his hand laying on the bed crept closer to your thigh, covered by your pants.

you started to get a little nervous yet excited. you had never seen him be this bold before.

“you’ve been so stressed by everything in life, and i mean everything. a-and you never have anyone help you out with anything. i want to help you…feel good, like stress relief.” his pinkie played with the fabric of your pants.

you couldn’t believe this was real right now. josh, the one you had known for years, barely having the balls to talk to girls besides you, doing this. your mine was racing.

he noticed how quiet you were being. “o-of course you don’t have to let me do it if you don’t want to! it was just an idea, it was stupid, i don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anythi-”

he was cut off by you kissing him, hand holding his jawline. he melted into the kiss.

as you pulled away, you smiled. “i…i think i do want this. please, josh. make me feel good.”

“okay…okay..” he started to trail off with his words as his thumb ran back and forth on your cheek. “before i do this, i just wanna let you know that if you’re uncomfortable, please tell me, and we’ll be done. won’t have to speak of it ever again. promise.”

he was very sweet. sure, he was awkward, but he put your comfort and pleasure first. it made you feel happy and safe.

he went back to softly kissing you as his hand went slightly under your shirt and rubbed your waist, just above your pants. soft, delicate touches.

as he unbuttoned your pants, he tapped your hips twice, signaling for you to lift them up. as you did, he tugged your pants down at an agonizingly slow pace. he was such a fucking tease.

his eyes became infatuated with your lace underwear you were wearing. the way it clung to your hips was driving him mad. he hoped you couldn’t tell how crazy you were making him. he toyed with the fabric as you smiled.

“as much as i love these,” he snapped them on your hips. “i’m gonna have to take them off. is that okay with you?”

you felt so safe, knowing how tender he was being. he didn’t want to fuck this up. you lifted your hips. “that’s more than okay with me, josh.” you played with a handful of his hair.

he dragged your panties down your legs, exposing your glistening cunt to him. he audibly gasped, he couldn’t believe he was doing this to you. sure, he always thought you were sweet, and even fantasized about doing things like this to you, but he didn’t think it’d ever happen.

he was lost in thought, staring at your cunt. you started to get insecure, closing your legs. “josh, stop staring.” you pleaded.

he shook his head. “sorry, you’re just…so beautiful. i can’t believe it.” he thumbed little circles on your inner thigh.

“can i…feel you? down there, i mean?” he asked. god, he was so awkward it was funny.

you nodded your head. “yeah. please.”

his fingers started inching closer and closer to where you needed them most. suddenly, he ran one through your slit, barely touching your clit. you shuddered. that felt good.

“fuck…you’re so wet. you’re so hot.” he ran his finger slowly around your clit, seeing if he’d get any reactions from you. you silently gasped.

“that..that felt really good. please keep doing that.” you felt so good right now. no guy had ever focused on making you feel good before. this was new. you liked it.

“god, please moan for me. love the little noises y’make.” josh was rubbing your clit a bit faster, making you let out a quiet moan.

“f..fuck. feels good. really good.” feeling that little area constantly stimulated was the ticket. you hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

“can i…can i put a finger in?” he asked, slowing down his aggression on your clit.

you furiously nodded your head, your pussy clamping down on nothing. wanting to be filled. by him.

“please, please josh.” you said, getting lost in the pleasure. you let out a grunt as he slowly inserted a finger inside you.

“fuck, it’s only one finger but you’re so tight, fuck.” he started to ramble as he moved his finger in your wetness. you squirmed a bit. it felt so good, his thick finger getting lost in you.

“m’ gonna put another one im, ‘kay?” he asked, prodding another finger to your tight hole. you nodded, to which he slowly put it in. you groaned at the tight stretch.

“you good?” he asked. he wanted this to be good for you. the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“yeah, was just..new, was all. please keep going. feels good.” you went on.

he did just that. he curled his fingers inside you, pumping them at a quick pace. that, with stimulation he was putting from his thumb to your clit, was making you moan left and right. you felt something stirring inside you.

“god, you’re so cute like this…should’ve done this sooner.” he gushed, turning you on even more.

“fuck, m’close.” you panted.

as soon as the feeling met you, it left as he pulled his fingers out of you.

you looked up at him, confused. “why’d you do that?” you asked.

he started to sink down. “as much as i was getting into that, i wanna see you cum on my tongue.” he kissed your thighs.

you felt the wetness pool inside you even more once he said that. god, you couldn’t get that image out of your head now.

“please, fuck, josh. make me cum on your tongue.” you pleaded as he slowly trailed to your inner thighs, giving them a lot of attention. you had taken him for the thigh guy, but not to this extent.

“since you asked so nicely…” he lowered his head, taking a long lick to your cunt, you releasing a pornographic moan.

“fuck…feels s’good josh…oh my god.” you had never felt this type of pleasure anywhere, and here he was, giving it to you like his life depended on it.

he gave a light kiss to your clit before lightly tracing his tongue over it, testing the waters. once he heard you becoming a moaning mess, he licked it with more vigor, wanting to pull these moans out of you.

the stimulation felt like no other, him focusing on making out with your clit and entrance. he pulled your thighs closer to his face as he licked at more of your slick.

you pulled at his hair, letting out breathy moans. he groaned at this. hard. right into your cunt, which felt so fucking good. you could feel your back arch off the bed as he lapped into your juices, him tonguing your clit. your nails scratched at his scalp as that familiar pit in your stomach came back.

“josh…so close…holy shit.” you moaned as his tongue swirled around you.

“please, come on my face. please.” he pleaded. the vibrations his voice sent to your core sending you even closer. “wanna make you feel better than you ever have. come on my tongue.”

one final stroke of his tongue lead you to your peak, your thighs tightening around his face. you let out incoherent babbles as you came on him. he continued to lick you as you rode out your high.

once you calmed down, you looked down at him, catching your breath. he had slick all over his face and wore a dopey smile. “are you okay?” he asked.

“never better.” you replied. “that felt so fucking good josh. thank you. so much.” you caressed his cheek.

“i hope it’s not too weird to tell you i enjoyed that.” he had a slight tint of red on his cheeks.

“oh! not at all. it was amazing. i can’t thank you enough.” you smiled, laying onto the pillow.

“no, i can’t thank you enough. you always stay by my side and always fix my messes. this is the least that i could do.” he said as he handed you a glass of water that was sitting on the nightstand, which you took.

“i’ll always be here for you, if you ever wanna do shit like this again, or even something soothing like a massage.” he added.

you put the glass of water down, hugging him. “you’re so sweet, josh. i appreciate it so much. you’re such a good person, i really hope you know that.”

“anything else you need?” he asked.

“take a nap with me for awhile?” you asked. you had gotten very sleepy.

“of course.” he get under the covers, cuddling you and stroking your hair. “i’ll do anything for you, i hope you know that.”

you nuzzled into his chest, getting comfortable. “you too, joshy.” you mumbled as you started to fall into a deep sleep.

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a/n: hi guys first(ish) post. hope u enjoyed :p pls send requests as well! i’m so bad at ideas

#josh futturman smut #josh futturman #josh futturman x reader #future man #future man smut

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tadpolejourney · 13 days

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Role Reversal

Summary: NSFW, 18+! Gale has enjoyed being the dominant one when you role play in the bedroom, but wants to try out reversing the roles for a change. Gale x F!Reader. 3,660 words because I couldn't stop.

Genre: Smut, smut, and more smut. Light bondage with F dom and M sub, masturbation, teasing, cunnilingus, PIV sex.

A/N: This is the first time I've ever written a smut fic. Positive or constructive feedback is very appreciated! :)

After watching the sunset together over Deepwater Harbor, Gale suggests the two of you enjoy a nightcap in your bedroom. He balances a tray with food and glasses of wine on one hand and opens the door for you with the other.

“There is something I have wanted to try with you in the bedroom for some time, and I am quite eager to hear what you think of my idea,” Gale says to you as he sets the tray down on the table between your reading chairs.

“Oh?” you ask, grabbing a small slice of cheese from the tray and placing it on a cracker. “You know I tend to love your ideas, what do you have in mind?”

He watches affectionately as you enjoy the food with a slight smile on your face. “Well,” he begins, “I have rather enjoyed some of the role play we have done in the bedroom lately, haven't you?”

“Oh yeah,” you say, nodding emphatically.

“I was thinking we try reversing the roles, and I be the submissive one this time.” A playful look crosses his face as he reviews your reaction.

Your heart pounds with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “I like the idea, but I'm not sure how well I will perform. You know I am so weak for you, Gale.”

He chuckles and smiles at you warmly. “You should not doubt your acting abilities! I know I don't. If you find you're not enjoying it and you want to stop at any time, please say so.”

“We should probably just use the same rules and the same safe word we do with me. Do you remember the safe word?”

“Yes, it's mindflayer. The least sexy word we could think of.”

“Okay, let me change into something more suitable for the occasion, and we can get started.” You walk out of the bedroom, closing the door behind you. You make your way towards a hallway closet, searching for clothing with a very specific look in mind.

From a small jar on a shelf inside the closet, you pull out a pair of hair pins and pin all of your hair up in a tight bun on the back of your head. You find a truly naughty sort of outfit in your trunk, one Gale has yet to see you wear. It's a strapless number with strips of black leather that cross over the breasts and around the back, leaving your midriff and arms exposed. Another pair of straps cross along the sides of each hip, leaving you totally exposed below the waist. You don the absolute skimpiest underwear you own, a silk black G-string. To complete the look, you pull on a pair of thigh-high black leather boots with heels high enough to make you Gale's height, if not a bit taller.

At the sight of you entering the room in this outfit, Gale's jaw involuntary slackens, his mouth going dry in an instant. You don't entertain his reaction, though mentally you relish it. You're already in character, a hardened and serious look on your face.

“Strip,” you command, pointing at him.

He dutifully complies, removing every article of clothing and leaving them in a pile at his feet. He stands naked before you, the tip of his hard member already glistening with pre-cum.

You point to a spot on the floor in front of your reading chair. “Get on all fours, here.” Gale follows your order in silent obedience. You walk around him to sit in the chair. Using him as a footstool, you prop both of your feet up on his back as you settle in and open the book on the table beside you. Unfortunately it happens to be one of Gale's wizard tomes, the margin details in tiny handwriting severely straining to the eyes, the content both overwhelming and impossible to comprehend as a comparatively novice user of magic. 'Unlettered,' as he once called you.

He notices what book you are attempting to read, and can't seem to help himself. From his position, he comments, “Perhaps you should find a book more suited to your tastes. I believe you will enjoy literally any other book in existence more than that one.”

“Not only are you speaking out of turn, you deign to tell me what I should read?” you raise your voice slightly to bring authority to your words. “You just bought yourself 15 minutes on the hook.” You remove your feet from his back and stand up. “Get up,” you tell him sternly. He obeys without another word, and standing before you he realizes your eyes are parallel for once thanks to those heels. He backs up towards the iron hook bolted to the ceiling, and raises his arms above his head. Using mage hand, you bind his hands with rope and settle the strands between his hands into the hook as you settle back into the chair.

You fully intend to make him watch you 'read' this dense wizard text for 15 minutes, knowing how much it will both pain and tease him to see you do so. Even if this were a book you could enjoy, you're not really able to concentrate at all. By this point there is too much blood flowing away from your brain and pooling between your legs.

He notices this and smirks at you, remarking, “It seems you've been staring at that page for quite a while. Perhaps I could read it to you.”

You look up from the book to glare at him. “Your insolence is what distracts me. Once I punish you, I will be able to read in peace.”

“Punish me if you must, my queen.”

“I don't want to hear another word from you.” You use mage hand to pick up his shirt from the floor and gag him with it, tying the sleeves around the back of his head.

Getting up from your chair, you move to pull a peacock feather from a decorative vase by the door. Keeping it at arm's length, you leisurely trail the feather up in a straight line from his navel to his chin. You see goosebumps forming on his skin in the wake of the feather as you circle it back down his neck, along his side, and around the base of his cock. You relish teasing him with these feather-light touches, watching him squirm and shiver as you move around the tops of his thighs, circle around to his lower back, and trace up the back of his neck. You move closer to him now, heightening the tease by bringing your body close to his while still tracing the contours of his body with the feather. You let your breath fall on his neck as he sighs at the pleasure of it. You bring your face closer to his in order to move your lips towards his. Nearly close enough to kiss, but not quite. He pants with desire, but remains still.

You take a step back, dragging the feather along his skin lazily once more before letting it drop to the floor. “You took that punishment very well. So well, in fact, that perhaps you've earned a small reward.”

His eyes widen and his expression grows eager as you move your body close to him again, merely a hair's breadth away. He does not dare press into you or pull away, instead remaining perfectly motionless, lest you withdraw your offer.

“Should I... let you touch me?” you ask in a breathy voice, allowing your strong exhalations to be felt on his skin. “Should I... kiss you? Or... perhaps...” You take your time and remove your clothing piece by piece. Then you take several steps backward, allowing him to fully admire your naked form.

“Yes, perhaps this is your reward.”

He is visibly salivating through the shirt that's gagging him, his eyes moving slowly as though using them to trace every inch of your nude body.

You lie back on the bed and prop yourself up on your elbows, still in full view of him. You watch his face intently as you open your legs and allow him to see all of you, so wet you've been dripping out onto your inner thighs. You settle back into the bed and begin to pleasure yourself as though Gale weren't in the room at all, though of course he is the one on your mind. Making sure to put on a good show for your audience, you use both hands to touch yourself in all the right ways. In no time at all you have yourself moaning and writhing with pleasure. You dare not even whisper his name aloud as you do so, though you have to resist crying it out as you reach your climax.

When you finish, you saunter confidently over to him and bring your fingers, wet with your arousal, to his nose, allowing him to take in your scent. He closes his eyes as he breathes you in.

“Remember how generous I have been to you. Obey me, and your rewards will multiply.” You use mage hand once again to remove the gag from his mouth. Immediately afterwards you insert your slick fingers into his mouth. He greedily licks every bit of your wetness, taking in a deep breath through his nose and moaning on his exhale.

You move back to your reading chair and sit, opening the book once more.

“I'm hungry,” you tell Gale as you use mage hand to untie his binds and unhook him from the ceiling without looking up from the tome. “Feed me while I read.”

