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guav · 2 years

Note

Hiii!!! Can I request a girlfriend Rindou reader, where Tenjiku doesn't even know he has a girlfriend like Ran doesn't even know, and so she meets Tenjiku, and she can fight really really good and she's like PRETTY PRETTY and like how...? Did RINDOU EVEN GET HER? And she stars to catch other members eyes ;)

ᥫ᭡ for haitani rindou and tenjiku, WAREHOUSE ROMCOM.

in which you insist on meeting your boyfriend's current gang and fuck, you definitely just knocked out one of their captains.

𔘓 it's my first time writing for some of these guys so i'm sorry if they're ooc D: you used she/her and mentioned girlfriend so i'll be using those for this fic :] around 3.1k words of chaos.

“rin, how come i’ve never met any of your friends?”

the timing doesn’t allow for a deep conversation. rindou’s too busy messing with his laptop, one earbud immersing him in whatever program was running. meanwhile, a catalog resting on your lap took half your attention.

as expected, the question is around the fifth priority in rindou’s head. “buncha smelly thugs, you wouldn’t like ‘em.”

“and you’re not in that demographic?” you idly munch on some snacks you scavenged from his pantry.

“no, i’m not.” rindou scoffs like you just spat on his entire bloodline. “i’m your handsome boyfriend who you love very, very much.”

oh, this sweater has a really nice discount. “what about your brother? i've never seen him either, i’m starting to think you’re actually an only child.”

he’s gonna pretend like his comment going ignored didn’t sting a little.

“you should be grateful, once you meet ran you’ll be cursed with a killer headache for the rest of your life.”

somehow it doesn’t seem as bad, nor does it deter you in the slightest. whine all he wants, rindou loves his brother. he knows it, and so do you.

“rinnie.” a vein could very well pop out his head at the dumb nickname. “are you embarrassed of me?”

(you know rindou would kiss the floor you walk on. still? good leverage).

his typing halts, left earbud joining the right to hang around his neck. a thousand times of the same coercion tactics should have prepared him better. should have. be as it may, rindou’s heartbeat stops for a minute.

you’re the one good thing he’s got going on, why would he ne embarrassed of you? no, never, he loves you too much.

not like he’d willingly admit to it, though. “a little” his typing resumes, this time a little more attentive to the situation. safety measures and all that.

seems he’s not budging. the playful banter turns into a bitter taste in your mouth. “rude.”

rindou doesn’t like your sudden silence. it cuts at his facade like the dullest of knives—painfully slow.

he can’t win against you. if there's one more thing he hates more than sweaty gym equipment is getting on your bad side.

“i’m not embarrassed, you’re just too pretty for them.” it’s not a lie.

“flattery won’t save you from sleeping on the couch.”

he’s in his own home, it's his couch and bed. “if i take you to meet them once,” rindou emphasizes the word, “will you be pleased?”

you would, “a little.”

works for him.

rindou groans like the sore loser he is, yet hands you an earbud. “whatever, don’t come cryin’ when you realize they're actually lame."

secretly, he prays you don't like them better than him.

"they're your friends—or gang, i'm guessing—i would never think bad of them."

aren't you just a godsend? rindou breathes a chuckle, pressing play. whatever wrinkles remained on his face washed away when you bobbed your head to his mix. he forgives you for being a pain in his ass.

everything’s fair in love and war; you came and conquered with ease. as implicit as he fights to keep it, rindou's a big softie for you.

you lean over to kiss his temple, maybe you’ll buy that sweater you saw for this special occasion.

just this once, punctuality would be the death of you.

the only street light a couple meters away flickers every two minutes, you’ve got no service, and the run-down warehouse you’re leaning on is the shadiest spot rindou’s asked you to meet at. seriously, what’s his issue?

“little late for someone like you to be out alone, isn’t it?” couldn’t have said it better, voice you've never heard before.

..wait.

with a gulp, you turn to meet whoever was talking to you. it’s not the least comforting when you have to look up to see his face. tall, weird eyebrows, and overall menacing.

for once in your goddamn life, think!

“yeah—i mean, it must suck to be alone in the dead of night.” you laugh nervously, as if to quell the goosebumps rising in your arms. “not me though, nope.”

mochi squints his eyes. you can’t be serious, right? there’s no one else in the entire block. “‘s that so?”

one gulp to hush your anxiety. “yup, my boyfriend’s waiting for me, if i don’t show he’ll come looking,” great, now you’re shaking.

he’s not gonna buy it. this is the end, death by two hands the size of your head. truly tragic.

“only a shitty boyfriend would leave you all alone like this,” he huffs. it’s true, part of him wants to wait and chew out whoever this man is.

safe to say, you have to agree. rindou is a dead man as soon as he shows his face, and it won’t be at the hands of this monster of a guy.

blame it on your current hyperfocus on every little thing (something’s gotta make up for your obvious lack of fight or flight) you can’t help but notice he’s wearing all red—is that a gang uniform?

funny how hope goes out as quick as that.

rindou’s uniform is most definitely not red. the fight bound to unleash is already brewing inside your mind, you’re not even sure if rindou can take a hit from this guy. if he ever gets here, only one of these two would walk away.

you have to act, fast.

“it’s not safe, what’s a thing like you gonna do if—”

he makes the mistake of looking into your eyes. they’re wide, like a deer caught in headlights; innocent.

mochizuki’s second mistake is not noticing the right hook you swing.

the light flickers again, and one of tenjiku’s heavenly kings falls unconscious.

it goes without saying you fucking panic.

“i didn't mean to—shit!” you’re kneeling beside his body, checking for pulse. of course there's still a pulse, there’s no way you could actually kill a guy like that. “i’m so, so sorry.”

he didn’t even try to hurt you. are you the monster here?

initially, you were worried rindou would be the one to start a fight if he saw you cornered by the guy. never would you have thought the culprit would be none other than yourself.

quickly, your sweater becomes a makeshift pillow—the least you could do for knocking the living daylights out of him. though you do cringe when the brand-new fabric soaks up all the dirt on the ground.

it’s okay, surely once he wakes again you can explain you didn’t mean to hit him. you were aiming for… a fly? a mosquito? those can carry deadly diseases. sure, let’s go with that.

kakucho doesn’t know what he just walked into.

there’s a stranger kneeling beside mochi whispering in a fret to herself, something about the last recorded case of dengue fever in japan. right, he was also unconscious.

soon, you notice him too. particularly his red uniform.

there’s a brief pause in which you just stare at each other.

come to think of it, you’d probably kick the bucket in these clothes, and you wouldn’t mind. dying with these on would be something you can live with—or die, rather? idioms are dumb. point is, you picked a really nice outfit for your supposed date with rindou.

rindou haitani, who somehow managed to be late enough to miss you picking a fight with another gang member.

the silence is deadly.

“you’re… his friend, right?” cautiously, you’re the one to break it. “i figured he'd appreciate a pillow to enjoy his nap.”

so why was his cheek painted a raging red? god, that’s a nasty bruise.

kakucho blinks twice. then, he looks around, trying to discern any other lifeform in close vicinity. any possible culprit. anything to explain what the fuck is going on.

“are you alone?” the question is courtesy, he already knows the answer.

“no.” maybe he didn’t know after all.

he narrows his eyes, and you rush to fix whatever mistake you made. “my boyfriend—and friends, so many friends, are waiting on me. they’ll know if i don’t show up.”

you’re nervous. kakucho steps closer, and you’re quick to jump on your feet. “you’re right, i should probably go—”

“did you do this?”

“do what?”

as if it wasn’t obvious, he waves his arm at his fallen friend. “this.”

it’s been a long night. you’re frustrated, terrified out of your goddamn mind, and you can’t help the panic tears that start to form.

“i’m so sorry!” you bow, trying to hold back from outright sobbing in front of the delinquent. “he—i was alone, and he came around and-and started talking to me and i just, i got scared!”

kakucho blinks, again.

“i didn’t mean to hurt him, i’m sure he’s a great guy, i was just jumpy, and fuck i didn't mean to cause any trouble.”

tears run down your cheeks, mourning both your sweater as a breeze rolls by and your wasted last moments of youth. great, you’re making it awkward.

sometimes instincts take over, and kakucho is unsure why he’s shrugging off his tenjiku coat. neither does he have an answer as to why he reached to drape it over your shoulders.

“c’mon, just breathe.”

you do. you take a deep, deep breath, and your problems start to lessen. not actually though, the other gang member is still very much on the ground. however, it's nice not feeling in immediate danger anymore.

kakucho settles down next to mochi, and pats the ground next to him. “sit.”

last thing he tasked you ended up helping, so you decide to listen once more. a respectable distance away from him, you sit.

he’s not sure where to start. there’s so many questions he needs the answer to.

(how did you take out mochi? how did you know the exact warehouse where the higher-ups were meeting tonight?)

but he keeps quiet.

either way, any explanations coming from you would be interrupted by hiccuping, and he didn’t want to risk any more crying from you.

“am i in trouble?”

the answer should be obvious. kakucho knows you’re aware of the mess you’re in now. still, there must be something missing. “i can count with one hand the people who’ve been able to take mochi out.”

so that’s his name. your gaze lands on him, peacefully resting. it’s a nice name.

“so i need you to be honest,” kakucho tries his best to speak gently. “did you do this?”

he takes in a sharp breath when you nod.

“...how?”

the strained chuckle that leaves your lips makes his heart skip a beat or two. “i just, y’know, hit him.”

“but, how?” the mere thought is baffling to him.

“i can show you if you want.” you bite back. it’s playful. now you can cross-out befriending a random delinquent from your bucket list.

“never thought i’d see kakucho flirting.” a new voice enters the array. “didn’t know he had it in him.”

white hair flows freely, unfazed by the unresponsive commander beside the two. his presence exudes commands without diction. explain, now.

kakucho’s posture stiffens, and he’s quick to get back on his feet. “i arrived and mochi was knocked out, seemingly by,” he pauses to look at you. “uh, what’s your name?”

you match his movements, standing up and completely ignoring his question. “i’m really sorry about that, i didn’t know he was—”

izana interrupts the meaningless spiel, “your name, what is it?"

shivers crawl up your spine. a phantom would be more merciful with the frighten. so you answer his question.

and just like that, poor mochi is forgotten. "i like your name, it's nice on the ears."

you know better than to grimace at the compliment (was it really?) "i should get going, i don't want to be in your hair any longer."

izana follows your every movement with violet eyes. not a word is uttered, just a plastered, quite unsettling smile on his face as acknowledgment.

right, your idiot boyfriend. one quick glance at the no signal on your phone serves as a reminder you're stranded.

a jingle brings you back to reality. it's izana, tilting his head. "what's wrong?"

well, you're certain all trains back home stopped doing rounds about half an hour ago, and there’s no way you can catch a ride from either of these two.

(the guy with the scar would probably do it, he seems kind. the urge to squish his cheeks like a grandma would is intense.)

"actually," an awkward laugh makes up for the nerves rattling within. "i.. can't leave, not yet."

his patience is wearing thin, you presume. "is that so?"

from behind you, kakucho shifts. would they even go for a one on two? when you're the one wearing heels?

"i told kakucho—" you glance back to confirm you remembered his name correctly, biting back a smile when he looks surprised. "—i was waiting for my friends and boyfriend, specifically at this exact, dirty warehouse."

izana doesn't look satisfied.

"half of that was a lie, it's just my boyfriend i'm supposed to meet." this doesn't seem to be getting any better.

he's thinking about something.

"i know i shouldn't have lied, but it's basic street smarts! can't blame me for that."

he steps closer, seemingly having resolved whatever idea was brewing in his head.

you're close to going on another rant on street safety, or maybe going for another swing, but izana makes you stop dead in your tracks. "do you wanna be kakucho's girlfriend?"

smelly thugs was cutting it short, this guy was bizarre as fuck.

kakucho is grateful you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. tenjiku’s number two, overwhelmed with a barrage of embarrassment and murderous tendencies for his one and only king.

(was he that obvious? were his fleeting glances that easy to notice?)

izana on the other hand had only just begun his career as a salesman. “kakucho here is a great guy—the definition of a gentleman and a picture-perfect servant.”

odd way of selling someone for a boyfriend. you’d have a few pointers and even additions to his pitch, except you literally have a boyfriend, and you’ve told him so.

you check for the hour. maybe you’ll consider his proposal if kakucho isn’t horrid with meeting on time. “go on.”

two heavenly kings have yet to show their faces, another is knocked out, and the last is close to digging himself an early grave.

“so you’ll date kakucho then?”

has he heard a single word you’ve spoken? “i have a boyfriend.”

“it’s a yes or no question, preferably yes or yes.”

it’s better if you ignore the vague implication of a threat behind his statement. “rain check?”

that seems to please him. “i’m izana,” he offers his hand for a handshake. “pleasure doing business with you.”

“cool.” you’re absolutely sure he’s missing a screw in his head, but it’s funny.

“too late to join the roster?” to absolutely no one’s surprise, it’s a new voice joining this sick joke of a night. you’re amazed at the fact four men have managed to show up unannounced to your date, and none are the one you're actually going out with.

izana turns to meet the new addition, eyebrow raising at the fact it’s only half the duo.

“he’s finding a spot to park, sent me to check on that one over there.” one hand points to you, the other toys with a dual-colored braid.

he’s clad in a black uniform—just like rindou’s. everything's even more confusing now, hurray you!

kakucho, who’s more than grateful to leave the past conversation behind, begins to process the situation. “you know ran?”

“ran?” puzzle pieces are slowly coming together. “as in haitani? ran haitani?”

the man himself lets out a low whistle. “sorry man, only been here for at least half a minute and i’m already takin' the spotlight—nothing personal.”

that’s not how you meant it at all. “no-”

“kakucho gave her his jacket.” izana you are not helping.

“that has nothing to do with this.” kakucho pleads to everything under the sun for his boss to just, shut up. just this once.

“ran, where’s ri-”

“see? already reeling back to me, i think i've got more game than you.” rindou was right, he’s a living headache.

izana tugs at your blouse. “you already said yes on kakucho, no take backs.”

“that never happened.” kakucho, angel on earth, everyone.

something boils from within. "i have a boyfriend."

“you’re too pretty for him.” he blurts without an ounce of hesitation in his body. it’s amusing how ran said the same thing as rindou—they really are family. still, no. does he even know you're dating his brother?

the situation is getting out of hand, your patience is being tested, and you just want to go home at this point.

at this rate you’re sending ran home with half his braids in your fist, izana is getting his arm put in a cast if he utters another word, and kakucho is getting his jacket back and a pat on the head.

there are a few reasons you’re dating rindou haitani. among the perks lies the telepathic bond you two have—whatever you think, rindou is already doing. which is exactly why ran is suddenly getting his braid damn near ripped out by gloved hands.

“wanna say that again?” rindou holds the hair tightly in a fist, he’s fuming. “c'mon, don’t pussy out now.”

the three of you gawk at the scene. kakucho and you in shock, izana in awe. the man of the hour arrived, and everything took a turn for the worse.

the youngest haitani has always followed his older brother like a best friend and inspiration. it’s a relationship based on respect for the other and no one else. sure, they have disagreements, but rindou admires no one more than ran.

the haitani brothers, joined at the hip by crime and blood, now tearing each other apart in the pettiest of ways.

ran, tallest, oldest, arguably strongest, hisses in pain by the harsh tugging. “why dontcha rip it out while y’re fucking at it? whatever got into you?”

izana pokes a finger into your side for the second time. “you know rindou?”

your eyes are glued on the brothers. ran keeps whining, rindou is professing his undying and very much ongoing love for you. “yeah, we’re dating.”

a pause. a long one at that.

“...why?” he sounds puzzled.

rindou screams insults at ran and soon drags his hair-stylist through the mud too, for some reason. “what do you mean by that?”

izana blinks at you like the answer is obvious. “is he like, forcing you or something?”

“what?”

kakucho, who’s been silently witnessing the convo fights to stifle his laughter. it’s of no use, not when you’re throwing his jacket back at his face to shush him. it’s a strong throw, sending him backwards a step or two.

izana thinks you’re funny, too. “you are too pretty for him.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀navi.⠀＆⠀m.list.⠀＆⠀send me an ask!

#ok i had fun writing this one #rindou x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tenjiku x reader #izana x reader #ran x reader #kakucho x reader #rindou haitani #izana kurokawa #kakucho hitto #ran haitani #tokyo rev x reader #tr x reader #tenjiku #ROGUEL1KE #fem reader #female reader

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trashogram · 3 months

Text

He Chose You (Pt. 2)

Lucifer/Reader

Rated E for the smex coming next chapter I SWEAR. ((Also there will not be any non-con in this fic, so please don’t worry. You’ll see when you read.))

Tag Requests: @loslox, @for-hearthand-home, @navierkalani

‘The worst thing they could be are swingers.’

Your heart was racing, and you felt ridiculous for how uppity you felt at the prospect of having dinner with your two elderly neighbors.

Normally, meeting new people would cause a healthy amount of anxiety in you. You’d grown up into a recluse and upholding social niceties took most of your energy. It was even worse to be in their home, and among people that you likely did not have much in common with.

These were personal reassurances that you told yourself after denying the first invitation for dinner with the Farrows. The guilt you felt, paired with the subsequent relief of not having to spend more than five minutes with your chatty neighbor, stirred an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Of course you’d been unable to stop thinking about what a wretch you were, how karma was going to bite you on the ass for denying an old couple some company.

And oh Karma did come back to bite you. Hard.

You felt like you were hanging by a thread at work. Three weeks into the job and you’d already been reprimanded. Even the memory of your supervisor looking down her nose at you from the other side of her desk made your eyes water.

“We have a ‘three strikes’ policy here. I’m afraid this will count as your first.”

Never having been fired from a job notwithstanding, you felt like the idiot your parents always purported you to be.

If you’d have just stayed in your hometown, living off your parents’ good graces and kept your head down, instead of prancing out the door as if you had self-respect and no need for a safety net…

Maybe things wouldn’t be so dire.

Maybe you wouldn’t be on the verge of having a panic attack at this very moment, feeling the anxiety and restlessness from declining the previous invitation tenfold.

With a deep breath in and out, you crossed the hall with the hesitance of a mouse approaching a snap-trap. You knocked on the door to Unit 606 with a shaking hand.

There was a moment left to blanch at the realization that you hadn’t brought anything with you. Like the shittiest, most thoughtless guest ever.

——

“You made it!” Mrs. Farrow held her arms out dramatically. “Come in! Come in! You’re right on time! Oh and you look lovely dear!”

“Thanks.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks as the door closed behind you.

The layout of the apartment was a mirror image to yours, but you were overwhelmed by just how much stuff had taken up the space. From the kitchen to the living room, the apartment was brimming with kaleidoscopic color. Antique statuettes of unknown deities, handcrafted vases and sculptures in-set with gems and gold filigree, expertly framed posters of old Hollywood, and Persian rugs beneath well-worn furniture were visible from just a cursory glance.

It distracted you from the unusually bitter, earthy smell that assaulted you upon entering.

“Wow,” You said in genuine awe. “Your home is lovely.”

“Aw, you’re too kind sweetheart. Too kind. Here, let me take your shawl - we’ll hang it up on the rack here, see.” She took your cardigan and placed it on an old hat stand before steering you out to the living room by the back of your shoulders.

There was a man sitting in a leather armchair adjacent to the couch. He was wearing a tweed jacket and his silver-blond hair had been combed back finely to show a pale, wrinkled face and eyes so dark they shone almost black in the lowlight.

He looked at you with interest once you’d finally caught onto his presence, and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Quack!’

“Lou!” You laughed as the duck came racing over on its little legs.

Without delay, the bird climbed onto your flats with an impatient flap of its wings, trying to balance while looking up at you adoringly.

You couldn’t help but reach down and pat his little head, murmuring ‘hellos’ and ‘how you doing buddy?’ softly and sweetly.

The man opposite you both smirked. “My wife was right. He’s quite taken with you.”

“I’m always right!” Mrs. Farrow called out from the kitchen.

You looked to the kitchen and back to, presumably, Mr. Farrow, an uncertain smile on your lips.

“Welcome to our home.” The elder man’s voice was almost hypnotically deep. His hand was outstretched and waiting. “Please excuse me for not greeting you properly. When you get to be as old as I am, your body does everything it can to make you stay put in one place.”

You shook your head. “Oh no, please don’t worry about it! I understand.”

Mr. Farrow’s smirk seemed to soften as you spoke.

“Please make yourself comfortable, my dear.” When he gestured to the couch, you awkwardly shuffled to sit down. Lou was right on your heels, loathe to spend even a second without your warmth.

The duck ended up snuggled on your lap after begging to be lifted as you sank into the plush sofa. And you were grateful, hugging Lou to you gently as if he were a plush toy.

It helped take your mind away from that spine-tingling feeling when it made a comeback — the way Mr. Farrow’s eyes glittered when he looked at you and his duck.

‘Oh god, they probably are swingers. And they lure in their targets with this crazy well-trained duck.’ You thought, punching yourself in the face mentally. ‘And you fell for it. Walked right into their den of debauchery. You stupid bitch.’

“Here’s some water, honey. We’ll save the stronger stuff for dinner.” You jumped in your seat when Mrs. Farrow appeared at your side, setting a glass of ice water down on the end table beside you.

You reached for the glass as its contents sloshed over the edge. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Farrow.”

Mrs. Farrow beamed.

“What did I tell ya, Warren? Isn’t she lovely? Just a peach. Lou is smitten.” She patted your shoulder. “And it’s Cassie, honey. Call me Cass.”

“You were right, Cass.” Warren Farrow intoned.

He took on a conspiratorial tone as he addressed you once more. “You must know, my wife hasn’t stopped talking about you since you met the other day. I wondered if she was preparing us for a new roommate.”

Heat flooded your face for the second time. “Aw.”

“Oh poo, as if you wouldn’a done the same.” Mrs. Farrow sniffed derisively. “Dinner in 5 minutes!”

Her exit left room for you to start a conversation, but you couldn’t find it in you to say anything. Mr. Farrow kept staring, smiling, which made you stroke Lou’s feathers for comfort that much more.

The silence lasted a little while, save for the clinking, crackling, thudding from the kitchen dining room. Aside from catering to Lou, you surveyed your surroundings in an effort to avoid bouncing your legs.

The Farrows didn’t have a TV, only a large fireplace that they’d positioned their furniture around. There were displays on either side of the grate. On one stood an oversized chalice with intricate, swirling patterns. The other had a statuette of a goat-headed figure sitting crisscrossed on a throne, one arm poised to reach out to the sky.

“Baphomet.”

You turned from the sight, head swiveling to face your human companion. He was eying you keenly again.

“O-oh, the statue is…?”

Warren nodded. “Baphomet. Conceived as a false god around the time of the crusades. Most people see him as a depiction of Satan these days.”

The association wasn’t too far-fetched, you figured with another look at the figure. Its goat-head and large horns were the most eye-catching thing about it.

“I apologize if the sight upsets you, dear. I hadn’t thought to remove it before your arrival.”

“Oh no, please. It’s alright.” You said. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s very interesting.”

The rumbling hum at your side seemed to signal approval, or maybe general geniality with your neutral response. “Are you religious by chance?”

You turned to Warren again.

“Ah, no.” You replied apologetically. “I grew up in a Christian area, but I was never very involved with the church.”

Warren nodded. “That’s just as well. The institution and its practices can be stifling. I was never very involved with it myself.”

“Religious artifacts have always been fascinating to me, however. There’s no shortage of temples and synagogues in this world.”

“Have you been to many? For the history?” You were genuinely curious.

The old man nodded again, stately and dignified even as he puffed up in his armchair like a peacock. “Cass and I are seasoned travelers. We’ve been to all 7 continents at least twice, seen the wonders of the world from the Hindu shrines in Malaysia to St. Basil’s Cathedral. I have a particular fondness for those countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. I was able to convince Cassie another trip to Rome wouldn’t put us in the poor house last year.”

Your little huff of laughter was sincere, though the idea of traveling to Rome - or anyplace outside of the familiar - sounded amazing. “I’d love to be able to do that.”

Warren’s head tilted to one side. “You’re quite young, I’m sure you’ll get the chance if you haven’t already.”

“Sure.” You scoffed before immediately falling into contrition. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me —”

“Dinner time!”

Mrs. Farrow hollered from the kitchen, stopping you from trying to come up with a suitable excuse for yourself.

Luckily, Mr. Farrow chuckled good-naturedly. He rose from his chair stiffly, legs visibly straining. “No need to apologize, my dear. But we best get going before the Missus comes out and drags us by our ears.”

——

All things considered, the dinner was perfectly fine.

The jitters never left your frame, but you had chalked that up to a simple byproduct of your skittish nature. The red wine that Cass had insisted upon you made you feel warm and solid, at least.

As did the fact that Cassie Farrow could hold entire conversations all on her own with very little effort or input from yourself.

“You got a boyfriend, honey? Or girlfriend? No shame in that at all. We may be old but by no means bigoted. We’ve been all over the place, seen so many things - what’s natural to you and me could be the furthest from, in certain places. Isn’t that right, Warren?”