He walks over to you and picks up the silver tray of charcuterie on the end table beside you. He bends over to place a slice of blood orange in front of your mouth. You look up at him and raise your eyebrows in contempt.

“You dare stand over me?”

“Apologies, your grace,” he says quickly as he gets down on his knees. He tries once again to bring the orange slice to your mouth, and you take it with your fingers instead, savoring it in your mouth slowly.

You allow him to bring the next bite of food to your mouth. He silently and diligently feeds you each of the types of foods from the tray while you attempt to focus your attention on the book. Once again, you are obviously unable to do so. As your arousal continues to grow, you begin shifting uncomfortably in your chair.

“May I speak?” Gale asks.

“You do not speak unless spoken to, and as I recall I did not speak to you,” you tell him firmly. “That's 5 minutes on the hook for you.”

Without a word, he stands up and sets the tray down, allowing your mage hand to bind his hands once more. He places them above his head and back on the hook.

“If you can manage 5 minutes of complete silence without me having to gag you or use a spell, you may please me enough that I will reward you.”

You set the hourglass, ensuring he can see it just as well as you can. Instead of pretending to read that awful book, you decide to really tease him, stretching every muscle of your fit body in the most gratuitous ways. You bend over in front of him to stretch your hands all the way to the floor. You stretch each leg vertically against a nearby wall, then get down on the floor in a full split, allowing him to view every inch of you as you do so.

As the final grains of sand run out of the hourglass, you walk over to Gale and bring your body close to him, pressing your skin and your heat against his. He shudders at the feeling. You kiss him passionately and lustfully while your bodies press together. You feel his tongue enter your mouth and as it does so he spasms against you, groaning and releasing a stream of hot ejaculate onto you.

“Do you have any idea how many rules you just violated?” Your voice comes out strong and firm, though you're not sure how because the way he just came all over you was such a turn-on.

“I lost control of myself, forgive me my queen. You are just so--”

You cut him off, using mage hand to bring the shirt used to gag him before up threateningly towards his mouth. “Do not make me gag you again. Now answer my question. How many rules did you violate?”

“Two, I believe.”

“And what were the rules you violated?”

“I came without permission, and I put my tongue in your mouth without permission.”

“That's 5 minutes on the hook for each infraction. You just bought yourself 10 more minutes up there. And here I was going to let you down so you could touch me... Never mind. You will remain here alone in total silence while I wash your spunk off my gorgeous skin.”

As you back away, you notice he is already hard again. After you've fully turned away from him to leave the room you allow a smirk to cross your face.

You quickly rinse off in the bath, cleaning up your own mess between your legs as well. Instead of re-entering the room completely naked, you decide to wear a sheer white robe. You stand outside the bedroom door and wait, knowing the sight of him naked and hard will compromise your performance if you're left in there with him for too long.

Hoping your sense of timing is good after several minutes, you decide to reenter the room. He can't help but smile at the sight of you, as you struggle to maintain your composure for the sake of your role at the sight of him. His skin shines with sweat, every taut muscle of his body visible in the warm light of the room.

“Your obedience pleases me, Gale.” You give him a satisfied smile as your mage hand unbinds him once again. “I want you to please me further. Do you think you can manage that?”

“I do believe so,” he replies.

“I will leave your hands unbound for now, but you know you mustn't touch me without permission. Understood?”

“I understand.”

“I am going to lie down on the edge of the bed, and I want you to get on your knees between my legs and use your mouth to pleasure me. Is that something you are capable of?”

“Oh yes,” he replies breathlessly.

You assume the position on the bed and he follows, his eyes hungry as they track up and down your body. You can tell he is aching to feel every bit of your skin with his hands. He moistens his lips as he sinks to his knees between your legs.

“You may begin,” you say to him.

True to your demands, he begins working you over expertly with only his mouth, keeping his hands behind his back. He starts with slow, deliberate movements of his tongue, probing your sensitive areas and savoring your wetness with each stroke. You let out soft sighs and moans, letting him know just how well he is pleasing you. He begins moving his tongue more deliberately along the most pleasurable areas of your clitoris, bringing you closer and closer to your peak. You know you really shouldn't touch him at this point in your performance, but as you near orgasm you can't resist. You take either side of his head in your hands and begin running your fingers through his hair. He moans into you at the unexpected pleasure of your touch, and the heat and vibration of his mouth send you over the edge. You feel yourself twitch and pulse against his mouth as he slows his pace to calm you down. He pulls his head back and stares at you with such lust it nearly makes you break character again.

You give him a sensual smile. “I am quite pleased with your performance, Gale. Clean up your face and come lie down on the bed with me.”

You're not sure you've ever seen Gale move so quickly as he stands up and crosses the room. He grabs a towel from a drawer and wipes down his face as he moves towards you, tossing it aside carelessly as he climbs into bed. He lies down beside you, careful to not brush against any part of you while being as close to you as possible.

You turn on your side to face him, tracing your fingers along the small amount of bed space between your bodies. “I want you to do something else for me now, would you like to hear what it is?”

“Please,” he responds, his breath quickening.

“I want to feel your hot cum inside of me.”

Gale's eyes open wider in a brief moment of surprise before narrowing as he smiles cunningly at you, knowing surely you won't make things that easy for him.

“But,” you continue, “You have a limited time to do so, you cannot allow me to come before you, and you must produce an amount sufficient enough to satisfy me. Can you fulfill these conditions?”

“Yes, I will give you your desire.”

Without another word, you straddle him and push him inside of you. Your breath hitches as he twitches and moans at the feeling of you. You place both hands on either side of his body, and he places his behind his head. Knowing him, he does this so he's not tempted to touch you. The last thing he wants is for this to be over because he violated your rules. His eyelids flutter and his eyes roll back in his head as he thrusts up to meet the rolling of your hips. You find a rhythm that suits you well, and you can tell you won't last very long at all. As can Gale, his eyes now open and fixed on you, watching your pleasure build as you ride him. He allows his mind to wander to having the privilege of touching you, kissing you again, or perhaps you even touching him, and it's enough to bring him to climax before you do. You feel a gush of hot liquid pouring into you as his hips buck into yours. He spends every drop inside of you, hoping for your satisfaction.

“Mm,” you hum sweetly, still straddling him. “I believe that was sufficient.” You look down at him and smile benevolently. “You can touch me now.”

Wordlessly, he pulls your robe off your shoulders in one lithe movement. He grabs the pins in your hair in each hand and pulls, letting your hair fall down as he sets them aside. He takes a moment to admire your beauty in the soft light before gripping your hips in his hands and sitting up. He pulls your body close as he caresses your back. You feel him grow hard inside of you. He moves one hand up to tenderly stroke your neck as the other moves downwards to squeeze your buttocks. He explores all of you with his hands in such a firm yet tender way you start to moan and grind your hips into him before you realize what you're doing.

He presses his face to your neck, and you can feel him smiling as he does so. He knows were the roles reversed you would be begging him to kiss your body, to put that practiced tongue of his to use once again. He takes one of your breasts in each hand and begins moving his thumb across your nipples with slow, deliberate circles.

You lie on your back and tell him, “You can kiss my body now.”

Gale takes a deep breath and begins at the base of your jaw, tracing your jawline with his lips. He begins to slowly pump inside of you as he moves down your neck, changing sensations by alternating licking, kissing, nibbling, and sucking. Shuddering and moaning with the pleasure of it, you bring your hands up to stroke the back of his neck. He pauses, arching his back and moaning at the sensation of your touch before resuming the slow thrusting of his hips. He takes your hands and kisses them, trailing kisses up one of your wrists and arms before settling back at your neck. You run your hands up and down his back, squeezing to let him know when he finds that blissful spot inside of you. You can feel that he is growing increasingly desperate to kiss your lips, as his kisses move from your neck to your face. At the same time, he quickens his pace, angling his hips and grabbing yours for more powerful thrusts into you. As you feel yourself getting closer, you can't resist anymore. You kiss him so hard you nearly bloody the inside of your lip from your teeth smashing into them, and he meets your passion with his, his tongue gliding over and under and past yours to enter your mouth. The delayed gratification of such a kiss sends you both over the edge. He thrusts sloppily into you, groaning your name into your neck as he finishes inside you, you arching your back in climax as you scream his name.

For several moments, you both pant and sigh, unable to speak.

Gale breaks the silence after a minute. “That was, single-handedly, the most erotic experience of my life. Your performance was truly phenomenal. We must do that again. Assuming you enjoyed it too, of course. Which I do assume so.” He gives you a sly smile.

#gale x reader #gale x tav #gale #baldur's gate oc #bg3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep

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collecting-stories · 2 years

Note

🏕 "Accidently ending a phone call with your roommate with a casual ‘I love you’ seems like a very good reason to move out." roommate au with any stranger things guy please!

I did this with Steve, mostly cause you said he's your comfort character.

I Love You - Steve Harrington

Summary: You accidentally confess your feelings to your best friend over the phone.

A/N: I couldn't decide how to end this so it kinda just ends.

Stranger Things Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“What do you think are the chances that I could like...move out of our apartment?” You asked Robin, leaning against the counter of the Radio Shack. It wasn’t exactly the most glamourous job in the world but it afforded a third of the rent on the apartment that Robin had found for you, her, and Steve.

When she’d first suggested the three of you living off campus together, you’d been reluctant. Keeping your feelings for Steve under wraps was a lot easier said than done, especially when you were literally living under the same roof as him. But Robin was persistent (and she put down the deposit for the first month before either of you could even process the idea long enough to back out of it) so it was no surprise to you when you found yourself trapped in an apartment contract, sleeping in a room right next to Steve’s.

Not ideal was a severe understatement and you were waiting with baited breath to completely fuck everything up. Something you absolutely knew you were going to do because when didn’t you fuck things up? You’d been coasting through this masquerade of a friendship for two years now and there was no way you were going to hold out much longer. You knew that. And then it happened, just like you had anticipated but maybe worse than you’d imagined.

“Why do you have to move out?” Robin asked, reaching for some of the fries she had brought you for dinner. You were supposed to be working but the moment she came in you’d flipped the sign on the door and locked it before announcing that you’re entire life was essentially over.

“I told him I loved him.” You admitted, grimacing at the mere thought of your fuck up.

It’d been a simple phone conversation, nothing exciting and definitely nothing to completely screw the future of your friendship with Steve over. He’d called the store cause he was going to the market and wanted to know if you had any special requests that hadn’t been written down. You asked for dunkaroos and then told you loved him. Mostly in that exact order. “Buy me dunkaroos. Thanks. See you later. I love you.” And then before he could answer (thank god before he could answer) you hung up. Hit the end call button and smashed the phone down onto the receiver and hyperventilated your way to the Radio Shack that Robin was working part time at.

It was unfortunate, probably for both of you, that the only person you could talk about Steve with was Robin but you hadn’t really branched out.

“How did that happen?”

“I just was like, bye, and then said I love you!” You replied, pressing your hands against your forehead. “I literally am dying right now.”

“I don’t think you’re dying.” Robin pointed out, not looking nearly as erratic over the entire ordeal as you were. “I mean, I’ve told Steve I love him plenty of times.”

“You’re physically incapable of being attracted to him and I’ve never once heard you tell him you love him.” You replied, “I literally said ‘I love you’ on the phone, to him.”

“So what? Just play it off.”

Robin’s advice was less than helpful. You knew that technically you could just shrug the whole thing off (if he even mentioned it at all, as Robin was quick to point out) and say that you made a mistake. You told your parents you loved them when you signed off. You said it to your grandma when she called on holidays or weekends to chat. It was totally normal and while you didn’t normally say it to Steve it was just a slip of the tongue. Easily played off and never spoken of again.

The second option that Robin presented, while still technically unhelpful, was a lot better than the first. The possibility that, just maybe, Steve hadn’t even heard you or if he had, that he wouldn’t bring it up at all because it didn’t really matter that much. You were friends, had been friends for a while, and you were living together. An ‘I love you’ here and there didn’t have to be romantic or talked about and definitely not agonised over. You could both go on living your lives as normal people who acted normal around each other.

“He’s totally into you though,” Robin had mentioned, ever the informative friend when you were in a crises.

You wanted to say “when pigs fly” or something along those lines but with all the crazy shit you’d experienced in Hawkins, pigs flying probably wouldn’t even make you bat an eye. The only thing left for you to do, since you’d dumped your problems on Robin and finished lunch, was actually return to the scene of the crime.

The apartment was small and your roommates were unavoidable, which meant that hiding from Steve and your embarrassing love confession was virtually impossible. He was home when you got back anyway, stashing his ice cream in the back of the freezer behind a bag of peas because Robin had a tendency to steal it.

“You know she knows you put the Rocky Road back there right?” You asked, skipping the ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’ or ‘is there any chance the phone cut out before I told you I love you’. “Honestly I don’t know how you can eat ice cream after working at Scoops.”

“Me and ice cream have had our differences but, I mean, it’s Rocky Road…who turns their back on Rocky Road?” Steve asked, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

“Right, my bad.” You looked away quickly, going to the fridge to grab a drink. You couldn’t hide from him but maybe you could hibernate in your room until Robin got home and then it wouldn’t be the two of you alone in the apartment. Or it would, but not alone in the same room. Alone in separate rooms, where you couldn’t say anything else embarrassing and he couldn’t mention that you told him you loved him. “I’ll be in my room. I uh, homework.” You grabbed your backpack from its spot by the couch (because you always complained about doing homework by yourself in your room and insisted on sitting on the couch and bothering your roommates with medical terminology until one of them agreed to help you study).

“Are you sure?” Steve looked genuinely surprised because he’s known you for more than five minutes, “what if you need someone to quiz you?”

“I’ll be fine.” You lied.

The whole charade, thanks to Steve’s rare intuitiveness, lasted no more than thirty agonising minutes. You suspected, for the most part, that he was humouring you. Letting you sit there and stare at your textbook and act like you were capable of not distracting yourself when both of you knew that it was impossible. And eventually, when he decided enough time had passed, he knocked on the door.

It was clear then that he was humouring you in more ways then one. Waiting to see if you would crack or if he would have to say something first. Naturally, it was the latter. “Hey, how’s it going?” Steve leaned against the doorframe of your open bedroom door. You’d left it unlocked and not fully closed, a sort of ‘I’m willing to talk but only if you start the conversation’.

“Fine,” you replied, trying not to look over at him. The last thing you needed was to look over at Steve and lose all your nerve.

He shrugged though you couldn’t actually see it, “Okay,” he said it like he didn’t believe you but he pushed off the doorframe and tapped the wall gently, “well tell me if you need a study partner.”

“I will.” you nodded; eyes still diverted.

He tapped the wall one more time, “alright,” he started to back out of the room before he stopped, calling your name, “one more thing.”

Finally, you looked up, “what?”

“I love you too.”

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sordidmusings · 5 months

Text

Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x amab!Reader

Art by ijessbest on Twitter (refusing new name still) I believe they also have a tumblr by the same name!

A/N: Sorry I took so long to post this and thank you for your patience! I had thought I put it up earlier but noticed that wasn't true while doing some organizing. The differences are pretty subtle but I hope they are meaningful for your immersion and help you feel seen! If there's something I can do better (I am cis fem so I'm sure there's much my experience has me missing about yours) please let me know! I'd like to help y'all get your escapism too 🤍

From the original a/n - "Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p"

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: masculine leaning amab!reader (no pronouns or gendered titles), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection

afab!Version

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”

“I’m quaking.”

“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.

“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully. You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.

After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to spoil yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.

You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana. You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.

“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.

“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”

Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.

“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.

Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.

Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face. You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”

Silence.

You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.

“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied. At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.

“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.

“Clown trade?”

He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”

You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”

Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your aftershave. All was still for a few breaths too long.

“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation. Easier said than done when he’s only a head.

You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.

Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.

The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful laughter burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling chuckles, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”

Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.

You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.

Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.

While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.

With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your gorgeous eyes and handsome smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-

You’d love him.

Fuck.

You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.

“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.

Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”

Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.

“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.

Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of amber in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and oud at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine.

You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.

“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You flicked his forehead in warning against further sass.

“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”

The outburst was immediate.

“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”

Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.

The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted?

When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”

You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is pretty.”

He ignored you. As expected.

“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”

He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?

Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.

“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”

After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.

You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.

You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh. His eyes poured over your shirtless chest and the thin sleep pants moving around the shape of your legs. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you chuckled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.

“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.

Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”

Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at the skin on your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.

Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. The feeling of being rested on your bare chest sent his heart racing. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.

He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how it felt to be under your hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.

The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.

All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.

Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.

#buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x y/n #opla buggy x reader #buggy the clown #opla buggy #one piece #amab reader #male reader #opla #one piece live action #x reader

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soleilnomoon · 10 months

Note

hey miss kaia 😼 I wasn’t sure if I should message you or send it this way butttt I’d love a strawberry-mango mai tai (crocodile or shanks) w/ songs 12, 15, and 23 from the playlist 👩🏾‍💻

hiiiii bb 🥰️ ty for requesting! i am so so sorry this took so long, but it’s here at last. also this was my first time writing crocodile, so i was v excited and wrote more than necessary but lbr i’m a long-winded mfer ok, that’s just how it is there’s no cure unfortunately; anyway i like how it turned out and if i kept writing we’d be here forever ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

2.1k words (don’t look at me), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; fluff if you count him not choking her as fluff & smut (and angst that u didn’t ask for but i gave it to u bc i’m unwell like that 😊; feat. post-time skip crocodile in denial (he’s king of it clearly), reader who is (rightfully) in her feelings abt everything, smoking, established relationship, exes 2 lovers bc that’s my jam, a lil bit of miscommunication, crocodile is bad at emotions and reader is too emotional — they’re perfect for each other obvy — rough sex, is it considered knife play if he has a hook (asking 4 a friend), a lot of kissing (hello romance), probably other stuff but idr. crocodile comes w. his own damn warning tbqh. reader sippin that clown girl juice like a champ, i’m proud <3

(if u see spelling/grammar mistakes no u didn’t 💕)

it’s late at night when he arrives at your doorstep; you’re in the middle of flipping through a magazine, the ceiling fan silent and slow, the heat a little more than tolerable as you sip a cool drink. you have no intention of entertaining anyone, but when you recognize the heaviness behind the loud knocks, you make an exception.

of course, you do, there’s no other choice but to do so.

sir crocodile is a man that takes, and takes, and takes without remorse; there’s an insatiable greed — hunger, rather — that he can’t seem to satisfy. or maybe it’s that he’s been denying himself for years and it’s finally become too much for him. a small, quiet buzz infiltrates your body when you yank open the door. you half expect to find someone else there, so you stare openly, disbelief and shock holding you in place.

he peers down at you when you stand there and don’t bother to invite him inside. he knows his presence is probably more than you can handle, but he’s a selfish man and his time is very limited right now. with a subtle nod of his head, almost as if he’s telling — no, commanding — you to let him in; he’s always been like that, wordless commands that he expects to be followed without question.

if you had more sense, you’d slam the door in his face. but sadly, you don’t.

you try not to appear too affected, but as crocodile walks inside, dark eyes taking a sweeping glance around your modest living space, you suddenly remember how to speak.

“h-how did you find me?” your voice is much too soft and timid, something he clicks his tongue at, annoyance slightly bubbling underneath his skin. maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen you in so long, or maybe it’s because he’s much too taken by your beauty — something he tried to forget but was wholly unsuccessful.

he doesn’t spare you another glance as he hangs up his coat, doesn’t bother asking for permission before he rummages through the cabinets in your kitchen to pour himself a drink, and doesn’t think anything of his overly familiar actions in a home that doesn’t belong to him when he makes himself comfortable on one of the plush armchairs in the living room.

you scurry after him, steps soft and hurried, the smoke from his cigar wafting towards you the closer you get. he tilts his head back and exhales deeply, eyes closed as he blows smoke above him — a heady, intoxicating scent that triggers memories of the nights you spent with him before.

not that it matters, but crocodile’s nerves got the best of him before he arrived; he hasn’t seen you in two and a half years, and he always wondered if someone finally snatched you up. he told himself, a long time ago, that he would wreck whatever relationship you found yourself in anyway, but the uncertainty still lingered.

do you still care for him like you claimed you always would?

it’s a question he refuses to ask you because he’s convinced that the answer will ruin his plans no matter what your response is.

when you finally snap out of that momentary stupor, you stand in front of him, eyes glossy, as if you’re holding back years’ worth of tears. but somehow, you both fall back into the same routine you swore you’d never go back to — you straddle his lap, shorts riding up your plush thighs, his golden hook cold as he uses it to lift your chin up.

you remind yourself to keep focused, to not fall for his charm again. you don’t tell him that you’ve stayed single this whole time, mostly because everyone who came into your life after him didn’t compare.

“i hate the smell of smoke,” you declare boldly, voice strained, and maybe a little needy — even though you closely press yourself to him, even though you’re shamelessly rubbing yourself against him with slow, deliberate rolls of your hips. an inescapable, irritating heat passes through him, threatening to burn him alive; already his cock gets stiff when you move on him like that. if he had a bit more sense in him, he’d just leave right now.

but old habits die hard, and for some reason, your presence alone throws him off completely.

in a good way. even though he claims otherwise.

he reminds himself that he’s only here to talk as he runs his large hand along your thigh, admiring the smoothness of your skin — the sensation oddly calming to him. the feel of his rings along the back of your thigh triggers a vivid memory that makes you inhale sharply — you remember that the last time you saw him, you were on your knees and gagging on his cock. that night he fucked you like he knew he’d never see you again; you remember how you felt like melting into him every time he buried his cock deeply in your cunt.

you want to hate him all over and never think about him again.

except you can’t, can you?

there’s a brief pause before he takes another drag from his cigar; and when he lets the silence hang for longer than necessary, you find it hard to breathe.

“and i hate liars,” crocodile says finally, conveniently forgetting that he’s a notorious liar himself. you blush and turn your face at the hidden meaning behind his words — a poor attempt to deny it — but when you look back at him, he blows smoke above your head and fixes you with a pointed look.

an absurd thought occurs, making you curl your fingers as you tug on his shirt and finally question his reappearance. jealousy coils itself tightly around your legs, making your movements sluggish and ineffective. unbecoming, utterly childish, and unavoidable — but you know he won’t listen to that sort of rhetoric. not after being away from you for so long.

you lick your lips and muster enough courage to say, “i wrote to you.” several times, in fact. you figured he was either dead or didn’t want to speak to you. a part of him wants to ask if you’re serious, but from your demure demeanor, he already knows the answer.

crocodile lets out a humorless, pitying laugh.

“it must be nice to live in delusion,” he says bitterly. you look at him, confusion evident in the way you press your lips together as your brows slope down slowly — so he just sighs, defeated by your genuine naivety that he finds terribly charming. when he drags the curve of his golden hook along your jaw, your starts beating faster than necessary, the noise so loud you can barely think straight.

he knows that when he talks to you, he has to… mind how he phrases things, and while it annoys him, he does it anyway. “do you think impel down just allows former warlords the luxury of personal mail?” it’s a rhetorical question, but you shake your head no anyway, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you grab onto his shirt again.

guilt has a nasty habit of making him more considerate than he’d care to be, especially if that guilt comes from you. it has him putting out his cigar and tossing it onto the floor; he’s not sure who kisses who first, but his lips slant against yours and move with familiarity.

your soft whimpers are a honeyed, melodic experience; they wrap around him possessively, driving him to tear through your clothes with his hook, shredding the fabric into large, unusable pieces that languidly slide off your body. a flush settles on your skin, making you feel lightheaded — each kiss more electrifying than the last as he licks inside of your mouth, tongue stroking against yours hotly.

crocodile pulls away suddenly, already feeling like the control he’s kept is practically nonexistent because your mouth is much sweeter than he remembers. your fingers tremble slightly and a breathy moan tumbles out of you when he slaps your ass hard.

the impact is a surprise — one that has you whine pitifully, arousal dripping from your slit in a way that should be embarrassing, but you’re too far gone to care. a lust-induced haze circles around him, nearly clouding his vision as you unbutton his shirt, fingers roaming against his stomach, exploring the dips and grooves between his abs. your touch is much too gentle for a man like him; he knows you deserve better, but he’s too selfish to tell you that. his cock is stiff and heavy in his pants; you relieve that ache as soon as you tug his zipper down and wrap your soft hands around him.

he watches you, amused at your focus and determination when you stroke him faster; and while he’d like to take his time with you, he doesn’t have that luxury tonight. he grabs onto your wrist, halting your movements quickly before biting your lower lip and kissing you greedily; it’s all-consuming, scalding, and possessive.

you should ask him why he’s kissing you like that when he has no intention of staying, but you know it would be an unfair question given his circumstances.

still, your curiosity eats you alive, although not for long.

he lifts you with ease and you sink down onto his thick cock, pussy tight and warm. part of what kept him sane while he was in prison was thinking of you and how much he missed being with you like this — another truth he refuses to reveal, deciding to suffer through the consequences of another failed confession on his part.

you scratch at the skin on the back of his neck the moment he bucks his hips against yours, burying most of his cock inside of you. his thrusts are quick and brutal; you do your best to match his movements, moaning loudly as he wraps an arm around you. he kisses down the length of your neck, teeth grazing your skin roughly as he bites and sucks on your skin harshly. you know there’ll be bruises and marks in the morning, but you don’t care.

all you care about is enjoying this moment with him, one that you’ll commit to memory forever.

his name comes out of your mouth sweetly, like a rhythmic and lyrical poem you crafted for him specifically. he shouldn’t care about any of that, but he can’t stop himself; and maybe he’s just tired of denying it. he tells himself that when he fucks you harder, breasts bouncing and rubbing against his hard chest; he tells himself that when he angles his hips, thrusts frenzied and powerful.

sweat glides down your skin and the heat threatens to suffocate you, both of you are panting and moaning in between kisses. you doubt your poor little heart can take much more of this, but you power through anyway. and maybe it’s because you’re tugging on his hair roughly, almost impatiently, but he takes that as a challenge, holding you steady as his cock bullies into your wet cunt. between the lewd, squelching sounds coming from your pussy and the way he simply can’t stop kissing you — like there’s a thirst he can’t seem to quench, no matter how many times he fucks you — a warmth spreads through your chest.

unbeknownst to you, though, he’s going through something similar; he realizes, belatedly, that he might not be able to let you go after this. impossible thoughts pummel through his mind, ones that he desperately tries to shove aside. intimacy and vulnerability are deadly, in his opinion, but he decides to make an exception for you — and only you.

you cum unexpectedly, hips bucking against his wildly, pussy clenching around his thick girth without remorse. you actually feel your heart skip a beat, like you’re in some romance novel, when he calls out your name — his own orgasm finding him shortly after, thrusts slowing, his cum thick and hot as it spills inside of you.

your legs turn to jelly, making it impossible to move right away, so you slump against him weakly and take deep breaths to calm yourself. he closes his eyes briefly and runs his hand up and down your back; here’s another opportune moment to say something, to say anything, but he swallows back the words, instead opting to kiss your forehead softly.

“you’re an impossible man,” you say with a sigh, blinking as you look up at him; he raises a brow at that, but doesn’t offer a rebuttal. “don’t break my heart.” you jab a finger at his chest, but your features soften when he chuckles at your demand.

another long silence follows, before crocodile speaks again, voice low, but certain as he says, “alright, i won’t.”

344 notes · View notes

enkas-illusion · 4 months

Text

Under The Mistletoe

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Eren x f!reader

Rating: SFW / Fluff

Genre/Theme: Friends to lovers; non-titan au

Content warning: fluff, teasing, language.

Summary: A series of unfortunate events that lead up to a memorable Christmas Eve at the Jaegers’ house with your close friends.

Author's Note: Hello, here’s a short fluffy friend to lovers one-shot with my fav 2D man. Merry Christmas! Thank you for reading <3

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Mistletoe by Justin Bieber

“Yo, you home?” you speak into your phone’s speaker without waiting for a greeting from his end.

“Yes…?” Eren answers.

“Busy?”

“Nope.”

“K. Come to my place.”

“Cool,” he cuts the call. You place your phone on the sofa before moving the mess, that would soon transform into your Christmas decorations, out of the way. As you clear the floor of all the stray pieces and tiny ornaments, you place the tiny chair near the tall tree in your living room while waiting for your best friend’s arrival.

You hear the doorbell ring about 15 minutes later and rush to open it. You greet Eren with a wide grin as you move to the side to let him in. He takes off his shoes near the door as he enters the living room.