“Men in Ancient Greece often had relationships with other men.” Warren replied. “Royals in Europe had extramarital affairs with different sexes. It was all about keeping the bloodline pure, but romance was a different thing altogether.”

“I haven’t dated in a while, actually.” You said. “It’s not been a priority.”

Cassie nodded, exuberant as she drank from her wine glass. “That’s good too! Plenty of independent women these days! It’s about time, I say.”

‘Quack quack’

Lou was beside you, red eyes locked in as he gazed upon you at the dining table. It made you giggle.

“Mm!” Cassie had a spastic moment. “I almost forgot!”

The chair lurched out from under the old woman as she rose and scuttled out of the room. It left you blinking, and out of the corner of your eye you saw that same smirk on Warren’s face before his wife had returned.

She had a small wicker basket in her arms.

“This is for you, honey. Housewarming present from your kooky neighbors across the hall.”

As she drew nearer, you caught a glimpse of the contents, some of which shone beneath the light of the overhead chandelier.

“Thank you! You really didn’t have to.” The basket was pressed into your arms and Cassie was back in her seat before you’d finished your sentence.

“Nonsense. It’s the least we could do. I still can’t believe no one welcomed you for a whole week!”

The basket was lined with shredded filler, and nestled in between were little gemstones and crystals.

“There’s jade and ruby in there, and I believe there’s moonstone as well.” Mr. Farrow recalled. “Is that it, Cass?”

“Yes, yes, and carnelian too. It’s all scattered about there, with the Scrabble and the socks and the hand cream and oh!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Forgive us honey, we saw that little rubber duck and just had to get it for you.”

There was a little rubber duck. It was a novelty type, with a tiny red jacket and a tiny black top hat.

“It’s a carnival barker. No, it’s something like that. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Your nose scrunched in thought. “Oh, a circus ringmaster!”

“Exactly! See, what’d I tell you, Warren? She loves it!”

“I believe I was the one who suggested it.” His voice carried through the otherwise silent dining room.

“Oh well maybe it was, so what. She likes it. Don’t you, honey?”

“Yes, but…” You felt funny again. Tingly. “This is too much. Really. You’re both so kind but I can’t accept this.”

A hand laid gently on your shoulder and you looked up at a frowning Warren Farrow. “It’s no trouble at all, my dear.”

“The cost must’ve —”

“No cost, really. Gemstones and crystals are quite popular these days. You can find them all over. And the little trinkets are just the same. Given to you in good faith of course.” He patted your shoulder gently.

You swallowed, eyes once again roving over the little mundane treasures. Silken feathers brushed against your ankle under the table and you met those red eyes, sparkling like the crystals in your basket.

Lou was such a funny little thing. So expressive, he looked as if he were waiting as he stared at you.

So funny.

… You felt funny.

Perhaps the anxiety from before was doubling back, just like that prickling sensation. It was less of a tingle and more a shiver or chill as you sat there.

“I think it’s about time for dessert, don’t you?” Mrs. Farrow was saying somewhere far away. “You like chocolate, sweetheart? I made mousse, all fancy-like. It’s not as fancy as the kind you get at that restaurant downtown, the Ivy, but they’ve got fancy ingredients and such…”

Reaching up to wipe the sheen of sweat from your forehead, you felt heat coming off from between your temples. With a shaky breath, you slumped down in your seat.

The basket was gone.

Your chair was scraping against the wooden floor as it was pulled out from the table.

“Are you feeling alright, my dear?”

Wrinkled hands swept the hair from your face as your eyes rolled in their sockets. Words couldn’t get past the cotton-dry feeling in your throat.

“It’s the wine, the wine. Said she’s not much of a drinker, it has to be the wine.”

Cass’s voice was dampened and thick, like it was trapped underwater.

Or perhaps you were trapped. Your head was spinning, limbs heavy as if you were a puppet sans strings. You had to be picked up from under your arms like a toddler and pulled upright.

The next second you were walking through your neighbors’ kitchen, the door held open for you.

“Maybe we oughta call a doctor? Honey, can you hear me?”

“I… yes. I can hear you.” It felt like an Olympic feat, but you spoke clearly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.”

You stumbled against the wall and strong arms caught you when your knees buckled. It was Mr. Farrow allowing you to lean on him, solid as a rock.

“Cass is right, you had quite a bit of wine.” He said. Another pat to your shoulder.

Did you? You could’ve sworn it was just a glass.

Your apartment was barren and blank, the smell of laundry comforting against the memory of that earthy incense smell.

“Get some rest, honey. We’re right across the hall.”

“Thank you.” You breathed, lying on your sofa bed. “Again, I’m very sorry. Thank you for the welcome.”

“Oh no, thank you.”

——

When you opened your eyes next, you were shrouded in darkness. The outline of your entertainment system was in front of you, and the kitchen at your right.

It was raining outside; little raindrops smattering against the glass. The sound was normal, no longer muffled until you were straining to hear it.

‘Well that’s good.’

The heavy feeling in your arms was still present.

‘That’s not so good.’

You felt perfectly sane and hysterical at the same time. It was like being caught in the eye of a storm. The danger had abated momentarily, but would begin again shortly.

Your door opened, and in your peripheral you saw a shadow cut across the wall as a new figure emerged from the hall.

You squinted in the dark. ‘Lou?’

The duck’s silhouette stilled as if you’d spoken aloud. You could feel something shift in the air, tension breaking through to your mind when it could not seize your body.

That shift grew stronger, sucking in the air around it until a dazzling flash and crack of light blinded you.

Lou’s shadow was gone. Or… it had changed. The shadow on the wall wasn’t a duck anymore it was…

Your blood ran cold as the man stepped into your apartment and let the door close behind him.

“Hello there!”

#hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel

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yikesmary · 4 months

Note

Hello

how about idol mingyu hypnotized by reader from the moment he sees her -you can choose where and how they meet- I just mingyu pining over her 💚

HYPNOTIZED — kim mingyu x reader

summary: where you've got seventeen's mingyu hypnotized, and he doesn't mind it one bit.

note: hey everyone🧍‍♀️

I don't know if I'm officially back, I just wanted to post something right before new years since I haven't posted since september and you guys deserve more than that. I might post here and there, but nothing too serious so don't expect me to come back with consistent posts. hope you guys enjoyed this though! <333

"We're going to be late, love!" Mingyu called out from outside of your room and you could practically hear him pace, as if he wasn't the guest of honor and the party couldn't exactly start without him and the other guys.

Dating an Idol wasn't at all like you expected—and you didn't even have any expectations in the first place. You had been introduced by Mingyu by Wonwoo, whom you had known for a couple of years now. Initially, you were a bit wary of going on the date, considering you've heard all kinds of stories from Wonwoo.

However, what won you over was how Wonwoo described Mingyu; 'the human version of a golden retriever'. Now, if anyone else said that, you wouldn't have believed them. However, this was Wonwoo, and the fact that he had said this with the most monotone voice ever and his face as serious as ever, so you just had to meet the guy that got Wonwoo to say such nice things about him.

You then went on one date with Mingyu and many more dates after that, until you guys started dating and eventually moved in together. The relationship wasn't totally public; while fans knew that Mingyu was dating (thanks to Dispatch, who had photographed you guys together, but your face was pretty well hidden), no one knew who he was dating specifically.

You supposed that it was a blessing in disguise that people knew Mingyu was dating but didn't know who it was. Most CARATs were happy that Mingyu had been dating, which you were happy to see since you didn't know how exactly they'd react when news first broke out.

Of course, there were some instances where people tried to sleuth and find out through various methods on who Mingyu was dating, but the two of you knew better and did everything you could in order to hide your relationship.

Those who know about your relationship have commented on how it must be hard dating someone like Mingyu, but you've told them that it was worth it and that you'd do it if it meant staying with Mingyu. Usually, you've said this with Mingyu not around, but the first time he heard it, you swore that he had never looked more in love than that moment.

"The car is waiting for us and— oh," Mingyu started to say, but had interrupted himself as he spotted you, who was fastening your heels.

You stood up and adjusted your dress accordingly, making sure that there were no wrinkles. You opened your mouth to say something, but there was no time as Mingyu quickly moved across your bedroom to you and captured you in a kiss.

Startled, you eventually kissed back once you realized what was happening. To balance yourself, you wrapped your arms around Mingyu's neck, your arms lightly touching his hair. Meanwhile, his hands went around your waist, pulling you closer.

You kiss for a few moments before you realize where you guys weren't, so you pull away. "I thought we were going to be late," you said, a bit breathless at the kissing.

"Did I say that? Now that I think about it, I don't have to attend. There's 13 of us, they wouldn't notice if I was missing," Mingyu said before trying to kiss you again, but you stopped him, making him pout.

"Nope, you've already used that excuse. Remember when you thought you could not attend an award show to spend the day with me and Seungcheol noticed? The guys didn't let that go for a whole month," you scolded him, this time pulling fully away from him.

"I'll take the fall for it, let's just stay home," Mingyu practically begged, but you weren't having it.

"How about the driver?" you countered, moving away in order to get your bag.

"I was going to pay him anyways, and I'll give him a tip or something," he shrugged.

"We're still going,"

As you and Mingyu walked towards the front door, Mingyu albeit walking slightly slower than you since he was sulking, he abruptly blocked the front door, stopping you in your tracks.

"Gyu, we're going to be late, like you said. You can't resort to using your strength to stop us, no matter attractive I think it is," you retorted.

"You think I'm attractive?"

"Of course you are! Look at you!" You exclaimed, gesturing to the entirety of him.

Mingyu blushed but grabbed one of your hands to pull you closer to him. "Did I tell you that you look beautiful today?" He asked, putting your face in between his hands gently, making sure he didn't mess up your make up.

"Just today?" you teased.

"Well, you look beautiful every day. And all the days after that,"

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#seventeen fluff #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #mingyu fic #mingyu scenario #mingyu imagines #seventeen mingyu #seventeen reactions

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forever-rogue · 11 months

Note

oh rockstar eddie my absolute beloved YES. i have so many thoughts about him and i’ll admit not all of them are holy 😙 i personally love the thought of being his girlfriend and seeing there’s girls that want him etc at a show and him belonging only to you after, wearing his shirt/jacket, making out backstage, maybe even 🤭 backstage… a lot of possessiveness/marking on both ends not in like a nasty way but in a like “i belong to you” way… okay bye !!!!!

AN | My first attempt at Rockstar!Eddie, but I hope you enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Rockstar!Eddie x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Hey rockstar," your sweet dulcet voice pulled Eddie out of his thoughts. He looked up from where he was sitting and re-stringing his guitar, a smile crooking up the corner of his mouth.

"Hey baby," he motioned for you to come over, and you eagerly bounced towards him. His eyes grew soft as he studied your outfit; short jean skirt, strappy tank top, and a pair of docs that he had gifted you. You had a VIP pass around your neck, courtesy of him as well and the ever present sweet smile, "you look pretty."

"Me?" Your nose wrinkled in surprise as you looked at your outfit and shrugged, "I didn't dress up much-"

"You're fuckin' gorgeous," he insisted softly as you sat down next to him, "always."

"Hmm," you shrugged as you watched him work, mesmerized by his deft fingers, "you look good, handsome - very metal. Are you ready for tonight?"

"I am now," he set down his beloved instrument and leaned over to kiss you softly, "I've got my good luck charm."

You couldn't help the small, nervous giggle that escaped your lips. You'd never been with anyone that treated you with such love and kindness and reverence before. But Eddie showered you in it and while you loved it, it still felt odd at times.

You never imagined dating someone like Eddie before. He was, basically, the exact opposite of you. Where he was hard and dark and a literal rockstar, you were soft and gentle and shy. And yet the two of you meshed so well together. And to think you'd all met by chance; you accidentally walked into him at the coffee shop and hadn't realized who he was and he was immediately smitten. Turns out that metal still wasn't your favorite genre of music, but Eddie Munson was your favorite everything.

"Eddie, stop," you put your hand on his chest, peeking at the dark ink littering his skin and gently pushing him back, "you don't need a good luck charm. You're good on your own."

"Come on, princess," his large hands, all soft and rough at the same time, settled on your hips as he pulled you into his lap, "you're magic. Even if you don't realize that."

"Fine," you huffed with a pout, causing him to laugh brightly. You took his hands in your face and leaned in to kiss him softly. He sighed softly into your touch, squeezing the soft plush of your hips. You deepened the kiss, leaning into him, causing him to groan.

"Baby," he pulled back for a moment, something he was extremely reluctant to do, "we gotta stop - otherwise I won't be able to stop. And I'm not about fuck my girl on some cheap backstage couch."