“So, what do you need me for, madam?” He asks as he takes off his mufflers and scarf, tossing them on the sofa.

“Ouch… do you think so little of me to assume I only call you over when I need something from you?” you fake gasp.

“If you have to ask, you already know the answer dummy,” he pinches your nose before walking to the undecorated tree, deciphering the reason you’d called him over. “For this? You’re far better than I am at this arts and crafts shit.”

“Well, I cannot reach the top even with the tallest chair I own… call it the perks of being the taller friend, I’ll always think of you for such things,” you smile at him before blowing him a dramatic kiss.

“Sure,” he rolls his eyes as you lean down to the tree to start with the bottom half of the decorations. Eren sits next to you, playing with one of the tiny red stockings he picks up, “A friend in need is a friend indeed.”

“A best friend who makes cinnamon rolls cause she knows how much you love them is a friend indeed,” you try to imitate his voice, resulting in a terrible imitation.

His ears perk up at your comment nonetheless, completely ignoring the teasing tone and only focusing on what really matters.

“Did you really?!” he asks, excited like a puppy when he hears someone say ‘treat’.

“Yes… There's still about 10 minutes left though. It’s in the oven,” you say as you point to the tree, “So you should probably hurry up.”

“What a meanie!” he huffs as he fiddles with the ornaments, decorating them on the tree. You laugh as you begin working on the other side at a quicker pace than he does.

A few moments pass by before you hear his voice again, “This tree is so unnecessarily tall… You know, mum said you could just come to our house to celebrate the holidays when I told her you couldn’t go home because of work.”

“That’s so sweet of her… but I still wanted my apartment to look like it’s the holiday season. If I can’t go home this year, the least I can do is recreate some of the warmth and Christmas feels here.”

“Awww, is that why you called me? Cause I’m the star that lights up your whole world?” he says as he holds the golden ornament over his head.

“Not sure about my world but definitely my Christmas tree,” you tease as you check the time. You get up to walk to the kitchen as Eren fixes the chair closer to the tree.

“Only tolerating your bullshit for the rolls by the way…” you hear him complain behind you. You put the oven mitt on as you pull out the batch of fresh cinnamon rolls. You carefully place the pan on the counter, evenly pouring the sugar syrup over the buns.

Your body jerks involuntarily when you hear a loud shriek from the living room. Your heartbeat picks up pace erratically as you run out the kitchen to see what had happened. You find Eren lying on the floor, his right hand holding his left forearm tightly. He writhes in pain when he tries to move his left wrist.

“Ren, what happened?” you panic as you run to his side as you help him stand up. He doesn’t need to explain however – you see the chair with a broken leg lying next to the tree.

“Ugh– Careful,” he hisses as you try to help him straighten his wrist.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea the chair would break… does it hurt a lot, I’m so so sorry Eren, if I knew I wouldn’t have asked–” your shaky voice breaks, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I’d rather have me fall from a broken chair than you,” he gives you half a smile but it’s so sincere that it makes you want to cry even more.

“Let me get the first-aid kit,” you sniffle but before you can rush to get the kit, Eren rests his right hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

“Get the car keys instead, I think I’m gonna need a little bit stronger than pain relief spray,” he says calmly. On the inside, he’s freaking out, but he doesn’t let it show since he did not want you to panic even further.

Your expressions distort to the point where it looks like you’re in more agony than the man who just fell from a chair. You nod frantically as you go to grab your keys before hurrying out the door to get him to a hospital.

~~~

“Sign it,” he says as he sees you walking into the hospital room where the nurse is fixing a cast around his forearm and wrist, “after all, the artist needs to sign their artwork.”

Eren shows little to no signs of discomfort and you wonder if he’s a psychopath or it’s simply the painkillers working. You open the water bottle before handing it to him as you give another apologetic look – the hundredth one in the last hour since the accident.

“I’m kidding! I’m all good!” He reassures you as he raises the arm up once the nurse is done fixing the cast.

“It’s better to rest for at least 6 weeks if you want to heal properly,” the nurse interjects plainly.

“That long? It’s just a hairline fracture right?” he asks her, confused.

“You still need proper rest Eren!” you scold him as you take his phone, the bag of medicines and water bottle in your hands, not wanting him to carry anything at all.

“I’m fine! This is nothing!” he chuckles, cupping your cheek with his free hand to reassure you. You bring your hand up to his, pulling it away before intertwining your fingers with his.

“Is that all?” you ask the nurse with concern and she nods. “Thank you,” you sigh as you lead Eren out the room.

“The bill?” he asks as you walk out the hallway.

“Paid it already,” you reply.

“I’ll pay you back later, yeah?” he says as you get to the car.

“No, don’t. It’s my fault...” you murmur timidly as you drop his hand to open the door for him.

“Hey… it’s not. I love how much you care about me but please don’t worry so much,” he speaks, holding your hand once again, squeezing it gently.

“But I feel so bad,” you pout as you move your fingers lightly over his cast with your other hand before looking up at him with sadness in your eyes.

He headbutts you playfully, causing you to finally laugh as he says softly, “Give me all the cinnamon rolls and we’ll call it even.”

~~~

Eren wasn’t kidding about the cinnamon rolls – especially now that he had the golden ticket to get you to make as many as he wanted. Usually, you’d only make it occasionally or if he was upset with you after some silly argument and you wanted to suggest a truce temporarily.

So when you arrive at his place in the afternoon, with a container that doesn’t have any cinnamon rolls, 3 days later on Christmas eve, he acts like a bratty child who had been denied his favourite treat.

“Eren! This soup’s better for you. I’m not gonna let you binge on another whole batch of cinnamon rolls!” you speak sternly.

“I don’t recall asking for healthy shit. My mood’s craving cinnamon rolls!” Eren slaps his right hand on the table exaggeratedly.

“I cannot believe how childish you’re being. Where’s your mum? She’ll support me…” you shake your head.

“Carla’s out shopping for presents. I’m afraid you’re going to have to deal with him on your own,” you hear a voice and turn your head to look at Eren’s father entering the house.

The crease on your forehead that had formed while talking to Eren melts away when you greet his father, “Mr. Jaeger, good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon. Is my son bothering you too much?” he asks and you see Eren turn red out of embarrassment.

“Not at all,” you chuckle, “There’s no tantrum of his that I can’t handle.”

“Good. I assume you’re staying for dinner, yes?” Grisha asks politely.

“Yes. So are Mikasa and Armin, they might arrive anytime soon,” you reply, the polite smile fixed on your face.

“Great!” He nods before turning to scold his son, “Eren, don’t trouble the poor girl.”

Eren shakes his head before his father excuses himself to get to his room, leaving the two of you alone again.

“Poor girl? You’re so creepily formal with my parents. They think you’re the model child and I'm the one who corrupts you… even after all these years!” he snorts.

“Well… I am innocent,” you bat your eyelashes at him, “You’re the devil here.”

He rolls his eyes at you before leaning forward and opening his mouth, motioning you to feed him the soup.

“Your right hand’s fine! Drink it yourself.”

“This is the least you can do,” he says with puppy eyes, waving his cast up in front of your face.

“Ugh… fineee,” you take the spoon, blowing on the hot soup gently before feeding it to him.

When Armin and Mikasa arrive about an hour later, Eren goes into heavy, exaggerated details while telling the two about how he got the injury.

“... And then this one cried like a baby… more than I did,” he jokes, pointing your way.

“I was actually crying that my favourite chair of all time broke,” you shoot back dryly.

“Lies, you guys know she’s in denial about how much she loves me, right…? Anyway, the doc said it’ll be another 3 months at least before I’m healed completely.”

“What a drama queen, you’ll be fine in a month’s time!” you narrow your eyes at him.

“You guys bicker like an old married couple,” Armin notes and Mikasa nods in agreement. You’re pretty sure he’s teasing you too but he doesn’t follow it up with a laugh as if it's a serious statement, making you blush awkwardly as you try to avoid Eren’s gaze actively.

Despite Eren constantly teasing you throughout the night, it’s a peaceful celebration nonetheless. When Grisha and Carla retire to their bedroom after wishing your group ‘a jolly Christmas’ shortly after midnight strikes, the four of you gather around in the living room to exchange your secret santa gifts.

When you get a new set of oven mitts, a mini speaker and a perfume you’d been waiting to be restocked since forever with a note that read ‘Couldn’t decide which one was the best option so consider yourself lucky to get a genie like myself’, you jump up to give Eren a big hug while being careful not to bump into his wrist.

“Was it that obvious?’ he laughs.

“We never could’ve figured out the perfume one,” Mikasa giggles. Your eyes meet Eren’s and you feel your heart skip a beat as you eyes stray to his plump lips for a split second – brushing away the very inappropriate thought you just had about your best friend.

You quickly move away as you change the topic and get Mikasa and Armin to open their gifts. It’s obvious they got each other based on the gifts they'd received.

Eren is the last to open his mystery present. You feel nervous, suddenly second-guessing your entire decision. However, it dissolves just as soon as it arrives when you see Eren’s jaw drop at your gift.

“Holy shit! This might as well be the best gift I’ve received in a while,” his eyes gleam at the signed manga copy by his favourite mangaka Hajime Isayama.

“It better be! Took a lot of eff–” you smack your hand over your mouth mid-sentence at spoiling your own identity as his secret santa.

He smiles softly, hugging you as he teases, “Thanks Sherlock, it would’ve been so hard to figure out who it was!”

“Oh wait a min–,” you look around the sofa to find the other package you’d gotten him. You leave his side to get the tiny gift, handing it to him with a playful grin. He raises an eyebrow at you as he unwraps it. He lets out a chuckle when he pulls out the tiny cinnamon roll crochet plushie and bursts out laughing when he reads your note with it – ‘This should last you a long time, stop asking me for another batch already!’

“Never,” he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in tighter as you stumble in place, feeling the vibrations of his torso caused by his laughter. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your ear before letting go, your skin tingling with warmth at the gesture.

“Oh! Before I forget… mum knitted sweaters for all of you guys,” Eren grins proudly. All three of you basically pounce on Eren excitedly when he returns with the sweaters in one hand.

He hands you yours the last and it's your favourite colour. “Told mum to use that specifically,” he confesses, half-whispering so that only you can hear him.

You bite your lip and lower your head to keep yourself from smiling too hard. It's moments like these that have you feeling as if the platonic line in your friendship gets tangled with the romantic one.

Eren Jaeger could bully you to death, within his rights as your best friend, but then he'll randomly do something so sweet that it makes you awfully aware of the growing crush you have on him.

“Thank you,” you smile when you look up and your eyes meet. Eren believes that this smile could be the only thing to melt him if he were a block of ice.

At that moment, he wants nothing more than to squeeze your stupid face and kiss you to his heart's content. He feels a pang in his chest – the intense desire of his crush on you fighting against the rational part of his brain not wanting to spoil your friendship.

When you suggest watching a random Christmas movie, everyone cuddles together on the sofa like birds do on a cold morning. You don't remember most of it since you fall asleep halfway through the first movie itself. Since you fell asleep with your head on Eren's lap, he didn't dare move till the morning – he gladly accepted his fate as your pillow.