"Oh?" Your entire face felt like it was on fire from his proclamation but he simply nodded.

"You deserve the best," his hand settled on your face and brushed his thumb over your cheek. You leaned into his touch and grinned at him, "you gonna be okay out there on your own?"

"Eddie-"

"I'm serious," he insisted sweetly, "it gets rough out there, you know that. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'll be careful," you promised, "always am."

"Good girl," he praised, "take my jacket, okay? Don't want you cold either…or have everyone checking you out."

"No one even looks at me," sometimes Eddie wondered how you could be so blind as to what people thought of you or how they saw you. You were gorgeous and he wasn't the only one to see that, "it'll be okay."

"Take the jacket please," he insisted as you acquiesced, "that way everyone knows who you belong to."

"So dramatic," but inside you were practically bursting with joy and tenderness. He was always so fiercely protective over you.

"And one more thing," before you could even ask him, he was kissing along your jaw and down your neck, sucking on the soft, delicate skin. You knew he wanted to leave behind a hazy lavender reminder of him, "let them all see that you're my girl."

"I'm your girl," your voice trailed off into a soft gasp, eyes closing at the sensation of his lips on your skin, "Eddie."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you left the backstage area, the crowd was already bustling and filling the stadium. You made your way towards the front, flashing your pass to get into the VIP area. You definitely left a few glares and curious looks thrown your way, which didn't surprise you in the slightest. You absolutely stuck out like a sore thumb at a concert full of metalheads and you were well aware of that. But it didn't matter, you loved Eddie and Corroded Coffin.

"Did you get lost on your way to the Backstreet Boys concert?" A girl, somewhere around your age, smirked at you, exchanging a look with her friend. You had to admit they were both gorgeous and definitely more the type to be at a metal concert than you were. They were tatted up with short skirts and barely there tops and heavy makeup.

"No," you smiled politely, only causing their disdain to grow, "I'm here to see my boyfriend actually."

"Okay," she rolled her eyes, as you looked towards the stage. She stepped closer to her friend and loudly whispered, "probably thinks she's dating Eddie Munson! She even got a little jacket that looks like his. Cute.”

If only they knew. You would have told them too, if they weren't so terrible off the bat.

The crowd started cheering extremely loudly, almost deafening as Corroded Coffin finally came on stage. The opening act wasn’t bad, but you’d been more concerned with spending some time with Eddie backstage. But this was what everyone had been waiting for.

You cheered along with the rest of them, happy to be so close to the stage versus somewhere out in the sea of people. You looked carefully for Eddie, watching as the rest of the band came out; naturally the front man came out last, charismatic, charming, and sexy as ever.

It was like he could see you, even in the middle of hundreds of other bodies; you swore his pretty brown eyes directly met yours as he shot you a wink and smile before stepping up to the mic.

If you thought it was loud before, as soon as he spoke his first few words, the crowd went absolutely wild. You were glad you’d listened to Eddie and taken his suggestion to wear ear plugs. If you thought it was loud with them on, you couldn’t imagine what it was like without them.

Eddie was meant to be on the stage; he had a flair for the dramatics, which he’d insisted he’d had since he was young, and a showmanship that most couldn’t rival. He owned the stage, and you loved watching him perform.

“He’s so hot,” you heard a few feet over. You couldn’t help yourself as you glanced over to see who had spoken. Another beautiful girl, tall and lithe, was watching the stage dreamily. You smiled to yourself as you sang along with him.

“I heard he has a girlfriend now.”

“Never seen her, so she doesn’t exist. It’s open season - I’m sure he’ll hook up with someone tonight. Hopefully me!”

“I’ve heard he has a big dick.”

“He’s definitely into orgies.”

“Eddie Munson definitely isn’t a one-woman guy.”

It was almost hilarious to listen to all the people around you gossiping loudly. A small part of you wanted to correct them and tell them the truth, but it wasn’t worth the time or effort. Who would believe you after all? You were the odd little duck in the crowd.

You traced your fingers over your neck, wondering how prominent the love-bites he gave you were. You wondered what the people around you would say if they knew they were from him. Probably want all the details…which you definitely weren’t going to share.

You turned your attention back to the band and bopped along to them. You might have heard their songs so many times by now, but you still loved listening and singing along.

But, in true Eddie fashion, he still managed to surprise.

“Tonight,” he addressed the crowd as they hung onto his every word, “is a very special night - we’re going to share a new song with you all. And before you ask - yes, it’s a love song. And it’s for my girl, aka the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I hope you love it as much as we do.”

And yeah. You felt like you were about to melt into a puddle. You definitely hadn’t seen this coming at all; never would you have thought you’d experience someone writing a song for you. But here it was; his love for you was now evermore immortalized in song. Tears pricked at the back of your eyes as you kept your eyes trained on him, watching his every move and listening intently to every word.

This was absolutely the most romantic thing that anyone had ever done for you. You loved Eddie so much that you weren’t even able to properly put it into words.

But you knew that it would always be you and him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once the show was over, the crowd started dispersing to go home, buzzing with that after concert high. It really was a beautiful feeling. You waited for the crowd to thin out before starting to make your way backstage. You found a few familiar faces, audio techs and managers, that waved to you in passing. There were even more strangers, most without any sort of special pass trying to sweet talk their way backstage.

As you pushed through the ground, a few curses and dirty looks were thrown your way. But you ignored them all, not stopping until you were at the front of the crowd. You hastily dodged an elbow and caught the eye of one of the bouncers, giving him a small wave. He smiled back at you, ready to move to the side to let you back. But before you could take him up on his silent offer, the dressing room door opened and Eddie popped out.

The girls around you shrieked in hysterics as they called his name to try and get his attention. None of them held his attention for more than a few seconds as he waved at the crowd and flashed his pretty smile. His eyes practically lit up when he saw you at the front, “princess!”

The swooning around you commenced as every girl around you thought that he was talking to them. He held out his hand to you and you edged your way towards him, murmuring a few excuse mes to the people around you. If there hadn’t been any sort of crowd control you were sure that you would have been taken down by someone.

“Hey handsome,” you whispered softly as you almost jumped into his arms. He easily caught you, spinning you around before kissing you softly. He was always so soft for you, despite the hard exterior. You could hear the surprised sounds from the crowd that was watching your every move with awe and envy, “you were amazing, my love.”

“Yeah?” his cheeks pinked when he realized you’d heard the song that was all about you. He knew you would, but having you acknowledge it was all the more amazing and nerve wracking, “you liked it?”

“I love it. It was the most special thing anyone has ever done for me,” you sighed softly as he set you down and took your face in his large hands, “I love you so much, Eddie.”

“I love you more, baby,” his smile made your knees weak, “come on, let’s get inside and I’ll change and we can go.”

“Eddie, hang on for a moment-”

“What’s-”

Before he could get his full question out, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, kissing him fiercely. You caught him off guard, but he quickly caught up and kissed you back. You didn’t break apart from him until you were both breathless, “baby?”

“Go on,” you nudged him backwards, “I’ll explain in a moment.”

He took your hand and pulled you along but not before you could turn around and scan the crowd. You managed to pick out the girl that had been rude to you earlier in the evening; the look on her face was priceless. You held up your free hand and waved at her, causing her to scowl even more.

She said you must have thought you were dating Eddie. The reality that you were indeed dating him made her anger spike. You couldn’t deny the thrill that came with making sure everyone knew who he belonged to. You.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What was that?” Eddie stripped off his shirt and tossed it to the side. You studied him for a moment, eyes flitting to the new tattoo that he’d gotten recently. A heart around your name, all pink and red and perfect, “what got into you, princess?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged sweetly as he playfully rolled his eyes, “just made some friends out on the floor and watched them to know that you’re all mine.”

“Friends, huh?” he raised an eyebrow as you put your hand on his chest and gently pushed him backward towards the couch. He plopped down and you immediately straddled his waist, peppering his chest in kisses.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, trailing kisses along his bare skin, “they didn’t seem to believe that you were mine. And I wanted them to know.”

“I like it,” he hands settled on your ass as he grabbed ample handfuls, “I am yours, baby. Always. The real question is - are you mine?”

“As if that was a question-”

“You could have anyone,” he took your chin in his fingers and looked at you with an intense expression, “seriously. How’d you end up with a punk like me, huh?”

“I dunno,” you turned your face and pressed a kiss to his palm, “maybe because you’re amazing and wonderful and smart and sweet and funny and everything else. How could I not fall in love with you?”

“More like how could I not fall for you?” his sigh was soft and wistful, “my sweet girl.”

“Come on,” you stood back up and reached for his hand, “let’s get out of here.”

“Already?”

“Well, you did say you weren’t going to fuck me on this couch,” you reminded him, “let’s go back to the hotels and you can fuck me properly.”

“Let’s fuckin’ go!”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #rockstar!eddie #joseph quinn #st

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Text

oh, to be alone with you

Joel Miller x OC!Reader [8.9k] SUMMARY: Never in his wildest thoughts did Joel think he'd end up having a life, after all. His mind had sort of stopped at thirty-six, then geared back into reality, twenty years later when he gained a second chance. Now... this seemed like a third. Joel saw the feelings in your eyes, and he took a chance, hoping to be choosing right for everybody this time.

— A/n 📝This was a commission made by the lovely and (very patient) Grace, and I hope they enjoy the most out of everyone ;) Reblogs and comments make all the difference. — Warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors DNI. | 🏷️ age gap, slow burn, mentions of suicidal thoughts, angst, mutual pining, resolved sexual tension, insecure!Joel, protective!Reader, unprotected sex, dirty talking, soft!Dom!Joel, praising, edging, cum play, uhm. filth? lol. you're welcome.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3

In the three years he knew you, Joel never heard you sound like this.

"Don't you ever say that again. Don't you ever talk that kind of bullshit in my presence, Joel."

There was bass to your voice when you threatened him. Fire in your cheeks. A glint so bright and wide washing in the shore of your eyes that it clicked for him. Joel realized what he'd been ignoring for the past three years — a time he spent dancing around the dark hunger he carved in his bones for you — he saw, for the first time as clear as water, that you meant those smiles. The sweetness. The honey stick way your hand touched his skin, sometimes, and the traces it left behind.

As you defended him from his own words, Joel saw he was not only old, but also goddamn stupid.

The first thing was set in stone. The second, on the other hand, he could try to change.

He meets her in Jacksonville, after fucking everything up with Ellie.

They had just arrived, both of them. Drenched in regret, numerous traumatizing events all muddled together, as that thick air of uncertainty surrounded their relationship. Joel thanked his brother and Maria for welcoming them back. Ellie spoke so little the first day that even Maria, someone who barely knew her, tried prying information out of her.

But it'd been quickly forgotten. One moment, Ellie and Joel were in a nameless hospital surrounded by fireflies, and a month later, they were settled into a nice house in the commune.

As if nothing had changed.

Everything had changed.

And there, in Jacksonville, there's you.

One of the only two doctors in town, the other being your very own old man.

All he remembered from the day he met you was your smile. Those beautiful cheeks painted cherry red, the wrinkles in the corner of your eyes, and how round and big they seemed to him as you said, "Hi. It's nice to meet you, Joel. 'm Grace."

You were. Joel had said something back. Ran away from there as soon as he could, but he played that smile every hour for the next three days before he caved in and came back to see you again.

Little did Joel know how much of a grace you'd become.

You were the only person who knew about Ellie.

Being the one who tattooed her on the second week after she arrived, Joel and Ellie decided together that at least one of the only two doctors should know about her condition, and so she told you.

Whatever Joel had expected from you, your reaction was as further from it as it could be. Nonchalance, and a sad grin. A placating nod as you told him, "you can wait here, I'll examine Ellie thoroughly and then we'll get started on the tattoo; I'll call you inside then, 'kay?"

All the compliments you offered towards the design — something Ellie drew herself — made you rise in her list of favorite people, speedily.

There was also openness. Ellie looked at you as you poked the needles in her skin with calculating eyes and Joel saw in them — if eyes could touch, she'd be reaching out for you. Hands spread open and fingers clutching around nothing. Ellie wanted to trust.

It was only a few more weeks before she confided in you and then walked up to her and Joel's place to confront him.

Demanding the truth.

The truth she knew he'd kept from her since she woke up in the car, probably.

"There was no cure."

Ellie stopped trusting him.

Joel died a little bit on the inside, but... she's alive.

He'd do it all over again.

You found him sitting on the edge of the lake with a guitar on his feet and his body frozen with dread, thinking about how hard Ellie had cried.

When you asked him, "Can I sit?", Joel thought it'd be another one of those times when you two sat close to one another in perfect silence. It happened a few times during movie nights or shared dinners in the commune's barn. Joel soaked up your presence, but that time, you had more. "You know... if one day you ever wanna hear my thoughts, professional thoughts on this whole 'cure' matter, I'd be happy to share them."

Joel had looked up at you, even though that hurt. So beautiful. "'m not sure I ever wanna think about it too hard."

You nodded. Scooted a little closer to him. "That's alright too. I just wanted to — put it out there. So you know I have thoughts about it. I told her that, too, but she gave me kinda the same reply."

"Did she?"

"Yeah, Joel. She did." No one did a sad grin quite like you. The way it reached through your eyes and touched him. "You two are so... similar."

"But we ain't." Joel knew they were different. He knew what Ellie would've chosen. "I think... I wished too hard we were."

The laughter was unexpected. "Joel."

"Yeah?"

"You do realize I know what you did, right?"

If a pin dropped a thousand miles away, at that moment, Joel would hear. With a deaf right ear or not, he would. I know what you did. Was that possible? How would you know and still have been this kind to him these weeks? Still have chosen to sit by his side, to make Tommy bug him about getting his check-ups, to be sitting next to him?

You nodded at his gawking eyes and jaw-slacked mouth. "Yeah. I'm quite good at putting two and two together."

"I... Grace — what I did—" he saw flashes of it. The white noise still echoed in him. "There's no way to know that and still be able to look me in the eye. It's why she hates me now. I — I was selfish. I took away her purpose just because I'm an old fucker who didn't wanna—"

"I would've done the same." It stopped him. The words clamped his mouth shut. "I don't have any children, but I love the only parent I have, and I would've done the same for him. He would do the exact same thing for me. Don't think he wouldn't. I know he looks like the sweetest old man ever, but he'd rip apart an entire hospital to get to me too. Go ask him if you don't believe me — but believe this: If I had a child, I wouldn't let them make this 'grand sacrifice', not even if I thought it'd work. Which is not the case here."

Joel had nothing to say to all of that.

He swallowed the knot tying his vocal cords together and looked ahead, trying to process the perspective from which you saw the situation.

Sitting in silence with you brought him peace, and that day, it deterred him from the plan that was coming together — the seed of maybe if you poisoned yourself slowly over the years you could finish the job this time.

Joel asked for your father's location in the commune, then walked with you when the sun set to eat dinner.

Ellie still hated him, and she probably would continue to for a long time, but Joel no longer felt like an anchor sinking to the bottom of the ocean with no end in sight for his fall.

I would've done the same. The words pulled him back. Made him see blue once more.

Validation saved his life. Your approval became a pillar.

He'd continue to seek it for the next years to come.

The Earth finished a whole new cycle around the Sun, and Joel started to build a life again in the meantime.

He worked patrols and went back to carpentry.

He befriended your father, who loved calling him to have dinner or smoke a pipe with him on his porch. Your father was a sweet-looking man who hid very crazy, funny, and dark bits inside of him.

"I see where she gets it from," Joel commented.

It pulled boisterous laughter from him. "Yeah, she's a feisty one."

Joel snorted. It came out in smokes. "Feisty? Ellie's feisty. I was on patrol last month when the raiders tried transpassing. I've seen your daughter use a scalpel in ways I still have fuckin' nightmares about."

More laughter was followed by, "I taught her well."

"You sure fuckin' did." Joel laughed too. Not because it was funny, but because the memory kind of terrified him. Thrilled him. He shook his head and gave the pipe back. "Was she always like that?"

"Was Ellie always like this?"

Joel chuckled. "Fair enough." Even though Ellie was now a teenager, and Joel had only known her for two years, he answered. "I think she has, yeah. A lil' badass. A lil' feisty and weird. And funny."

"God — she is funny."

"I didn't think so at first."

"She needed to work on her delivery," your father laughed like there was no tomorrow. No apocalypse. "I like seeing her and Grace together. I think she's waking up that motherly desire in her, ya know? I always wanted to see her be a mom before I give my big adios."

"If she hears ya she's gonna smack you again."

"Eh! She's always hitting folks. Her violent little heart can't stop anyone from reaching the pearly gates."

"Morice, I've heard enough stories to know you ain't seeing any pearls."

There had been silence, and then unstoppable, loud laughter from both of them.

It was the memory Joel thought about the most after he passed away.

When you came to his house with a whiskey bottle in hand and the angriest look Joel had ever seen on your stunning features, he knew without a word being said.

He sat with you in silence as you had done for him so many other times. You cried, chopped wood until your clothes were soaked in sweat, and drank with Joel until the bottle was empty.

It had been the first time you asked for something more.

When you caved into the tears late at night, Joel saw you pacing from left to right and had no clue what to do, what to offer, but you spared him of choosing. "Can I — can you hug me?"

He complied in the same second.

The request was quieter than the wind, but he could pick out your voice from a crowd.

Joel wrapped his arms around you and held you tight.

That opened up new doors — pearly gates. A year of small touches on the forearm and close proximity at every given opportunity made Joel aware of how much he craved your presence. Those little flames were nothing compared to this—a hug, and Joel's mind and body were a forest on fire.

You clung to him, rubbed your face on his chest, and refused to let go. You accepted every caress in your hair, and almost fell asleep on his shoulder.

After the hug, any excuse was a good one.

You touched him every time you saw him — even if just a little nudge on the shoulder or a finger brushing the back of his hand.

Joel started leaving tobacco and herbs on top of Morice's resting place, and continued their conversations even if he never heard the replies.

"I'll take care of 'er. Be by her side, y'know? I know she doesn't need it, but... You and her were the reason I found some happiness in here, so... It's only fair."

Somewhere along the way, you'd convinced Joel to play on Tommy's barbecues which happened every month for some of his friends.

Music connected weird parts of him together.

The strings of his guitar were one of the only guarantees he had of making Ellie smile, for starters. When she asked for the lessons a while after stopping all communication with Joel, he had simply nodded a meek, "Yeah," too stunned to add anything else; too grateful to even dare think about it.

Your request came the very first time Joel attended one of the famous Millers Sunday, and it was the reason why Joel went from feeling like a stranger in a strange town to himself again.

Tommy clapped him on the back. You, and your smile from across the yard with the fireplace burning in between, and Joel felt almost like a person.

So he sang. Played the strings even if his joints ached around the edges, played until they no longer did and his body grew used to the motions again, played every month to come just to see the smile creep on your face and you mouthing along the lines of the songs you knew.

One day, he asked why didn't you join Ellie's lessons.

"She's gettin' real good at it." He was proud of it. Joel almost preened talking of it, matter-of-factly, missing the way your eyes softened. "You like music. You like it and miss it, which not many people do. I don't even know why I ain't never thought of it — 'm sorry about that, darlin'. Were you ever interested? In learning?"

With his eyes back on you, Joel swallowed a little thickly at how gentle your smile looked. "Joel — have you ever seen me on The Porch's dance floor? Do I look like I have any rhythm?"

"Sure you do."

Your laughter. "No, I don't!" You slapped his arm, hiding your laughter in your arms afterward, and Joel was used to it. Being hit, being poked, being used as a pillow. "Stop lying to me."

"I ain't lyin'." He was. It made him smile to see you laugh that hard.

"You're full of shit, that's what you are."

"Is that your medical diagnosis?"

The giggles that were subduing came back, and Joel knew the second glass of wine had caught up to your head. "You've been spending too much time with Miss Williams."

That made him laugh. Joel did so with his head thrown back because not even three days ago he had a screaming 16-year-old screaming at him about 'manipulation of the goddamn perspective' and if that wasn't your lingo through and through. "That's rich! Oh, that's rich as fuck comin' from you."

"How so?!"

"I reckon Ellie Missy Williams's been doin' just fine with your tutoring. Don't think I've missed you and her gigglin' in the room every now and then."

You roll your eyes, smiling so wide that your tinted cheeks look carved into stone. "Fine. I'm a terrible influence. Her attitude got nothing to do with her grumpy ass 'father-figure' who taught her how to be a goddamn menace to society."

"I can hear the air quotes even when you don't them with your finger, darlin'," Joel accused, trying to suppress his smile and school his face into a threatening, menacing look.

He's hit with the memory of when you first mocked him for it.

"Don't call me her father. I ain't her father."

"Good fucking gods, you two are so difficult! Fine. As her "father figure", you need to say something. Is that better, Joel? Did the semantics change help you?"

Now, you have the same side smirk.

"You didn't say I was wrong." Your voice dropped to a whisper.

It pulled his body closer. Like gravity was in your sound waves. "I didn't."

You rested your chin on your hand. "So... we're both a bad influence."

"Seems that way," he found himself whispering too. Joel kept his eyes on your cheeks. On your lashes and your eyes, even if they pierced through him.

"Considering she's in perfect health, handles herself just fine, and is trying her best to keep the good people of this town safe... I think that's not a bad job. The whole picture, y'know?"

Joel nods and his lips tug in a smile — not because of your sweet spoken words, but because it's funny to see it. Your mind switching to seriousness so fast.

"I do love music, though," you pout, looking up at him. He recalls how the bickering started this time around, and chuckles at your late confession. "I like watching you guys better than any idea of me playing. Or singing." With a full-body shudder, you add. "That is not where my talents lie."

"Could be," he insisted, just for the sake of that—

—your smile. "Not even you have that patience, Miller."

Miller. He had to look away every time you spoke it that way. "You're right. The brat burned away the last savings I had of that."

He heard you chuckling, and then he felt it. The nuzzling of your nose on his shoulder. "Nah. You were trying to sweet talk her just last week."

"She needs a new horse," he argued with thin air over the memory you bring up. He also scoots closer to the couch so you can rest your head on him when you're done with your cat-like behavior and end up with your whole face pressed on his shoulders, your breath tingling his neck. "And you could help me with convincing her, couldn't ya?"

"I'm not gonna meddle in your Miller-Williams business," you scoffed as if the mere thought was ridiculous.

As if these two years and a half hadn't been about you and him and her and everything orbiting around that.

Joel scoffed back. "Darlin', if you think you ain't mingled in our business, I'm gonna have to be the bearer of bad news here..."

"More tangled."

"It's just a horse, Grace."

"She lost her first pet, a horse, in a traumatic even, Joel."

Fuck him, he loved doing this with you. He sipped the last remnants of alcohol from his glass hoping it'd dull the smell of your hair invading his senses. Or maybe he liked when it amplified it. Who knew. Who gave a fuck. "Fine."

"Fine."

"She can keep usin' the stables' horses every time we gotta go out." Joel was never above playing dirty. Certainly not with you. "The ones Rick tames. The ones that sense how volatile, strong, angry she can be..."

The way you tensed was twice more obvious with your whole body pressed on his side. "God, I fucking hate you sometimes."

Joel laughed at the empty curse. "'m just sayin'."

"You know exactly what you're doing."

"Do I?"

"You do and it's annoying and fine." You sighed deeply. "I'll get into yet another awkward, intense conversation with the volatile teenager about the importance of facing traumas. It'll go great."

"Better you who knows what the fuck you're talkin' about than me."

"She just stopped giving me the cold shoulder." It's a whine. You're whining at Joel about his daughter who still lives in a constant fluctuation between loveshatesloveshates with him was giving you the cold shoulder.

"It takes her two weeks to get over her lil' fights with you."

"Hmm." It was nice when you gave in. There were few times Joel could get through your stubbornness — something you and Ellie had engraved in your souls — and it felt like a win every time. "I'll talk to her."

Joel's hand moved on its own accord. From his lap to your hair, resting slowly on your head.

He squeezed a few times, and felt you nudging towards the touch. Leaning into it.

"Thanks, darlin'."

There was a heartbeat before you answered.

"'Course, Joel."

While the looks were easy to ignore, the whispers were not.

Words carried by the wind clung to his skin like the very smell of sweat after some years of running non-stop.

They spoke about him.

About Ellie.

You.

All three, mushed together, sometimes all in one go, sometimes two by two, but always you three.

Joel knew what they thought of him and you — of your time spent together.

They thought of him as inappropriate. You had always been the 'dark sheep' of the commune. The reason why people sometimes still remembered how grim and ugly it was out there. They spoke of you as ruthless, frowned upon your methods, but Joel smell their bullshit and saw beyond their condescension.

It was easy to speak with their bellies full.

With their houses safe. God, it boiled his blood to even think about it — these people sometimes slept with their doors opened because the security around the wooden gates was so great and efficient, but failed to remember or willingly forgot that all triage was created by your now deceased father and you.

It was your 'ruthless methods' that kept the creeps away.