Maybe it was something in the air urging him to do something but when he saw the way you peacefully rested on him, he felt an intense need of wanting to protect and cherish you forever. Right there, he made his decision – he was going to confess his feelings to you. His love deserved a fair shot. Besides, he figured he'd simply call it a joke and move on if things didn't go his way.

~~~

Your slumber breaks when you hear soft whispers calling out your name. You feel the shuffling movement of your head being lifted up before being placed back down on a soft surface.

“Hmm?” You speak groggily as you sit up, rubbing your eyes as you sense Eren walking away. You check your phone and it’s just quarter to 5 in the morning. You're about to go back to sleep when you hear his voice again, along with footsteps pacing around from one end of the hallway to the other.

“Come here,” you hear Eren’s voice beckoning you from the passage leading up to his room. You want to go back to sleep but get up despite it when you remember he has a broken wrist and might need your help with something. You quietly tip-top to follow his voice, not wanting to wake up your other two friends who are splayed over the sofa, still deep asleep.

“Hey, what's up?” You speak softly when you look around in the dim light of his room to find him. You turn around when you hear the door close behind you.

“Merry Christmas,” Eren grins, standing just a foot away from you, holding a badly plucked green branch tied with a red ribbon over your heads with his free hand.

“Merry Christmas– what's that?” you mumble as your eyes fix on his hand to observe it closely. It's a Mistletoe – your eyebrows furrow as you look down to his face, expecting an explanation to be written over it.

You feel your heartbeat picking up its pace against your chest. You know what this means yet you can’t believe it entirely. You don't want to make a fool out of yourself by assuming something only for it to be one of his stupid pranks.

You think he's about to headbutt you like he usually does, but he catches you by surprise when he simply rests his forehead against yours.

“You know what this means?” he breathes as he brings his hand down to hold the mistletoe in the space between your bodies.

This is it! He's asking you to kiss him!!!

Still wanting to play it safe, despite his blatant hints, you nod your head as you speak, “This means I give you a bone-crushing hug.”

His eyes narrow at you as he pulls back, “No… what a chicken. Kiss me.”

Your heart flutters, yet you try to play it cool and tease him further, “What a baby.”

You wrap your hand around his neck to pull his face down to your level. He obliges and you place two fingers to his chin to turn his face to the side. You lean in to kiss him on his left cheek.

He lets out a soft chuckle as he imitates you, kissing you on your left cheek in return. You giggle as you give him another peck on his right cheek next, resulting in him repeating you once again.

Then comes the forehead and you have to stand on your toes to do it. He leans down to kiss your forehead, you're pretty sure he was about to joke about it but he doesn’t break the intensity of the moment.

Your heart feels like it's almost about to burst out of your chest when you kiss the tip of his nose, followed by his chin, giggling nervously.

You close your eyes in anticipation, expecting the touch of his lips on the same spots on your face but it never arrives. Instead, your breathing halts abruptly when you feel his lips land on your lips.

You pull back quickly and open your eyes to scan his face for any signs of mischief. Instead you’re met with the softest expression, displaying nothing but a kind adoration for you. He brings your hand up to place it on his cheek, smiling at you, encouraging you to dare.

Without wasting another second, you cup his face with both your hands as you pull him down for a kiss. He smiles into the kiss and you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips moving against yours.

Your legs feel giddy and your thoughts feel intoxicated by Eren’s sweet caresses. His free hand is wrapped around your waist firmly and even as you kiss him, you’re cautious about his cast, trying not to accidentally touch his left arm.

You pull away from his touch hastily when you hear the doorknob twist. You both stand next to each other, staring at Armin with a half-perplexed and half-embarrassed look on your face.

“I can’t seem to fi– oh,” he stops when he looks at both of your faces, his half-lidded sleepy eyes suddenly alert. Armin has always been a smart guy – which right about now is making you and Eren look like two deers caught in headlights.

Armin raises his eyebrows, the grin on his face growing wider. “Don’t forget to lock the door,” he mumbles as he simply turns back around before closing the door behind him, leaving you and Eren alone once again.

Eren’s quick to lock the door before turning around to lean against it, signalling you to come closer with the motion of his fingers. You roll your eyes but follow him regardless, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your face on his chest.

Your hand moves to his pec, feeling around for his heartbeat before resting it there completely. You close your eyes and you soak into the warmth of his body as your best friend/lover places soft kisses on the top of your head.

Your heart flutters again, filled with happiness to the brim, making you wish you could trap time in a bottle to seal this moment with you forever.

~fin~

#erensbirdie #aot x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot x you #aot smut #aot #eren yeager #eren jaeger

114 notes · View notes

mariacrow · 8 months

Note

Hi! Can I request bayverse bumblebee celebrating reader's birthday? Just really fluffy unlimited attention that they haven't gotten from anyone else in years 🙏 I ask cuz it was my birthday recently and I've been feeling pretty down about everything 😔 Thanks! ❤️

Sweetheart, I know exactly how you feel. I am so sorry to hear this… I know I made a schedule for the requests but I need to write this first! 💛

I hope you enjoy honey and happy birthday! 🥳🐝

❁ Bumblebee x reader ❁

2nd person

angst and fluff

female reader

takes place after Transformers: The Last Knight

takes place in the reader’s backyard and garage

bad mood on your birthday, comfort, gifts

Bumblebee was so excited for your birthday. He could barely go into stasis the previous night. He spent the whole night in the garage, making you a gift. Being the clumsy bot he is, he was making a lot of noise and a lot of mess despite being as careful as possible. He was trying his best not to wake you up because then you’d come to check on him and the surprise would be ruined.

Unfortunately, around 3am, he knocked down A WHOLE ASS SHELF in your garage. The tall metal structure banged on the floor and made the whole house shake. As he started panicking, he was turning around and knocking down more stuff, trying to pick it up along with everything that fell off of it.

Soon he could hear your footsteps approaching. With no room to transform into a car due to all the mess, he was stuck. You opened the garage door and to his surprise, in your sleepy state, you couldn’t see properly due to your blurry sight.

“Bee…? You okay in there…?” you asked while rubbing your eye and yawning. You were so cute with your messy hair and twisted pajamas.

“Mhm mhm!” he buzzed while trying to hide the unfinished gift behind his back along with all the mess.

“Why aren’t you in stasis…?” you were almost sleep walking, you probably won’t remember half of this in the morning.

He looked around in panic and awkwardly shrugged, mimicking what would sound like “I don’t know”

“Mmmrr okay… See you in the morning then, goodnight…” as you went back to bed.

He ex vented in relief as he, now calmly, started putting everything where it belongs.

He only got a couple of hours of stasis when he finished with your birthday present. But it was just enough for him. He woke up happier than ever! He was impatiently walking around your backyard waiting for you to wake up while holding your birthday gift behind his back.

But you were nowhere to be found… You didn’t spread your curtains and happily say good morning like you always do… You didn’t play loud music while doing your morning routine…

He was getting worried. Then he saw you in the kitchen, eating your breakfast as if someone is holding a gun to your head. He bowed and tapped on your backyard door.

You smiled a little and waved at him. He waved back and gestured you should come out. And you did. Dragging your feet and lazily opening the backyard door.

He immediately grabbed you and started spinning you around in his safe grasp while mimicking the tune of the birthday song.

“Bee! Wait- ahh! Hahaha!” you couldn’t help but laugh. He was so joyful.

He brought you closer to his face plate and nuzzled his muzzle against your cheek, as if he was kissing you. You gave him a hug, “Ahh! That tickles!” you giggled.

He then looked at you with wide sparkling optics. But then his expression softened as he noticed you aren’t as excited as you’re supposed to.

“What’s the matter…?” he asked over the radio.

“Nothing, just.. I don’t know. I’m not used to all this… My mood always hits rock bottom when my birthday comes…”

He let out a low, sad buzz as he gently rubbed your back with his digit.

“But— it’s your— special day!”

“I know, Bee… I’m trying to think that way too…”

“Please… Don’t be— sad…”

He made you smile. Your puppy eyes made him melt. Another low buzz rumbled in his chassis as he brought you closer to his face plate again, closing his optics as he snuggled.

“You’re right…” you cupped his precious face, “I should enjoy this day. With you…”

He nodded like a little kid as his optics filled with excitement.

“I made— something— for you.” he said as he finally showed you what he was holding behind his back all along.

It was a bouquet of 5 flowers made out of wires poked in a metal plate and tied from underneath along with a butterfly and a bumblebee. It wasn’t perfect but you could definitely figure what it was.

You gasped and covered your mouth. You were speechless, taking it and carefully holding it.

“Bee… You made this…?” tears almost filled your eyes.

He nodded. He pointed at the butterfly and then at you. He then pointed at the bumblebee and then at himself.

“Oh! I get it! The butterfly is me and the bumblebee is you!” you said happily.

He rapidly nodded again, it seemed as if he was smiling.

“I… I’m speechless! This is the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten!” joy and gratitude was written all over your face. It made his young spark melt.

“Anything— for you— Y/N.”

“So that’s why you were making a mess in the garage last night!” you laughed as you figured.

He rubbed the back of his helm as he innocently shrugged, looking like this: “😅”

“Oh, my dearest Bee- WOAH!”

He suddenly transformed which made you laugh as you found yourself in the driver’s seat of the Chevy with the creative sculpture in your lap (which will proudly stand in your bedroom).

“Now let’s— go get— a birthday cake!”

“Hell yeah!”

He floored it through the garage, again knocking down some stuff, mostly flowerpots.

“BEE!!!” to which he laughed.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Buzzbuzz~” which sounded like “maybe”.

“What do you mean “maybe”? You silly!” you playfully kicked him to which he made you jolt in your seat.

You kept nudging him while laughing as he was making you bounce in the driver’s seat. All that matters to him is your happiness, your smile, your laugh… Your laugh is like music to his audio receptors.

“I love you, Bee… to Cybertron and back!”

“Nooo— I love you— more!”

“Nu-uh! I love YOU more!”

“Nu-uh!” he imitated you.

And you went on and on while enjoying the ride to the local bakery. He really made you feel special, like a princess. You are his princess after all and he wants only the best for you. His spark aches when you’re sad… Especially on a day like this!

Of course he turned on the radio. You sang along and enjoyed the fun ride.

Of course the cake was yellow with sunflowers and bumblebees. He convinced you to buy candles too. Back at home, in the backyard, he prepared a little picnic for you. He placed a blanket on the grass and prepared the cake. He hummed the birthday song’s tune for you again.

“Make a wish darling~” he used a movie quote.

When you blew out the candles he clapped for you and squeezed you in his arms which almost made you lose your breath.

He fed you, played with your hair, nuzzled into your neck, gently swayed you from side to side to the music… He really made you feel like the only person on the planet. A lonely butterfly dancing with a happy bumblebee.

His one and only.

Dividers belong to @patches-1105 , @lostsozai , @cute-sushi-roll 💛

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers bayverse #bayverse transformers #bumblebee #tf bumblebee #transformers bumblebee #bumblebee x reader #bayverse bumblebee #autobots #transformers fanfiction

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sunnycanvas · 8 months

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one nigth erotic of the king balwin

You always wanted to try horse riding. You knew your husband to be excellent horseman. Unfortunately he barely got time so he promised you that he would teach you riding at night. You were very excited for your horse riding sessions. Baldwin IV instructed you to wear a commener's dress to avoid being noticed at night

Unfortunately Baldwin IV had a very different concept about riding

"Ngh! Ah! Hmph! M-ah love" "This is not I meant with riding sessions" "I meant horse riding sessions".

Baldwin IV was grinning below you. Clearly enjoying you riding his thigh. To make matters worse he was completely nude while you were fully clothed. You wanted smack of his grin from his face.

"Easy now my love, it's an important session to learn before riding a actual horse"

"As if I would listen to your bullshi- Ah!"

Baldwin IV who lightly pinched your nipples was looking at you with his gaze lowered and said growled with deep voice"Watch your attitude my queen"

"You know how swearing is against our moral principles"

You looked at him and appalled and replied "And making your wife ride her husband in middle of night in one of the empty room of horse stable ok?"

Baldwin IV smirked and said "You sure didn't mind flirting with our palace servent. Since you are a whore you need to be treated like one"

"Mmph! Ah! I wasn't flirting-ah!" "You ripped off my shirt". Baldwin IV smirked and said "It's important to keep your breath steady during your horse riding sessions" . Baldwin IV then started playing with your breast.

"So soft" he mumbled in bliss and soon buried his head in your chest and started licking between the middle of valley of your chest. You then stopped with your cheeks flushed trying to catch your breath. Baldwin IV not appreciating it thrust inside of you "Don't stop your sessions aren't over yet". Just then you heard the sound of some one entering the stable. Baldwin IV smirked and said "Seems like your lover is here". He layed you down on hay. Pulled down him pants releasing his cock and roughly pounded you. You tried covering your mouth but Baldwin IV was having none of that, he held your wrist above his head with one hand and said "Don't be modest moan my name and let people know who you belong to"

"Bauoh ! Ah!"

Baldwin IV roughly pounded and said "No, that's not my name" "Say, it!" "Say it properly and louder"

"Baudooh! Ah!" "I caAhn't" "Too rough"

Baldwin IV smiled and said "Yes, my queen?" "Am I being too rough"?

"Ah, Yye-s!" "Please ngh! Have mercy!"

Hearing this Baldwin IV increased his pace and his dick reaching deepest of your womb. You walls quickly tightening around his dick and squeezing out his baby making seeds .You soon heared the door closing knowing that the boy left the horse stable probably traumatized. "It seems like my queen wants to be breed first" hearing this you quickly shaked your head indicating "No".

"Your body begs to differ" replied Baldwin IV smug. "Now scream my name"

"Baudouin" you screamed as you both cummed.

Baldwin IV kissed your forehead, layed on front of your body and said "I don't doubt your fidelity, my love" "It's just that I knew that boy liked you and I wanted to show him that you are mine."

Confused you asked "How did you know he comes here in middle of the night"

Baldwin IV replied "That doesn't matter love, what matters is that I am enjoying my horse lesson way more than required"

Baldwin IV started stripping you off your remaining clothes "You don't need clothes since your are a horse" Get on your all four"

Not having time to think you did as he told you. Baldwin IV satisfied by your obedience said "Now make a sound of horse" . You wanted to deny his ridiculous request but he began thrusting you from behind "Ngh! Ngh Ah!" Baldwin IV mischievously replied "You really do sound like a horse" . Offended you said "Stoah pulling my lengh" Ah!". Your words died down and Baldwin IV kept thrusting harder behind you. "What a good horse you are" "From now on you will be addressing me as master during our horse riding sessions" Baldwin IV moaned and realeased inside you again. " You are my favourite horse from now, I will ride you every day" You attempted to crawl away but Baldwin IV grabbed your ankle and pulled you back. "Where are you going" "Your sessions aren't over yet!" "Sit on my lap and ride me again" "And don't think this is only night sessions" "It might happen in day as well". You gulped. "What have I gotten myself into" you thought.

#baldwin iv #baldwin iv imagine #baldwin iv x reader #kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fanfic #kingdom of heaven fanfiction #kingdom of heaven fandom #kingdom of heaven headcanons #king baldwin iv

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humblequestvinyl · 1 year

Text

mountain with a view

MOUNTAIN WITH A VIEW, EDDIE DIAZ X FEM!READER

APART OF THE ‘ROLLING UP THE WELCOME MAT’ SERIES

SUMMARY: after one too many late nights, y/n l/n is sitting at their kitchen table, debating if her and her husband's marriage is even worth fighting for.

inspired by mountain with a view, by kelsea ballerini

previous chapter, | next chapter,

lowercase is intentional! wc: 1.9k

warning: angst!!!!! swearing, marriage problems, trust issues (?) if there’s anything i missed let me know!

a/n: AHHH NEW SERIES W EDDIE <33! i'm so excited for this!! also my deepest apologies in advance bc i am so mean to eddie in this LMFAOO hope u guys enjoy <333

“COUNTRY STAR Y/N L/N HAS FILED FOR DIVORCE FROM HER HUSBAND, EDDIE DIAZ AFTER FIVE YEARS OF MARRIAGE.”

the voice of a news reporter flooded through the tv as photos of the former couple were placed on the screen.

“L/N on instagram asked her fans on instagram to be mindful, and that both parties are fragile, and to respect their privacy.”the reporter went on, before a photo flashed of the h/c girl, “L/N is currently gearing up for her fifth album release; SUBJECT TO CHANGE this september.”

the video came to a stop, and she saw her best friend standing in front of her, with a horrified look on his face, “you and eddie are getting a divorce?” her heart hurt. this wasn’t how she wanted him to find out.

“it was bound to happen buck.”y/n’s voice was strained due to all of the crying she had done for the past two months, with a heavy feeling in her chest, “you and i both saw this coming.”

“i didn’t.” evan buckley’s voice dropped, and y/n slipped the shades to the top of her head, revealing her bloodshot eyes, “never once did i see this coming.”

“this wasn’t how we wanted you to find out.”her voice cracked, playing with the strings of her hoodie, “eddie said he was going to call you about it.” buck’s eyes watched as the girl avoided his eyes, refusing to make contact with them, knowing if she did she would probably burst into tears.

“why did you file for divorce?”

(TWO MONTHS BEFORE.)

STARING OUT THE BIG OPEN WINDOWS OF THEIR PENTHOUSE,

y/n could see the sun rising as she finished making breakfast for her and her stepson, making sure to leave some for her husband in case he came home in time.

eddie diaz and y/n l/n had first met when she was 21, and he was 23, one kick-starting on their music career, while one had just become a single parent to a son from a former marriage. somehow, they still made it work. getting married at 23 and 25, going from texas, to los angeles, becoming a mother figure to his son chris, and making sure she could still go on tour.