Who screened people who seemed otherwise harmless but sought to do sordid, unspeakable things inside safe havens they'd have no problem burning to the ground.

Sure, he'd cleaned his way through a hospital to stop the murder of one single child, but at least Joel had a head on his shoulders.

Some people out there lacked even that.

As much as he wished for judgment to come only from the strangers he grew to know as neighbors and comrades — something you, personally, loved teasing him and Tommy of being — but of close people.

Maria, he could handle it. It was when Tommy spoke up that it stung.

"Don't you think it's... weird? Hangin' out with her so much? I mean—I heard from Dieter that he wanted to ask her out, but somehow when he goes to ask she's always talkin' to you." Tommy looked like he meant well with it. Those eyes never lied to him, and Joel saw the concern there. "I just don't want you to feel left out or abandoned in case she does start seein' someone, that's all."

That's all.

As if he hadn't opened a dent in Joel's mind.

A 'in case she does start seein' someone' sized dent.

It was the only time Joel gave a damn about words being spoken of him—or to him, he should say, considering it was meant as advice.

It was the first and last time.

In three years Joel never thought of you or anything he felt as inappropriate. Maybe he even should.

There were certainly dreams.

Desire was there, too. Alive and burning. Tall and solid, with the fires high enough for it to be a volcano.

But he swallowed it down.

He knew you were not for him.

He knew you were too bright. Knew he had nothing to offer but his company, some music every now and then, and everything inside of him, if you asked.

Still—he never did anything.

Even in the times when it felt like the bickering and teasing might be called flirting. In the times when you bit your lip after staring at him a heartbeat or two too long, or when you made his chest, shoulders, his neck your personal comforter, making yourself at home.

He bit his tongue during those times.

Told himself there was such a thing as projecting, and that just because you knew him, knew all of him, it didn't mean your kindness and acceptance equaled all that he felt for you.

All of the fuckin' ocean of things he so painfully, obviously felt for you.

Listening to Tommy worked until it didn't.

Until you showed up at his doorstep late at night, pissed off and fuming.

"Where the fuck were you?" Without even waiting for a reply, you stepped inside the house, pushing past him. "And speaking of being places, where have you been? 'Cause blowing me off only works the first four or five times. I know where you live, and in case it wasn't crystal clear to you, I know when you're lying to me."

So you pretended to believe his shitty lies. Joel closed the door with a sigh and wondered if Ellie was already listening from upstairs.

He imagined telling you to lower your voice was a certain ticket to meeting your father earlier than his due time.

"I'm sorry."

"That doesn't answer where you've been." Your arms crossed over your chest. "Y'know, it's called Miller Sunday and ever since you moved here, that means two for one. Tell me why I endured Maria's friends the whole fucking night, hm?"

"Uh — 'cause they like you?"

"Joel."

"I know, I know." He chuckled under his breath, raising both hands up in surrender. "My bad." He nodded towards the kitchen trying to work out how to knit an excuse on the spot, and then remembered—I know when you're lying to me. "I've been... stuck in my head."

There was a pause. "Oh. Ew." That made him laugh again. "Well, alright. That happens sometimes. Care to share why you're acting as if isolation's gonna help with that?"

"Damn, I don't know, woman. 'Cause I'm old and stupid? 'Cause I listen to Tommy every now and then even though that's a shitty idea sometimes?"

"Don't call yourself stupid in my presence, it's fucking offensive." The damn heat behind your words almost made him work up a sweat. "What does Tommy have to do with this?"

"Nothin'." Joel hid his face while opening the fridge, but he knew your silence well. He picked up the water jug, and placed it on the counter behind him.

"Miller, look at me."

Goddamn it.

He turned around slowly.

You were looking right through him. Searching all over his face for something you found within two seconds.

Then, you stepped closer until you were only a few inches away, looking up at him with enough certainty in your gaze to make him feel smaller despite the inches he had on you.

"I know damn well who I wanna spend my fucking time with." It was like a caress to the face. Joel felt it like your fingertips, which had traced the lines in his eyes and face until he fell asleep a few times by now. "Never insult me again by thinking you, or Tommy, or anyone for that matter can know that better than me."

An adult. Who knows who she is. Who's walked her path.

It went unsaid.

Joel nodded along since there was nothing to do but agree.

"If you don't wanna spend time with me for you own reasons, then... so be it. Tell me about them, or don't, but—never do this again. Your brother's known me for a little longer than you, but he doesn't know me as well as you do. I expected this from Tommy."

But not from him.

"It ain't gonna happen again." Joel said it and you both could hear how he meant it.

Slowly, a smile crept on your face. "Good."

"You're smiling?" he asked, dumbfounded.

The smile widened. "I'm... a little happy right now."

"Because... I ain't gonna be a stu—sorry, a silly little old man any more?"

There was a giggle you tried suppressing and failed at. "No."

"'Cause you're gonna use this against me for the next fortnight to get me to do whatever you want even though I'm nearly a sixty-year-old man?"

A roll of your eyes put a smile on his face as well. "You're more in shape at sixty than a lot of our twenty-year-olds here and that act doesn't work with me, darling. No—I'm happy 'cause I'm surprised. It works on you too."

"What works on me?"

"My mean glance." The answer took him by surprise, and yet, all you seemed was even more gleeful at his wide-eyed expression. "Didn't know I could scare Joel Miller."

"You're gigglin' 'cause you just found out I'm scared of ya?"

"Exactly."

"Darlin' I thought you saw me as a smart one. Who in their right mind ain't scared of you?"

"Damn right." You slapped his shoulder, and it seemed to ease some of the tension he carried these days he tried creating distance between you both. "Now — since we established the rights and wrongs. You wanna hear all the gossip about today?"

Joel had picked up the jug of water, but he could switch to the cans of beer.

"Lay it on me."

The thing is — never in his wildest thoughts did Joel think he'd end up having a life, after all.

Who was he to be one of the few lucky bastards who got one at the end of everything? What had he done to ever dare dream he deserved it?

Peace, a good life, building things again... that was reserved for the good ones.

Joel was not one of the good ones.

His mind had sort of stopped at thirty-six, then geared back into reality, twenty years later when he gained a second chance.

All the things he did in between those instances counted for a whole lot.

It's why he ignored it until he couldn't anymore.

That was why Joel saw only his own feelings screaming and reaching so loud, grasping like grabby fingers towards you, and blinded himself to the way all those gazes you sent back were you giving him a white flag.

Joel saw what he had the heart and mind to handle at the moment, he liked to think.

Now... this seemed like a third.

This seemed like a confession.

And it all had happened so fast.

One minute, Joel was saying goodnight to Ellie. She was leaving to go to her friend Dina's house, and you were there with your glass of wine in hand while your other browsed through the new books he picked up at the library lying on his shelves.

He had been talking about Martha — to him, it was a funny story he wanted to get out of his system since it happened, and the one and only person he wanted to tell it to was you.

He was even laughing as he started it, but his rhythm faltered when he first caught the look on your face. It made him lose his train of thought. It fucking blindsided him.

Was it jealousy?

He stuttered. It was ridiculous to him — talking about the nice woman who worked at the restaurant who flustered herself trying to talk to Joel. Flirt with him.

He'd never seen that look on your face.

Could it be—no. It had to be something else. "...told her that she isn't actually, uhm... biological. What's wrong? Did I say something wrong? Was I shit-talking myself again and didn't notice?"

If there was a thing that put a frown on your face, it was when he did that.

"No." Joel became alert out of nowhere because this tone was absent from his mental register of all your different voice tones.

"Oh. I thought I did." He laughed, albeit awkwardly. "I just—I thought it was funny, that's all. Didn't even think it was possible for someone to blush still 'cause of old me. It was funny, couldn't believe why she was so flustered.

"Why not? That wasn't the reason for my face but now it fucking is." How could Joel ever demand that Ellie cursed less when this was his household? He pinned that one for later. "You're a handsome guy. Intimidating. Don't laugh at her because you give off those... vibes."

Handsome? Intimidating? Joel's mind started reeling, and so he laughed. "Vibes? What fuckin' vibes? I'm old, Grace. What does she got to be intimidated about other than the side of me she doesn't even fuckin' know?"

"I don't know!" your voice rose to match his own, and that's when Joel noticed how his pitch rose as he argued with you. Bickering or fighting, you two could end up at each other's throats within a second, and then be hugging in the next. "Maybe because she sees you from an outsider's lens? Maybe she sees what you can't since you're so busy always thinking about everything you do wrong and lose the ability to look past that?"

"All I do is get shit wrong! You better than anyone knows that." God, was he happy Ellie had left. Joel sighed, rubbed his palms all over his face and tried breathing deep to steady his voice. "I've got nothin' to offer anyone and I don't even know how we got here from a funny lil' story I was—"

That's when it happens.

You interrupt him.

Deadly, direct, and loud, you cut over his words.

"Don't you ever say that again. Don't you ever talk that kind of bullshit in my presence, Joel."

"Why not?! It's the truth."

"No, it fucking isn't! It's the cruel part of you that judges you based only on the wrongdoing and paints it as your whole personality and I'm not gonna fucking have it! It's not the truth. It's not! Not to me." When you stopped, the whole house seemed to follow suit and quiet down with you. Then—"You don't accept me seeing only the worst in me. Why would I let you do the same? I won't."

There was bass to your voice when you threatened him.

Fire in your cheeks. A glint so bright and wide washing in the shore of your eyes that it clicked for him.

Joel realized what he'd been ignoring for the past three years — a time he spent dancing around the dark hunger he carved in his bones for you — he saw, for the first time as clear as water, that you meant those smiles. The sweetness. The honey stick way your hand touched his skin, sometimes, and the traces it left behind.

It silenced him immediately.

As you defended him from his own words, Joel saw he was not only old, but also goddamn stupid.

The silence must have stretched for too long because as it becomes a physical blanket draping over both of your shoulders, your posture changes.

Becomes erratic.

Looking from side to side, you sigh. "Y'know what? I should go. We're both hot-headed idiots and I don't wanna—"

"Sit down."

For the first time ever, you obeyed him.

It took you a second—you froze at the command but stopped your movements to remove your jacket from the chair's back and sat back down in slow movements, your eyes lingering on his all the time.

Was it real?

"Gimme a second here." Joel needed more than that. Goddamn it—Joel would need the rest of his life to accommodate to this feeling. Thing bubble of pure, raw energy swirling inside of him and growing each second, all because— "You were."

You were jealous. Of him.

Your eyes never looked so vulnerable. So earnest, and terrified. "Of course I was." It comes out like you silly old man.

Joel tries to work his vocal cords. They might've been knitted together. "Why?"

Instead of raging over him again, this time, your gaze sees the real question he's asking.

Joel never believed in an air you could touch until he stood in this very room.

He can taste the back of his tongue. He sees your frown softening, disappearing.

"Because you care, Joel." The simpler answer. He waits, because he sees in your steady, careful breathing that there's more you want to say. This tone he recognizes. This is 'I'm collecting myself bit by bit' Grace, and he waits, as always. "Because... you either lost your eyesight or just blinded yourself to... you." It's nighttime and the only light in the kitchen comes from his yellowish bulb, but it's enough to see the tint on your cheeks. "Because you're—this package. Of everything real. Everything resilient, and clever, and... Miller. Fuckin' — southern charm. Stupid fuckin' smile."

It amps. It darkens. Your cheeks, your eyes. And once you seem, it seems a crack is opened in your dam, and the inevitable water comes to fall.

"I dreamt about it before." Joel is stuck in place, listening to you. "Your smile. The way you laugh, too. And — you do this thing, where you're a complete delight to people you care about. That's what Ellie means when she says you make it so hard to stay away from you, just so you know."

"You two talk about me?" it comes out choked.

You nod. "'Course we fuckin' do."

"Goddamn it."

"Yeah." Your laughter sounds as breathless as he feels. "Because of that. And more."

He nods back, thinking — okay.

Okay.

Joel might take a lifetime to feel worthy of your feelings, but if he has them — "I didn't think I stood any chance."

The confession lays on the table for a moment and when you pick it up, Joel can see it — your eyes widen, surprise evident on your face.

"You really didn't know," you whisper.

He blinks away the sudden sting and glint in his eyes, laughing at himself. "I really didn't know." He registers you knew about your own feelings, but you have no idea of his. It registers that you both have been suffering in silence, overshadowed by the brightness of your own feelings to see beyond them. "I don't think I could've handled it if I knew it before," he confesses.

"Wow." You sigh deeply, sucking all the air you can into your lungs. "I can't believe I owe that little shit fifty bucks. I don't even have money."

"You bet on this?"

The look you throw him is enough of an answer.

Then, another question pops up — and yeah. That's why the air is palpable. It's like walking through a spider's nest.