they thought they had it all figured out, with everything working and a fixed schedule.

until they didn't.

so here she sat, waiting for her husband to come home while her stepson got ready for school, knowing she’d have to force a smile, make everything seem like it was okay, and be able to play the part of the perfect wife, perfect wife. it wasn’t until she smelt smoke that y/n realized the toast was burnt to absolute crisp, and was ruined, meaning she’d have to make more.

“shit.”she muttered, rushing to make more, as she saw chris come down the hallway, and she forced a smile, brushing her h/c hair out of her face, making sure to tie it back.

“did you burn the toast again?”chris asked with a smile, and y/n forced a laugh, nodding before she brought over a plate with pancakes and eggs on them. “unfortunately, i did. i’m making more right now.”

a knock on the front door came, before it opened, revealing carla, and she had a wide smile spread across her face as she came in, and y/n waved as the toast popped up, less burnt than before. quickly placing it on a plate, and putting it on the table, making it so chris would be able to get to school on time.

“you go get ready for the day, i’ll make sure chris eats.”carla told the 28 year old, giving her a soft smile, and y/n nodded, before rushing off towards her room, and grabbing the clothing she needed for that day.

walking into the bathroom after she had changed, her eyes glanced down, seeing a wedding band that wasn’t hers sitting on the counter.

it was her husband’s.

she felt anger run through her, with a million thoughts racing through her mind. why would he take it off? or why did he leave it at home? did he forget it? did he take it off intentionally before he left for work?

why did he take it off?

“bye n/n!’chris yelled, breaking the girl out of her thoughts, and she gripped the counter, trying to keep her anger under check. “have a good day at school chris!”she yelled back, and the front door slammed, as she took a deep breath in.

it was a few moments before she walked back out towards the kitchen, noticing everything was put away, except for the burnt toast. opening up her refrigerator, y/n grabbed the butter out, and brought it over towards the kitchen table, before spreading the butter against the toast, and taking a bite out of it.

her eyes scanned back over the mountains as the clock struck 7:30 am, realizing her husband was over three hours late coming home, and had missed seeing his son in the morning for the second time that week.

it killed her. it absolutely killed her that he wasn’t coming home, and she was the one who was carrying all of that weight on her shoulders, trying to keep this marriage going when it was all one sided. she felt like a glass plate, and was breaking into a million pieces.

hearing boots come towards her, her head snapped towards it, seeing her husband eddie diaz walking towards her, before placing a kiss on the top of her head, with no words spoken between the two. the tension in the air made her uncomfortable. it was so thick that you could almost cut it through it with a knife.

it was a while before any words were spoken between the two, and when they were, they were laced with anger and confusion.

“you left your ring at home.”y/n spoke up, taking another bite of the burnt toast, afraid to see the look her husband was giving her, “and you were late coming home again.”

“i forgot it when i left.”eddie admitted, glancing over at his wife for a moment, before looking back at his plate of food, “and i was finishing up something with buck.”

wrong. he wasn’t with buck, because buck had texted y/n back at five, saying he hadn’t seen eddie since he left his shift at 4am.

“what? you don’t believe me?”eddie questioned, as y/n got up to throw the toast away, keeping silent for a moment, debating on how to handle the situation, before she shook her head no.

“i don’t believe you.”y/n admitted, placing the plate in the sink, avoiding eye contact with him, and she could feel the anger radiating off of him, “because buck texted me at five that he hadn’t seen you since you left your shift at four.”

she saw eddie freeze, knowing he had gotten caught into a lie, and y/n had seen right through it. he wouldn’t be able to hide whatever he was away for.

“okay fine, i wasn’t with buck.”eddie admitted, causing y/n to lean up against the kitchen counter, facing her husband to read his body language.

“so, where were you?”

“i don’t understand why you need to know.”eddie shrugged, getting defensive, causing y/n to read all the red flag, “it doesn’t matter to you at all.”

“it does matter to me eddie.”y/n spoke softly, fearing of an argument breaking out, but it was enviable with the two. “i want to make sure you’re not sitting in the goddamn morgue.”

“well guess what, i’m not.”eddie spewed, catching y/n off guard, “i’m standing right in front of you, trying to eat breakfast while you’re bothering me.”

“because i want for you to realize that i’m worried about you.”she told him, and she could tell he was dismissive, “i wait up for you every night, only for you to not come home until chris is about to leave for school.”

“and i never asked you to do that.”he stabbed his eggs with his fork, and y/n tensed up, “that’s your own doing for staying up and waiting.” y/n gave him a look as she took his words like gut punches, making her absolutely sick, “maybe you should just stop staying up and waiting.”

“maybe you should come home on time.”y/n shot back, folding her arms as she watched him closely, “to the family you have. to your son.”

“i do!”eddie defended, and y/n shook her head, “no you don’t! for the past four months you’ve been late coming home after every single shift eddie!”

“you’re forgetting your ring, you’re not coming home on time and you’re distant.”y/n pointed out as eddie brushed past her to put his plate in the sink, and walked towards their shared bathroom, slipping his wedding band on, “there! are you happy now?”

“no i’m not!”y/n exclaimed as eddie started to change, and she followed him, “we’ve been in and out of therapy for the past three years and absolutely nothing has changed eddie. i’m so tired of it.”

“i mentally cannot handle another year of us being just fine.”y/n whispered, causing eddie to snap his head towards her, with a shocked look spread across his face, “what are you trying to say?”

“i want a divorce.”y/n spoke aloud, making all of her feelings real, and she saw eddie’s face fall.

“you want a divorce? all because i’m taking extra shifts to try and provide for our family? to pay for the mortgage for the house you insisted we had to have.”he shot back, and y/n felt her anger bubble over, causing her to snap, “you don’t even pay for the house! i do! it’s under my name and everything! not yours!”

“i’m the one who pays for the cleaners, the groceries, the electric!”she yelled, as the two stood in their bedroom, one that hadn’t felt like theirs in months. “i feel like i’m the only one who’s doing all the work all the time because you’re never home!”

“you loved me way more at 23 than you do now eddie, and that's a fact.”she told him as she brushed past him to pack a bag, “i cannot keep doing this anymore.”

“you’re just like your parents. giving up way too easy on our marriage.” eddie swore, and y/n felt something snap inside of her. “first off, don’t you dare talk about my parents! secondly, i have tried for months to get through to you.”

“you’re the one who never came to nashville when i called you begging to hop on that flight, one i paid for by the way!”y/n exclaimed, zipping up the bag she had packed, “i knew you had the week off and didn’t have chris at all and you still refused to come.”

“i’m done trying eddie.”she finished, before storming past him and walking towards the front door of their penthouse.

“so you’re done?”he questioned as she grabbed her car keys, and opened up the front door, staring right back at him with tears in her e/c eyes.

“this is when it’s over for me.”

#eddie diaz fic #eddie diaz fluff #eddie diaz x y/n #eddie diaz #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz angst #eddie x reader #911 spoilers #911 on fox #buckley diaz family #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #rolling up the welcome mat

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blingblong55 · 8 months

Text

Just a bet - Philip Graves

This is the alternative ending to Part 2 (Part 1 is here)

Based on a request:

Based on a request: Can I make a request, please of a heartbreaker Graves x Naive/Innocent Fem!reader? (Am in need some feelings hurt to feel something) Prompts; - reader is a general’s daughter, whilst grave is an ambitious soldier who aimed to be a captain (or somewhere along the lines) - There were bets of who can f-ck the general’s daughter happening behind the scene among the soldiers, and Grave decided to join in - Unfortunately reader, fell in love with grave. Found out it just a bet, felt betrayed and heartbroken. I hope this is okay with you, also it's okay if you don’t want to do it 🫶🏻🫶🏻 tqsm!

F!Reader, angst, implied sexual relation

A/N: All too well (10min. version (Taylor version)) - Taylor Swift and you'll see where I got my inspiration.

There you stood in an empty hallway before reaching the mess hall, heartbroken and all hope lost.

It pained you to know that he didn't want you for your way of thinking or who you are as a person but for a stupid bet, loose change for some and a dick move from him. You walked away, the hoodie he had given you last night in your hand. You drop it and continue walking away.

What went so wrong last night that he just hurt you this way?

You, out in the cold of the night as you wait for your dad to get off work. You were in your civilian clothes, ready to just head home and sleep. "It's cold, don't y'think?" Graves walked up to you, hands in his pocket. "Yeah, little cold," you respond.

"Dad almost out?" he asks, standing next to you. "Yeah, he should be out soon." He noticed you had chills from the cold wind, "Here, take my hoodie." He removes it and hands it to you. "Thanks," you put it on and smile at him. "No problem."

As you waited for your dad, you and him talked. It was strange, to see him like this. When no one was around, he was so soft and sweet, and always knew what to say to make you blush. To be honest? He enjoyed that time with you, made him feel more human than a soldier like he could ever feel.

As Graves went back out from his lunch with the guys, he noticed his hoodie was on the floor, the same one he lent you last night. "Fuck." He whispers and picks it up. Smells like you and him. You probably heard it all.

"Have you seen R/N?" He asked almost all the soldiers near him. All either asking him if he was going for 'round 2' or if your dad was okay. Once he saw you walk into the women's bathroom, he understood that he just had to give you space. For 20 minutes he waited outside, not letting the other female soldiers in, 'maintenance' was his excuse. You cried, washed your face and walked back out, pretending you weren't just crying over him.

"R/N?" His voice was soft, full of regret and some hope. "Leave me alone." You began to walk towards your dad's office, your excuse was 'Mum will need me for dinner and I have to go now.'

"It wasn't just a bet, R/N. You have to let me explain." He was desperate, that is for sure. You continued walking and he kept up with your pace. Once he knew no one was around, he pulled your arm so you could stop walking. "You don't get it, okay? I like you, I really do and those guys-"

"You used me for a stupid bet, Graves! Who does that?" You interrupt his lame excuse. "Please, hun. I care so much for you- I was just playing pretend with them. If they know I have a soft spot, someone that makes me happy, excited and so damn cheesy they'd make fun of me."

"Are you embarrassed by me?"

"No, no no no...I'm actually proud you chose me. You are this smart, skilled, so funny and beautiful girl and I...I don't know why I took the bet, I really don't." He sighs, his head hands low until he looks at you.

"You are my weakness and if this got out, gosh hun I...they would hurt you, people that hate me would hurt you. Can't you see I'm dying here for you to understand?" So desperate but full of truth.

Your eyes are teary once more. "Why did you take that bet?"

"Because I am a dick. A selfless man at first but then I got to know you, how I began to understand who you are as a person, this amazing soul and the girl I seriously want to date and live my life with."

All the nights when he and your dad would talk and laugh at stupid jokes. How he sat in the armchair and your dad next to him in his. Impressing him, making plans so you and him would spend Christmas with your family. The wink or look he would give you when he sipped coffee.

"I mean it, what I said that night as you trusted me with your body. How I worship you, the way I kissed your body, how good it felt to be held by you as I made you mine over and over. Don't you remember? Our bodies radiating the love we felt, please hun, just please listen to me. It was not just a bet for me, it was and is the best moment of my life." He got closer, hands holding yours. "Please give me a chance to prove I love you."

Three words that to this day, as you walk down the aisle to him hold onto. And he did prove it, ever since then he has proved how much he loves you. Not everything was dead like he thought because not everything was a bet.

Tags: @casimodull

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honkytonk-hangman · 3 months

Text

Just Another Thing – [1]

Walt 'Finn' Finnegan x Reader/OC

Summary: God help anyone who might've thought a nice, stable relationship might bring some kind of change to Walt Finnegan's usual mischief and mild-hedonism. God especially help them if they also thought a girlfriend would provide any sort of calming influence over him.

She definitely influenced him, anyone could tell you that, unfortunately just never in any way that could even remotely be described as 'calm'.

Warnings: cussing, mentions of and talk of sex, sexy body parts, ect. reader/OC is named Kimberly/Kimber, but it is still written in second person and her name shouldn't come up very often.

Notes: oh boy oh boy oh boy you have no clue how excited i am for this fic. it's literally been in the works for over a year. i'd even go as far as to say it's my fave fic in recent memory!!! Im not sure yet how many parts, but the story does have a beginning and end.

It's not necessary to have watched the film before reading this fic, as this is set in the year after, around 1982, however certain character dynamics could be confusing. Also i definitely headcanon Finn and Beverly becoming good friends, hidden beneath a layer of exasperation of course but he is definitely the type to go to all the theatre stuff like come on look at him!!!!!

okay enough from me now heres the fic I really hope you enjoy!!!

You register the alarm on your friends’ face’s far too late to do anything, and the next thing you know you’re clutching the crown of your head, a dull throbbing ache now pulsing under your fingertips.

It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar sensation, you’ve been hit in the head by a ball plenty of times, but the sheer weight behind this particular impact stood out to you. That, and you knew it couldn’t have been the volleyball you and your friend’s were playing with, because you currently held it.

“What the fu–” you begin angrily, already whipping around in the direction you’d been hit, cutting yourself off at the sight of an approaching man, a look of genuine remorse painted on his features as he jogs toward you. Behind him, a group of guys with baseball gloves watch on with various cringing expressions. Just as the man nears you, his eyes subtly travel up and down your figure, his lip quirking with approval, but he keeps his face apologetic. He comes to a stop several feet away, where the baseball had landed, but doesn’t take his eyes off of you, placing his hands on his hips and lifting his chin at you.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he says, and it at least sounds sincere. “Roper’s never had much of an eye.”

You purse your lips, but try not to look too angry. He was cute, you realise dumbly, still rubbing your head. Dirty blond hair settled in light waves at the top of his collar, a matching blond moustache groomed neatly above his upper lip. He was tall, broad across the shoulders and chest in a way you’d only ever really seen on guys who worked out, athletes and the like. He also looked a little older than a lot of the students you’d see walking around campus, and he certainly didn’t approach you with the confidence of a freshman, so you figure he must be at least an upperclassmen.

“Well, maybe y'all should work on that with him,” you grumble lightly, and drop your hand.

“You okay?” he nods at your head, and you shift to lean on one foot, not missing the flicker of his eyes to watch as you do, or the way he lingers on your rapidly rising and falling chest before he meets your eye again.

“Isn’t the first time, certainly won’t be the last. Hair probably won’t sit right tonight, though,” you complain.

“Big date?” he asks, the teasing tone unmistakable. You lift your chin a little indignantly.

“I’m sure your day is just riding on my answer, but I don’t feel particularly inclined on telling you that,” you huff, heart rate doubling when he laughs, looking away from you for the first time as he grins widely.

“Well, how about this,” he starts once he’s sobered, bending down to swipe the baseball from the grass, taking a step toward you as he does. “The next time I see you, I promise you won’t get hit in the head,” he waves the ball as if you need reminding, but takes another step closer. “And you tell me what night works best to take you out?”

You fail to hide the amused smile that pulls at your lips, but then again, you weren’t really one for playing hard to get. You can see now that he’s only a few feet away, that his eyes are a startling green, and you think you wouldn’t mind running into him again, sans head injury.

“Alright,” you tell him, stepping back with a nod. “Next time.”

It takes all of your will power to turn away from him and move back towards your friends, though you feel his eyes on you for some distance, and make sure you swing your hips just a little more than you usually might.

Part of you regrets not making plans then and there, but the other part of you shivers at the already building tension of your potential next meeting.

Squinting at your reflection in the mirror, you flip your feathery waves once more over your shoulder, before almost immediately letting it fall back where it was. Just as you’d predicted, thanks to the decent-sized lump on the crown of your head, your Jerry Hall blowout was looking less supermodel and more super-odd.

Scrunching your nose as you mess with your tresses one last time, let out a huff, and force yourself to turn away, just in time for Nancy to appear at your open door, her curled fingers tapping gently on the wood.

“Hey Kimber,” she begins, pausing to give you a whistle as you exit your bathroom and do a twirl for her. Your collared halter-neck jumpsuit was supposed to be worn with a ruffle-neck blouse, but you’d never intended to style it that way, not to mention it was tight enough that you’re not totally sure you’d even be able to fit said blouse beneath it anyway.

“Something’s telling me Miss Texas ‘56 didn’t have this particular ensemble in mind when she ordered this for you outta her fancy lil’ Saks catalogue…” Nancy teases. You roll your eyes.

“Saks don’t do catalogues.” you correct her with a faux air of haughtiness, but don’t bother to contend her point. All of your housemates were more than familiar with your former Beauty Queen mother, despite never having met her. The monthly ‘care packages’ she sent you, filled with various ‘in season’ (see: frivolous) items of clothing and ‘essentials’ spoke volumes about who exactly Mrs Charlene Wynne was. That mostly just amounting to ‘eternally neurotic but well-meaning’.

Nancy pokes her tongue out at you and scoffs out a laugh.

“Whatever, the point is; Mama doesn't always know best. You look foxy!”

You let out a laugh and smooth your hands over your thighs, thanking her softly.

You weren’t at all oblivious to the way you looked. Certainly you were no Raquel Welch, but most days you could manage something in the realm of Christie Brinkley or Cheryl Ladd, which was pretty damn good. You had your mother to thank for that, though your dad was no slouch either, but considering your mother couldn’t walk ten steps without someone recognising her from her Miss Texas win almost thirty years ago, you’ll give her most of the credit. As a result of your parent’s contributions, you’d become aware fairly quickly of the effect you tended to have on men, especially College men.

“Did you need me for something?” you prompt after a few more moments of Nancy preening over your outfit, remembering that she had come up here with a purpose some minutes ago now. Nancy blinks, before she makes a soft gasping sound, and straightens up.

“That’s right! Beverley arrived a little while ago, she was asking for you!” she informs you, waving her hand in the vague direction of the stairs and the party quickly coming to life on the first floor.

“I’m coming now!” you tell her, giving your hair one last flip before you move for your door, closing it behind you and quickly following Nancy as she all but skips.

The ‘little’ get together had officially started a little while ago, but you’d had a study group that had run long, meaning you were now fashionably late to your own houseparty, if there were even such a thing.

Almost immediately once you crest the lower steps, you feel yourself shift into focus, totally in your element now, a cool, easy smile finding a place on your features. It isn’t difficult for you to move through the light throngs of people, despite your arrival not going unnoticed by those around you, but instead of excusing yourself meekly past distracted conversationalists, you’re liked enough that partygoers both consciously and subconsciously make way for you, plenty of familiar faces greeting you warmly in passing as you go.

You aren't surprised to find the kitchen milling with guests too, though the music is a little quieter here, so you figure it will remain more sparsely populated until later in the night, when everyone is comfortably tipsy.

“Kimberley!” A female voice calls out, perhaps a little too loudly, but you’d come to expect as much from anyone deeply involved in theatre.

“Beverly!” you match her energy, volume and all, knowing that she was likely already feeling a little out of place among the other guests, who were all mostly part of the College’s various sports teams and who you suspect weren’t even aware there even was a theatre program.

You can’t stop yourself from grinning ecstatically, overjoyed to see your friend for the first time since classes had commenced for the year. However, you feel more than you see the redhead that collides with you, her much shorter frame crashing into yours with a comforting force, and thanks to your non incosiderable height, as well as your many years playing volleyball, you hardly even budge from the impact, even in your chunky platform heels. You quickly hug Beverley in return, but far sooner than you’d like, she’s pulling back and launching into what sounds like a planned monologue.

“Okay! So, you know how ages ago I said I was going to set you up with one of Jake’s housemates from the baseball house?” Beverly starts, already waving her hands expressively, her expression bright and excited. You search your mind, but honestly, you aren’t sure if the conversation sounds familiar or not. You’d had a lot of people say similar things to you throughout your college career so far. Most of the time they were totally off-base matches, but you were always happy to experience new things, new people.

Beverley doesn’t wait for your reply though, clapping her hands and rubbing them together.

“Well, of course the team was invited tonight, meaning I can finally introduce you!” she exclaims, looking wildly over her shoulder, as though the person in question was supposed to be just behind her. When she sees an empty kitchen, she frowns and purses her lips. The glimmer of annoyance is wiped from her face by the time she’s looking back at you, and she huffs good-naturedly.

“I told him to wait for me…” she links your arms as she speaks, and you happily let her lead you to the kitchen door, where a light bubble of conversation floats through from outside. You have to let out a laugh at her sheer excitement, which appears genuine, though not in her usual manner.

The usual manner meaning that every so often when the two of you found yourselves at the same club or bar, whenever she or her friend’s were being bothered, the pretty redhead would giddily inform you that she had someone she wanted you to meet, then standing back and watching gleefully as you casually sapped up the creep’s attention, only to bluntly shoot him down and send him off.

You don’t get the feeling this is one of those times, but from what you knew of the baseball team, you very well may have to do some shooing on your own behalf tonight.

Outside on the tiny back-deck, a small group of people had gathered and right away your brain sparks with familiarity, though you have very little time to consider this before Beverley is releasing your arm and stepping forward. She smiles brightly as she sweeps between you and a man who turns around as if on cue.

“Finn, this is Kimberley Wynn! Kimberley, this is Finn! I am almost certain that the two of you will get along famously,” Beverely announces with a flourish and a wink. You and Finn both blink startled at one another for several moments, before mutual recognition quickly sets in. Your lips slowly pull into a wide grin, and you don’t bother hiding the fact that you’re now looking him over with no subtly, just as he’d done to you earlier in the park.

“I’m not about to get clobbered again, am I?” you begin flirtily, glad that the man, Finn, recognises you as well, though unlike you, he seems to avoid taking the opportunity to check you out again, to his loss. Instead, he smiles big, almost showmanly, and takes up a slight lean on the railing behind him.

“If it’s any consolation, your hair looks great,” Finn replies cooly, and it’s almost as though you’d never parted ways at all. You flick your hair over your shoulder, seeing how his eyes follow the movement before they’re locked back on yours and you already know you’ve got this man hook, line and sinker.

“Luckily for you,” you sniff, though your smile undercuts any real resentment. Finn seems to grin a little wider then, more genuinely than the showman smile. You think the way his eyes crinkle in the corners is sweet, and that he should smile that way all the time.

“Wait, you two already know each other?!” Beverley cuts in, suddenly reminding you that she was in fact still standing there, watching and listening. “How?!” the redhead demands, not going so far as to stomp a foot, but she does cross her arms in a huff as she looks between the two of you in betrayed disbelief, though you note most of her ire seems directed at Finn.

The blonde swings his gaze back to the shorter woman, seemingly tickled by her apparent annoyance, yet his teasing expression is full to the brim with endeared fondness. You get the impression that this was the natural state of their friendship, and that Finn is about to say something inflammatory just to get a bigger rise, which might be a little funny, but you cut in before he can speak, relieving Beverly of her confusion.

“All Star over here threw a baseball at my head this afternoon,” you say pointedly, making sure he doesn’t mistake your happiness to see him for forgiveness. Finn holds his hands up then, and jerks a thumb in the direction of a man in the larger group of party goers on the porch.

“Roper threw a baseball at your head this afternoon,” he corrects you, as though that should absolve you of your attitude.

“Oh, that’s right! You just failed to catch it!” you tease, watching as he winces dramatically and grasps at his chest.

“You wound me sweetheart!” he exclaims ruefully, and despite the vaguely amicable antagonism, you can see now why he and Beverly are friends.

“Then we’re even.” You say. You already agree with the redhead’s earlier assessment; the two of you were going to get along famously.

Finn shrugs in a manner that reads more as relenting than indifference, and at least some of his overly performative act comes away. Beverley scoffs a laugh, rolling her eyes heavily as she reaches out to shove Finn in the arm. He sways, you think for her benefit, which makes you smile.

“Only you could throw a baseball that hits the one girl on campus who’d actually put up with you…” she snorts, seemingly assuming his chances with you were now dashed. Finn raises a finger in protest.

“As we just discussed, I only failed to catch the ball that hit the one girl on campus who may or may not be willing to put up with me. I’d like that to go on record.” He smiles at her simperingly. Beverley regards him with a withering look for several seconds, before choosing to ignore him entirely, turning to you.

“Have fun.” she says, sounding much more like her usual manner, though before you can tell her it’s alright, she’s already spun away, and when you find her again, she’s tucking herself under the arm of her boyfriend, Jake.

You shake your head, and look back at Finn, finding his gaze already locked on you. He pushes away from the railing then, and steps toward you.

“You know what this is?” he asks you, once more sounding like an actor reading lines, and gesturing between you. “Fate.” he says, lowering his voice somewhat like it was a secret just for the two of you.

You cock your head at his odd little act, though you aren’t entirely un-charmed by it. It was rather different to when you’d met this afternoon, despite his blatant flirting then, now it was as if you were speaking with a completely different person. A stage magician, perhaps.

“So, why don’t we go get a drink in your hand, and then you can tell me which day works for our upcoming date.” Finn gives a slight flourish, and while his whole demeanour is still clearly put on, there is an endearing element to his theatrics, a silliness that you might find more charming if it didn’t feel so much like he was performing for you.

He offers you his arm graciously, which you can imagine combined with his hyped up charm, would have plenty of women already giggling into their sleeves, which you don’t do, but you do place your other hand over his warm skin as well, and allow him to lead you back into the kitchen.

“So what’ll it be? Beer? Fruity punch? Fruity punch and beer?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and even though he’s still playing a role of some kind, it’s not hard for you to see through it.

“Fruity punch,” you say decisively. “Can’t stand the taste of beer.” You tell him honestly, watching as he goes about procuring you a glass of the punch you yourself had made, and appreciating the effort he puts in to make sure you have at least two cherries, though, you don’t think he means it to be suggestive, despite your own thoughts going straight to the gutter over the matter.

“So, what you’re saying is; I should switch to the punch if I want to test this theory about you being the one girl on campus who’ll put up with me later?” he asks in amusement, at last handing you your drink, his eyes sparkling. You accept the drink and give a noncommittal shrug as you take a small sip.

“Oh, that’s not necessary, but I’ll certainly appreciate it later.” You really feel no need to go along with his act, not seeing any reason to play coy about your intentions, not in the way he seemed to feel was par for the course at least. You watch as Finn takes a moment to actually process your words, a brief mix of surprise and curiosity passing over his features, but it’s quickly covered up by a much more ‘cool’ looking mask.

You have to crack a smile at his sheer determination to convince you to have sex with him, the poor man somehow didn’t realise he was preaching to the choir.

“You really do look fantastic, by the way,” Finn says after a few moments of awkward quiet pass. You push aside your amusement, and grin happily at him, smoothing your hand over the material fondly.

“Thanks! I feel like one of ‘Charlie’s Angels’,” you gush a little, briefly feeling silly for bringing up the comparison, however, this time Finn’s smile makes the corners of his eyes crinkle in that way you liked, making his whole face seem softer and more natural, pouring with warmth.

“Trust me, Farrah’s got nothing on you right now,” he tells you sweetly, continuing to fondly watch you preen, not just at the compliment, but because you think this might be the first time all evening he isn’t speaking from some kind of script.

The moment passes quickly, though, and as you duck your head to accept his praise, you see his face momentarily scrunching up in a wince, like he was scolding himself for saying something so saccharine. You consider telling him that you found the sweetness endlessly more endearing than any of the other lines so far, but you hold your tongue. You had a small feeling that his pretence was really more about him, than about you, at least to a degree.

Finn is about halfway through earnestly telling you about his apparently ‘average’ sized cock when you at last run out of patience. The gimmick itself was entertaining enough, definitely an original approach to picking up women, and you’d even played along to start with, but you can’t help wondering why you’re standing around talking about his cock when you could be doing other things with it instead.

While he’s still talking, you reach into your pocket and dig around for a moment, before you find what you’re after. Finn trails off when you turn and lay the coin face-side up on his forearm. He blinks at it in confusion, for a few seconds, before looking questioningly up at you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask before he can speak again, and force yourself not to pump your fist triumphantly when his confusion is quickly replaced with affection. Sure, you knew he wanted to have sex with you already, but now he thought you were cute, too.

“Alright,” he answers simply, fully angling his body toward yours, leaning in closer to you at the same time.

“So, this whole ‘average sized cock’ thing, does it actually work? I mean, has it worked when you’ve used it before?” you tip your head up at him, genuinely curious, but you don’t miss the way Finn’s features fall blank for a second after you speak, his smile fading, replaced with mild discomfort. He seems to shift back from you slightly, regarding you once more before he replies.

“I guess this is the time it doesn’t.” He all but mutters, his frown deepening as he looks away from you again, clearing his throat this time and straightening up, obviously embarrassed. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks back at you evenly.

“Could’ve stopped me earlier,” he says a little stiffly, though seemingly coming to terms with whatever direction he now thought this conversation was taking. You can’t help yourself then, his sulking making you laugh, fully and joyfully, but before he can sulk further, you lay your hand gently on his arm, over the penny, and give him a light squeeze. You shake your head as your laughter dies down, and fix him with a warm expression

“I never said it wasn’t working– in a manner of speaking,” You softly tell him, watching as he blinks down at you. You hurry to explain. “I mean don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t working, but only because it’s totally unbelievable.”

Finn at last relaxes somewhat, though his slight frown remains as he considers your complaint.

“What’s so unbelievable about it?” he demands, in a way that tells you this pick-up tactic was one he was proud of, though clear playfulness had returned to his voice.

Confident that you were now talking, actually talking to Finn as he was, and not as he thought would get him laid, you feel energised to engage with the subject matter more seriously. You scoff and roll your eyes at his indignation.

“Firstly,” you start, shifting to lean on your hip, bringing you closer once again. “No guy is ever going to accept, let alone admit that he has an average sized-cock, and he’s definitely not going to admit it to a woman he wants to fuck.” You say matter-of-factly, though you didn’t have anything more than your not-insubstantial intimate experiences with men to go off of as proof.

“Guys who really are average, don’t think that they are, and they probably never will because no woman is going to bring up the fact that his seven inch cock looks suspiciously closer to five.” you wave your hands a little, not realising before now that you really had any firm opinions on this subject.

You see the cogs in Finn’s brain turning as he regards your words with something that resembles amused but genuine interest. You figure he hadn’t expected you to really have a point, which to be fair, you hadn’t expected either. You do plan to let him respond, but you suddenly remember something else you’d been thinking about earlier, when he’d first brought up the concept.

“–And! In my experience, guys who do have big cocks, they don’t really say anything, or they mislead you entirely, so that they can get off on hearing you telling him how big he is.”

That earns a hearty laugh from Finn, who shrugs a shoulder in admittance at that point at the very least. He’d returned at last to watching you fondly, and you think once more that Beverley had been spot on in introducing the two of you. You’re pretty sure Finn is the only man who would so happily, or nonchalantly debate with you about the size of other men’s cocks, just as you’re sure that you’re the only woman on campus who has ever challenged him on it.

Finn hums in thought. “So, you believe men will only ever overcompensate or undercompensate?” he asks, but it's more of a statement. He watches you intently as he tips his chin, and you nod.

“Exactly.”

A moment passes between the two of you, before Finn leans forward, right into your space, wearing a pleased smirk.

“In that case honey,” he starts, voice sounding a little deeper now, huskier somehow. “What’s the verdict then?” he stares at you unwaveringly, challenging you. You frown.

“The verdict on what?” you ask, though at this point you couldn’t muster much genuine interest, not when all this verbal foreplay was slowing down the process of getting him in your bedroom for some actual foreplay.

Finn’s smirk grows then, seemingly glad you’d asked. You watch as his eyes dip briefly down to your chest, where his height and closeness grant him a very good view of your tits. He meets your gaze again before he speaks.

“Do you think I’m overcompensating, or undercompensating?”

You blink and stare at him as you process, not even bothering to hide your captivation, but it lasts for mere seconds before your lips are curling into a coy smile to match his own. You copy his move then, dropping your eyes to take in the front of his jeans, but you don’t look back up again as he had. Instead, you reach out and begin tracing his belt buckle. Finn inhales sharply, clearly taken off guard by your forwardness, which was clearly working for him.

You’re momentarily distracted from his belt as you catch sight of the rather sizable bulge forming at the front of his pants, giving you a pretty good idea of what the verdict should be. You lick your lips without really thinking, but take full advantage of the way Finn’s eyes follow the movement, tracing the path over your now wet mouth as he awaits your answer. You lean in, closing the miniscule distance between you at last, and give his belt a teasing little tug toward you.

“Y’know, I haven’t a clue,” you lie nonchalantly, your smile only growing when you use his belt to pull yourself in and press right up against his front. “But I’d love to find out.”

#everybody wants some!!#walt finn finnegan #finnegan x reader #walt finnegan x reader #idk what to tag ethis even

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azulashengrottospiano · 6 months

Note

I am LOOKING,, at Zero on the right 😳

And yes!! The Berlin trip was exhausting, but it was really fun! And aaa I’m glad you liked the song! ^w^ It’s really catchy to me

As I’ve mentioned, I did a little wedding thing for some TWST characters 👀 So for some context, the reader/you are going to go to a large family wedding that’s coming up. Which also means extended relatives! You didn’t want to go out alone, so you decided to invite your friend as a plus-one. This is mainly platonic, but reader/you and the characters are implied to have some Feelings™ for each other,, 👀 👉👈 [The mini headcanons may be a bit messy- I hope you don’t mind!!]