The threads might be thinner than hair, but the feeling sticks out. It sticks with you. If Joel's had a chance all this time, if all your feelings were kept safely tucked i

He only has one question to make. "Is it too late?"

Your eyes snap back to him. "Too late for what?"

"To make a move." Joel might've been an idiot, but he's keen on fixing it. "Because — in case it wasn't clear, my thoughts are all yours." From the look on your face, it was not something you knew. The glint in your eyes tells him it might be something you hoped for or dreamed about, but it's his words that set it into stone. "My time's yours. I ain't as good as you with words, but... all I ever wanna be is alone with you. You said it yourself last month. 'm the happiest when I'm with you and El. Now... you know why."

For someone who knew him so little, you always seemed to know what kept Joel tethered to the moment.

As you listened to his words, your eyes shined, reflecting the light. Joel wanted to say more things, but he decided to keep them for later. A moment when there was less of his soul seeming to pour out through his pores.

You get up from your chair, and in two steps, you're standing in front of him.

Turning sideways, you sit on his lap.

Joel feels his hands shake as they come to rest on your hips, and yours come up to his face.

There's nothing left for you to say, or ask. Joel closes his eyes in surrender. Opening his mouth was a leap — perhaps the height was what created that bubble; that huge thing inside of him that only expanded the closer you got.

Joel never felt this before.

He knew those were your lips pressing against his. Knew it was your hair tickling his face and your fingers threading through his thick hair, but he felt submerged.

Not drowning — just deep, way deep in water.

You pulled back after a second. The kiss was so soft, and yet, Joel felt you like an ocean wave.

He opened his eyes to the sight of you licking your lips, and that snapped him; something in your tongue reached deep within him, going further than he thought possible, and ignited another something in him.

Desire.

Not the need for release, or momentary rushes, but—

the real deal.

One of Joel's hands came up abruptly, taking hold of your neck, and he breathed in a slow breath before closing the gap between your lips again.

This time, he invited himself in.

Joel licked your lips open. He pulled you closer until you were pressed against his chest, and kissed you for all the years he lacked the will to kiss someone.

It was a feast.

The more he gave, the more you took. The sounds that started to come out of you only made Joel hungrier, and the more he heard it, the more he craved it.

He could already see the cycle of addiction forming in his brain.

Your tongue swirled with his slowly, in a lazy, filthy kiss. With his hands making a mess of your hair or grabbing you by the neck and chin, he guided your face to where he wanted.

When a particular breathy whine was pulled out of you, Joel's fingers tightened around you. The kiss became desperate, needy, a pouring of bottled emotions.

A joined deep dive, where no oxygen was needed.

Fuck—Joel needed to breathe. He pulled back because his lungs screamed that at him, and he laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of that. His heart was beating as fast as it could, and his ears were ringing, he thought, and you were resting your forehead on his with your puffs of breath tickling his face.

He could feel you smiling with how close you stayed to his lips.

Joel really was alive, no matter how hard he fought it.

And now, somehow, he was here.

"What?" you whispered. Breathless.

That, he wanted to answer. Joel panted, and noticed you were breathing heavily too.

"'m never been in such a hurry my whole damn life." Joel pulled you back by the nape for one more kiss just to show you he meant it, and you moaned on his lips.

It occurred to him that might die by your hands, metaphorical or not.

You were in him.

"You." His time was yours, and so were his thoughts, and now, Joel thought he was, too. In a way. "Sittin' here on my lap, like it's nothin'."

"It's everything."

"Goddamn it, woman—"are you trying to kill me, he wants to say.

It gets buried in your lips.

Joel wants to devour you right there on the table. It's a place for eating, and he'd butter you up only to eat you piece by piece until half of his face was drenched.

At the same time, Joel's hands were shaking.

He kissed you so deep, and yet so slow because he wants this forever.

He couldn't keep everything inside him. Joel knew all he could do for now was kiss you because anything more might pull him apart by the seams.

When you start kissing his neck, his eyes snap open, and he forces himself to capture your attention. "Darlin'." It comes out raspy and low, pulling another precious sound from you. Joel exhales shakily. "Grace, hey."

That gets you. Your face comes back in his field of vision, and he's distracted by the reality facing him.

Red cheeks and lips, which are also puffy. Swollen.

He did that.

The glazy glint in your eyes and the wildness of your hair.

He did that, too.

"What?" you ask. Breathless voice — all him.

It hits him right there—the new stream making connections in the depths of his mind. Mine. A river of mineminemine.

"I hate to break this short, but — El's comin' back soon, I think."

"Oh!" You nod to yourself. "Right. And — you wanna wait? To tell her, and stuff?"

Joel laughs. He leans his head to kiss those pretty, puffy lips. He murmurs the answer right against them. "Nah. 'm gossiping to her as soon as she's through that door and 'm gettin' my money share of that bet you mentioned." Your gasp makes the smile stay on his face. "Yeahhh. But — I'm takin' you on a date tomorrow. Old school style. I'll plan it and everythin'. I know you well enough to not mess this up, I think."

He's messed up enough in his life. Maybe the universe could grant him after trying so damn hard to repair all the things he'd broken; a chance.

"I'll be ready, Miller."

He kisses you again. "Good. I'll pick you up at sundow."

"Is this you kicking me out of your house?"

He rolls his eyes at the sarcastic question and kisses the cocky grin off your face because he now can. He kisses it away real good, until his own toes are squirming in his boots and Joel can categorize the strength you like to have your hair being pulled by, how much you enjoy the nibbles he's unable to keep from stealing of your lips, and he's mapped the outlines of your upper body.

When he needs the stupid oxygen again, Joel pulls back but stays close.

"You're gonna help me make dinner?" he asks, low and sweet.

You hum. "Yeah."

"Thank you." Thank you, he kisses the thought on your lips. Thank you so much. "'m gonna be doin' this a lot now that I know I can."

"Oh, you're gonna kill me."

Joel's smirk comes back. "Y'know what? I was thinkin' the same thing."

Dinner is made with music playing on the radio for the first time in a while. Joel almost pinches himself when Ellie gets home with a, "Woah, what the fuck?! It smells amazing in here."

It hurts, how good it feels.

Joel never thought that feeling would come back.

According to Ellie Williams, Joel becomes "unbearable, really," and he would take offense to it had she not followed it with, "but... it's nice to see this side of you. And — I like her. I love Grace, actually. You know that. She's given me a lot to think about. Plus—she makes you reeeeal talkative, and we had a nice talk last night. Good on you."

Good on you.

Joel smiles for the rest of the day.

Tommy takes a total of one day and one scolding from you — which Joel fucking misses because of a shift of all things, and honestly, he'll never stop asking for your story of that day — and there's that.

Millers Sunday has a couple of tense first tries, but after a couple of months, people get used to the shift.

It's not that different from before.

You two were already seen side by side more often than not. Now, the difference was that Joel's arm could be found around your chair sometimes, or your hand rested on his neck, or you two shared a little wink.

A little flirtatious remark.

Ellie 'hated' it. "It's gross. You two are gross."

She said it laughing, though. Joel smiled every time he heard it.

They grew used to it, and Joel thanked the power of the peace you brought him, because anything they disliked about it became white noise to him.

All his insecurities were abandoned on the first date night he has with you.

Joel gets the house all for himself.

He plans the hours carefully because he meant what he said. He picks you up at sunset and takes you for a walk on the lake to enjoy the night sight and weather while it lasts. After, he takes you home to eat dinner, then pulls out one of your favorite board games to entertain the night and give both the time to work through the wine.

He liked to see your glee winning.

Joel was shitty at most of these, but it was worth the frustration of being a sore loser in your hands.

You soothed his bickering protests by crawling to him.

Not sliding, or scooting over — you crawled like a cat, and stole all his focus in one movement.

Joel did to you what he meant to do on that table.

First, right there on the floor.

Even though he wished you two went to the bedroom, it was impossible to untangle from under you when you kissed him until you two were panting for each other again. All that energy sizzling in your veins, pumping with dreams and wine, and Joel just thought fuck it.

There was a fluffy carpet and the duvet he'd spread so you two could sit with the game and play comfortably, and that's all he needed.

He had you on your back with your legs wrapped around his neck, lying with his stomach on the floor. Kneading the pad of his thumbs on the inside of your legs. Kissing all the parts of you he imagined. Joel stripped you from your clothes, and kept his eyes fixed on you as he searched for the right ways to unwind you.

He opened you up with his tongue, slowly, and deliberately.

Nothing was enough when it came to you.

Joel accepted right there — legs locked on his shoulders and your feet digging heels in his back —, right then — his tongue thrusting in and out of you until his jaw ached —, that he was fine knowing it'd be an endless search.

Seeking his fill of you.

He eats up the way your lips loosen when his hands are on you. "Joel, why d'you have clothes on? Take 'em off, take it off." He appreciated how you lost your eloquence. How eager you were for him.

"It's ok, 'm here, darlin."

"I know, want it closer." He loved how you took it. What you wanted from him, you just took it, and he prayed it would always be that way. "Want you in me," you whisper on his lips.

That's when he finds the strength to get up. He picks you up and resists the urge to throw you over his shoulder, taking you to the bedroom with all of his clothes still on and yours abandoned in various places of the living room.

Time sort of... folds, with you and a bedroom.

Joel finds that out on night one, and it keeps on being true.

The way all your walls are down there drives him towards insanity, and later, you peppering kisses all over the skin closest to you, the skin your mouth can find, it brings him back.

Joel gets undressed slowly. "Get on the bed." He falters a little when you obey him again, and it clicks for him. Joel exhales, throwing his shirt off somewhere. "Touch yourself while I do this."

Your eyes widen for a second, but again...

You smile first. Then, slowly, your knees pull apart and your hand reaches between your legs, where your pussy opens up in a glistening sight, and Joel has only the mind to finish his task.

It's hard not to worship something that makes his mouth water.

He does that until you're shaking, legs trembling on his shoulders and begging for him to come up—"get here, please."

It's the 'please' that gets him.

Joel goes in seek of more of them. Always more of them.

He discovers you like it when he alternates between extremes. Really slow, or a hard, or a fast, or a deep pace. Joel spends as long as he can take testing all the ways you wrapped around him can feel like and all the angles that make your jaw fall slack open.

Something about fucking you face to face, though — Joel gets to see the scrunch of your nose and your eyes rolling back when he praises you for doing so, so well. "Taking me so well. Look at that — look at it, baby, c'mon." The loud and unabashed moan you let out makes him roll his eyes, thrusting deep into you. "Keep on looking."

"Joel."

"Hmhm. What — is it — hm, baby?"

"'m gonna cum again," you whine, getting louder, and he gets more desperate. "Oh, god," you cry out.

"'s fine. That's what — I want. Give it to me"

"It's so good. Please—harder, Joel. Like you want to fuck me."

You enjoy doing it to him, Joel thinks. Breaking him so you can put it back together, or maybe it's just how you make him whine that gets to your head.

It gets louder — everything gets louder. The sounds, the bubble of feelings reading to burst and be reborn again, only bigger, how fucking wet you get for me.

"C'mon, darlin'. Wanna feel you soakin' me with your cum."

Joel sees why you enjoy it, too.

He smiles, and ascends at seeing the sweet feelings of release washing you from head to toe, and the transcendent look in your eyes when you open them and pull him down for a kiss. You came so hard he lost himself in your orgasm, mixing with his own and he cums a little more at the realization, burying himself deeper in the mess you two have made.

Your whining and panting in can only be felt, so he switches your face to his left side. "Deaf, baby."

You giggle at him. "I didn't say anything."

"I know. Just wanna hear your lil' noises." Joel kisses your neck, and pulls out slowly despite your whiny protests. His fingers come down to between your legs and he should feel self-conscious about the filthy mess he makes there, but when he looks up at your face you're watching him with a look he knows.

I'm starving for you.

Joel seals his lips on yours.

He's never leaving this place. This home he's built where he gets you, and a second chance, and the monthly Sundays with music and you by his side whispering indecent jokes in his ears, and the protective circle you create around him and Ellie ate any minor possibility of outsiders.

Joel's not missing this chance for anything.

🏷 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart — @sirtommyholland — @capbrie — @hawsx3 — @superflymaterial — @ashleyforeverareject — @girlofchaos — @queerponcho — @am-3-thyst — @nyotamalfoy — @my-tearsricochet — @ponyboys-sunsets — @peqchsoup hope you all enjoy it!