~~~

Vil Schoenheit (HE MAY SEEM KINDA OOC HERE I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE,,)

-Congratulations! You’ve just gotten the biggest family flex of the century! Bragging rights forever!!

-He helps you with dressing up and styling your hair-

-You’re interrogated the second you step into the venue because holy sh*t is that the Vil Schoenheit??

-Vil will excuse both of you if he notices you’re getting overwhelmed by the barrage of questions. He’s had his fair share of social conventions and he knows his way around them

-Seeing how he’s so popular, there’s a pretty good chance that he also gets barraged with questions by the guests- And though he’s used to that sort of thing, you manage to break him away from the busy atmosphere and take him on a walk through the rose garden outside to get some fresh air

-The peaceful and quiet atmosphere is really nice, so you stay out there for a while. Unfortunately, you two do loose track of time because while you’re out there, the fireworks display began to start. Though you say you should go back and join the others, Vil convinces you to stay in the garden with him, and he pulls you down to sit with him on a bench, seeing the fireworks go off in the sky. The two of you could still see the fireworks just fine, no?

-“What a beautiful sight,” you say watching the night sky pop with colourful fireworks.

-Vil glances at you, and he saw how the colours reflected in your eyes. “Yes,” he said, “it is.”

Trey Clover

-One of the best people to have as a plus-one and meet the family to be honest

-His polite, caring charisma and dashing looks are a deadly combination

-He’s open to chatting with anyone, and he shares recipes and baking tips!

-You two get different desserts and you compare each other’s

-“This is really good, you have to try it!” And he holds out his spoon to feed you some of his dessert

-I don’t know why, but I love the image of him analysing each dessert like he’s some pâtissier Gordon Ramsay. He’s more of a Paul Hollywood though

-Kind of a bad dancer but that adds to his charm 🤌

-I can see him hanging out with the grandparents… They’d love him, let’s be honest. They’d pat you on the back and nod in approval for finding such a nice young man. You have to tell them you’re not dating

-“You’re not dating yet, you mean!” Your grandma says.

-“Grandma, no-“

-I can see Cater hyping him up through text messages kfjgnb

Cater Diamond

-TAKES SO MANY PHOTOS. SO MANY SELFIES. SO MANY PICTURES OF THE DECOR, THE SCENERY, YOU, EVERYTHING

-“Wait, let me take one more picture—“ Proceeds to take fifty more

-Also asks you to take some photos of him too so he can upload them to Magicam. He’s uploading them in real time

-Just imagine the hashtags he’d make

-Pretty fun date overall! Probably hasn’t been to a wedding before so he’s pretty excited

-Social butterfly, and by the end of the wedding, he’s probably met your entire extended family kjfkjhbd

-There was a glitter bar and he was ECSTATIC,, He asks you if you want to get some glitter makeup with him and now both your faces are bedazzled with glitter

-Fun dancer! Probably in a lot of dancing candid shots

-Though, he does manage to snag a photo of you dancing wholeheartedly and having the brightest grin on your face as an upbeat love song plays, the coloured lights catching in your hair,, he’ll keep this one photo private

Azul Ashengrotto

-Wants to make a good impression on your family, so he makes you give him a PowerPoint slideshow presentation on your family members—

-Not a bad date! He gets along well with your family

-Probably manages to overhear all the juicy family gossip and is living for it

-The bride ended up tossing the bouquet way too far and Azul ended up catching it. Now all the uncles are patting him on the shoulder saying congratulations and now he’s trying to hide his embarrassment because he knows exactly what they’re insinuating

-Ngl, he’d probably advertise the Mostro Lounge,, networking king honestly

-The bride and groom wanted one last private dance and as the others were preparing for the send-off, you and Azul have a little dance of your own, listening to the music drifting out of the open windows

-It was a little bit of a surprise for you; Azul didn’t strike you as much of a dancer but he was doing pretty well (He may or may not have practiced a lot-)

-It’s honestly a pretty tender moment; you follow his lead while you lay your head against his shoulder while he gazes at you so softly

Jade Leech

-Surprisingly eager to agree?? He’s curious to see how humans on land celebrate weddings, and it’s an opportunity to spend time with you, so win-win

-There was a DIY mocktail bar and Jade had the audacity to make you a drink with the most wack combination of ingredients you’ve ever heard. Why are you smiling while offering a drink infused with watermelon and cayenne pepper. Jade? Jade—

-Your aunts are charmed with Jade, and they ask you why weren’t you dating such a polite young man?? He’s enjoying every second of your embarrassment

-Fans the flames like “Yes (Name), why aren’t we dating?”

-Pretty chill on the dance floor and mostly just sways along to the music tbh

-How did he get in all the important family photos

-He got a personal invite to the next family gathering and had the sheer audacity to invite you as his plus-one

Jamil Viper

-A bit nervous about having to leave Kalim, but you both manage to convince him it’ll be fine. It’s just for a few hours!

-He absolutely tears it up on the dance floor. It’s his dance floor and we’re all just dancing on it

-You and him are also in a lot of candid shots dancing together!

-Gets along well with your family and the other guests (And tries so hard to not be passive-aggressive to your mean relatives. Whether he succeeds or not is up for debate)

-Although, the ceremony was to take place outside, and that meant bugs. So, as the bride was saying her vows, a roach landed on Jamil’s knee, and you were the first one to notice. You could feel the sweat sliding down the back of your neck as the bug casually crawled around. By some absolute miracle, Jamil didn’t notice it yet

-“Jamil,” you whisper just as the guests applauded the newlyweds kissing.

-“Yeah?”

-“I need you to trust me and not look down.”

-Jamil, currently living in blissful ignorance, is confused, but says “sure?” He’s suspicious now. You need to be quick.

-As the guests are walking away, you slap the bug off his knee and he screams bloody murder at the sudden sight of the bug flying in front of his face

-RIP Jamil he can’t catch a break

-Aside from that though, pretty chill time!

Kalim Al-Asim

-Very excited to go with you to the wedding!!

-Even though you insist he doesn’t have to, he gets the newlyweds so. Many. Gifts. And they’re all expensive too; it’s to the point where the bride and groom genuinely consider giving some back kjfngb- Kalim assures them it’s fine though!!

-Gets along great with the young kids there! The flower girl asked him to dance and now all the kids want to dance with him fgjnbg

-You have to pull him away from them so he can finally get some food fkgjnb

-Sucks for you because they still follow him around like an entourage. You just stand there like "🧍‍♂️"

-Another fun dancer and very social! He’s a fun date tbh

-After the wedding was finished and all the guests were sent away, you two were still hungry, so you did some Mac and cheese at home

-He says he had a great time and hopes he’ll get invited to the next family outing!

~~~

I hope you enjoyed this! I hope no one seems super OOC or anything fghjnfb- (Also happy birthday to Zero! :D)

Jackdaw Anon 🐦

ISNT HE GORGEOUS? UGH I ADORE HIM. I CANT WIAT TO PLAY HIS ROUTE!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAA WAIT I LOVE PLUS ONE TROPES THEYRE MY FAVORITE?!?!??!?!?!?! U INCLUDED TREY AND VIL AND AZUL!??!?!?! IMF OAMING AT THE MOUTH

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA VILS WAS SO CUTE .... IT WASNT OOC AT ALL HE WOULD BE THAT SWEET AND GENTLE. SCREAMING. AAAAAAA IM SUCH A SUCKER FOR THE "ah yes beautiful sight *STARING RIGHT AT YOU* TROPES"

DAMN RIGHT GRANDPARENTS WE ARENT DATING YET!!!!! YET!!!!!!! TREY ITS YOUR FAMILY NEXT. WE ARE VISITING THEM.

AAAAAAAAAAAA CATER KEEPING TAHT ONE PICTURE PRIVATE IM GIGGLING AND SHEIRKING AHSFDJAHSFDHAGSFDHAGSFDHASGFDXHAGSFDHAGSFDHAGSGFD THATS SO CUTE YOUVE KILLED ME

azul would one hundred percent network at someones else wedding omg. ALSO THE BOUQUET PART?!?!?! IM FUCKING DEAD!??!?!?! WE SHOULD GET MARRIED AGAIN FR COME HERE POOKIEEEEE I LVOE YOU

"why arent we dating?" BECAUSE YOU HAVENT ASKED ME OUT YET YOURE TOO BUSY DEFLECTING JASHFDJASGFD also him getting his own invite to the next social is so real that would happen hes so sneaky JHASFDHAHSFGD

NOOOOO NOT YOU PUTTINGA ROACH ON HIS KNEE AJSHFDHAGSD JACKDAW ANON WHY WOULD YOU DO JAMIL LIKE THAT HELP NE &!@^$@!^#^%$!#@

KALIMS PART IS LITERALLY SO SWEET. YORUE RIGHT HE WOULD BE THE FUNNEEST DATE EVER (except for my networking bf but that sjust me <3)

I ENJOYE DTHIS SO MUCH AND THANK YOU FOR REMEMBERING ZERO'S BIRTHDAY <3333 I ADORE HIM

#jackdaw anon <3 #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #trey clover #cater diamond #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #jamil viper #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit x reader #cater diamond x reader #trey clover x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader #jade leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader

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