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writersmess · 1 year

Note

hello!! i hope you’re doing well and having a great day 🥰

i saw you were taking requests and was wondering if you’d write a buck fic where they find out they’re having twins and how they tell the 118? if don’t get to it, truly no worry. just take care of yourself and remember to drink water ❤️❤️

TO BUILD A HOME | EVAN BUCKLEY

Pairing: Evan Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: You found out that you were pregnant with twins and it was time to tell 118.

Warning: just a big fluffy family

Word count: 1k

a/n: Thank you so much for this request!!! I wanted to start by saying how much I loved this request. I have to confess that I am in a scary baby fever lately and this just made me want a baby even more (help meeee) I hope you like it!!! And forgive if there’s any mistakes, english is not my first language.

Also can someone plssss give this man a baby??? After the last episode it was clear how much he is prepared AND how much he wants it!!! omg

Masterlist

...........................................

“twins?”

lying on the hospital stretcher, with an icy gel on your low stomach, you could hear Buck’s startled murmur as he repeated the doctor’s words. You were completely shocked. As if finding out the pregnancy wasn’t scare enough, you’re having twins?

Your hands were shaking and sweating, your mind was a completely mess, fear was growing in your chest. What if you weren’t good enough, what if-

“baby?” Buck’s voice woke you from your thoughts and you could see the worried look on his beautiful face. “are you feeling okay?”

“y-yes, i-i just-“

“i’ll give you a moment”

The doctor said as she wiped the gel from your belly and soon left the room leaving you two alone.

“i-i don’t know if- how can we-“

“hey hey, calm down” He held your face in his hands and his eyes met yours. “I am scared to death about this too. But we’re going to make it, we’ve faced so much so far, all the obstacles that have come our way and we’ve faced them. We are going to make it, we are going to have these babies and they are going to learn about the greatest love in the world, because they are going to be raised by us”

“and by the 118” You added and let out a muffled laugh. He let out a wide smile and you could see how his eyes formed little wrinkles as his smile grew. “i love you so much”

“i love you guys too” He put his hands on your stomach and gave you a little peck in your lips.

It was finally Thanksgiving morning. You and Buck agreed to wait until today to tell everyone about the pregnancy. You were helping Athena and Maddie in the kitchen, while the rest of the team was setting Bobby and Athena’s house for lunch. You didn’t wake up well this morning, the nausea that you thought was over showed its face again. You excused yourself and quickly went to the bathroom, throwing up what you didn’t even know you had in your stomach. After you cleaned yourself up you came out of the bathroom and bumped into a frowning Maddie.

“Are you feeling all right? This is the second time you’ve run to the bathroom to-“

You noticed her eyes widen and the glow of understanding appeared on her face. And your eyes widened too.

“oh my god. You are preg-“

Before she could finish her sentence you dragged her into the bathroom with you and quickly closed the door. Your heart was racing and now Maddie’s eyes were filled with tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me? How far along are you? oh my god, my brother is going to be a father. Jee is going to have a cousin” She kept murmuring and you smiled at your sister-in-law’s excitement. When your eyes met she gave a huge smile. “and how are you doing? i am so happy for you”

She hugged you tight, and you didn’t even realize you had tears in your eyes until they rolled off your face.

“that’s why Buck hasn’t taken his eyes off you all morning” You nodded, still teary-eyed, and tried to pull yourself together.

“Maddie you can’t tell anyone. We will announce it this afternoon, it’s still a surprise”

“yeah of course. I’ll try to keep my mouth shut” You gave her a serious look and she laughed. “i promise I’ll keep my mouth shut” As soon as you left the bathroom Buck was standing in the doorway with a worried look on his face.

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything is great” Maddie exclaimed with her hands up and burst out laughing. As soon as she left Buck looked at you confused and you sighed.

“she knows” you both spoke together and smiled.

The table was set, everyone was seated, and Bobby began a speech about the things he was grateful for this year. He was about to start the meal, when Buck asked to speak.

“ahn, i-i’d like to- i-i’m-“

He started to stutter and you held his hand under the table. He took a deep breath looking into your eyes and your smile gave him the strength to continue.

“i am extremely grateful for this family, the 118 family, I think you all remember that I didn’t go through my best phase in the beginning, but with your help I can say that I have become a better firefighter and a better person. And I am grateful for the woman who chose me. A few years have passed since we decided to give this relationship a chance and I could never have imagined that this would become the best thing in my life, the best part of me. But today in particular I am grateful because she gave me the opportunity to be a father and I am grateful for the babies in her belly”

“what?” Eddie was the first to ask while everyone stared at you in astonishment.

“oh my god, babies? As two babies?" Maddie exclamed with tears in her eyes.

And when you confirmed it the celebration began. Everyone came up to you to congratulate and tell you how much these babies would be loved. How great you would be as parents, and of course lots of jokes about how they didn’t believe Buck could do anything good like winning you over and now getting you pregnant, you’re too much for Buck. You couldn’t have dreamed of a different scenario, a better one. The look on Buck’s face, his sincere smile on his lips as he told about the day you found out together that you were pregnant, the love that radiated from everyone around you, the caresses on your belly and the loving comments, the warm hugs.

That was the true meaning of family for you. The joy, the talking, the pregnancy planning, the hugs and smiles, went on throughout the day. And it went on during the months that followed, the homemade meals made especially for you, the gifts sent for the babies, the help to set up the babies’ room.

They were your true family.

When the day finally arrived ahead of schedule, you were home alone. Despite the fear and desperation you did what you had spent months preparing for. While on the way you called your boyfriend, you didn’t expect that you would arrive at the hospital practically together with a truck full of anxious firemen who came straight out of a call to the hospital. The nurses couldn’t stop talking about how loved you were and how anxious the firemen and their partners in the waiting room were.

And the moment has finally arrived. The Buckley babies have arrived into this world, and you and Buck couldn’t be happier.

Your family was now complete.

#911 imagine #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #911 fanfic #buck x reader #evan buck buckley

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lovelyiida · 1 year

Text

mha guys confessing their feelings<3

INCLUDES: BAKUGO KATSUKI, EJIRO KIRISHIMA, DENKI KAMINARI

GENRE: fluff, light-angst

WARNINGS: implied fem reader, vulgar language, sexual themes

MASTERLIST

WORDS: 4.1K

KATSUKI BAKUGO

• we all know this poor guy would be a mess.

• constantly checking if there are wrinkles on his perfectly ironed uniform (that took him several hours to do the day before).

• making sure that his spikes were in all the right places, twiddling with his hair strands making sure the point is so sharp your hand could be sliced off if you touched it. Not that he wants to hurt you…

• reciting his lines over and over until his mouth gets dry.

• this man is a mess, and it’s all because of you.

‘damn chick, you’d just had to’ve sat next to me on the first day of training.’

Bakugo thought to himself whilst adjusting his tie for the seventh time today.

it’s true to think that you were a force that couldn’t be pushed away. first day of classes and you walked straight up to him, with a bright smile you extended your hand out to shake. rolling his eyes, he gets up and walks away.

but you never knew that his fate with you would be sealed beyond that point.

from constantly ignoring you, to always making random conversations. you even became his go-to sparring partner, leaving a sad Kirishima in the midst.

‘she’s just a better partner, no hard feelings bro.’

from the beginning of the day to the end, you guys were always together. It was a simple joke made by Denki, one day, you all were sitting at lunch, chatting it up and making regular convos.

Denki realized that you and Bakugo were having a whole other conversation from the table. Silently chuckling to yourselves, hitting his shoulder when he says something funnier than the last remark (most likely talking shit about his classmates). Denki shows a devilish smirk.

“so, how long have you guys been dating?” the table confused as to who he was talking to, your eyes narrow. “huh?” you say, bakugo looks up at him, confused and pissed off because he was in the middle of a lovely shit-talking fest with you.

“y’know…” Denki looks and you and bakugo, signaling that he was talking about both of you. Mina’s blank expression becomes ecstatic. “You guys are dating?” she yells.

You and Bakugo’s eyes widen, you start the shake your head and wave your hands. “oh no, w-were just friends, right?” looking at Bakugo he swallows his spit.

“Yeah, we are.”

“We’re just fucking friends, and if I hear any of you guys spread rumors, I’ll have your guts on a platter by the end of the fucking day!” slamming his fists into the table, everyone jumps.

getting up from his seat, you try to call him back. But it was no use, angrily muttering to himself back to the dorms.

“fuckin’ crush on her? why the fuck would I have a crush on her?”

“they’re all dead wrong.”

they’re all dead right.

I mean, looking at it from his point of view, he couldn’t help himself.

same sense of humor, great sparring partner, same interests, same music taste, and you were fucking hot? it was only a matter of time until he couldn’t deny the facts any longer.

now here he is, nervous as all get out, with a bouquet with your favorite album in one hand, and a teddy bear in the other.

blowing his breath into the air he smells it, making sure it’s up to par, you complained to him yesterday that his breath stinks when he yells in your face. so he took note of that.

“you look like a loser.” Kirishima laughs at Bakugo’s nervousness, if it wasn’t for all the time he spend on himself he would’ve thrown him into a wall, he couldn’t today, not with you on the line.

“whatever.”

“dude, just walk to her room, knock, and tell her how you feel. it probably won’t come as a shock since everyone knows you have a crush on her.” his last few words make bakugo growl in curiosity.

“what the fuck do you mean, everyone knows?”

Kirishima gulps and scratches his neck, “n-no reason! I guess they all caught on like we did haha.” he laughs nervously, obviously lying.

grumbling, bakugo pushed past him on his way to your dorm.

“you got this dude!”

“yeah, sure, whatever.”

he hopes that you say yes to his proposal, you don’t even have to be his girlfriend, a simple date would make him happy. but he would love it if you were his and only his.

walking towards your door, he swallows his spit. Nervousness lingered around him, palms beginning to sweat as heat rises from them. taking in a deep breath, he knocks on your door.

“you got this.”

he waited for a bit, no answer.

huffing his breath, he knocks again, a little louder than before.

no response.

“shit,” he curses to himself.

he swore you weren’t busy around this time, and yes, he did remember your schedule. letting out a sigh, he hangs his head low.

“there’s always tomorrow—“

“always tomorrow for what?”

jumping at your voice he turns around, his cheeks burning as he sees your figure. it looks like you just left the convenience store.

he hasn’t been this nervous since the entry exam, he hasn’t been this nervous since…ever.

“uh, hey! I thought you were in your room and—“

“is all that for me?” your voice softens, walking closer you set your stuff down to take what Bakugo has from his hands.

“yeah, stupid shit I put together…don’t think your special.”

you chuckle at his statement, “thank you bakugo, even though it’s not even my birthday.”

“yeah, whatever.”

grabbing your other stuff you open your room dorm and head in, but before you shut the door your look at him.

those big, stupid, beautiful eyes of yours.

fuck, you’re beautiful…

“is that all you’re here for?” You coo, looking away nervously, he sighs.

“tch, yeah.”

smiling to yourself, you nod.

“okay well, goodnight Bakugo.”

“night.”

closing the door behind you, you set your gifts and groceries down.

5 minutes or so pass, as you settle yourself in. What just happened? why was Bakugo so damn nervous to talk to you? you’ve never seen him look so startled before.

looking at the basket that was gifted to you, you couldn’t help but smile. Taking a picture of the basket, you were about to send the picture to the “1A Chicks” group chat when you hear a banging at your door.

startled, you scurry to open the door, “Bakugo? what’s wrong?” you asked. looking at him, he frowns. “You’re what’s wrong.”

confused you shake your head, “w-what?”

rolling his eyes he curses, “fuck it.”

pushing himself into your room, you yell. closing the door behind him, you were even more confused now.

“Bakugo, what the hell is your problem?” you yell. As he walks towards you, you walk away. every step you took back, he took a step forward. slamming yourself into the wall you look up at him.

Bakugo corners himself into you, leaving no room for Jesus. pressing his body up against yours, you stare at his face, noticing how his cheeks are pink and his breathing is stagnant.

a moment of silence passes by, you noticed your noses touching. you feel his breath on your lips, warm and soft. looking into his amber eyes, you chuckle a little.

“if you’re thinking about kissing me, I’m not gonna stop you.”

Bakugo lets out a huff, “and why would I even kiss you out of all people? I hate you.” Squinting your eyes, you couldn’t help but smile at his denial.

“so you did all of this just to tell me you hated me?”

Bakugo stares into your eyes, “yeah I did.”

rolling your eyes you adjust yourself, trying to free from his grasp until he leans in. you let out a small gasp, as his lips touched yours. He was kissing you.

closing your eyes you kissed back, melting into the feeling of his lips on yours. His arm snakes around your waist, giving it a squeeze as he deepens the kiss.

this goes in for another 10 seconds until you back away for breath. the world could’ve stopped moving and the both of you wouldn’t have known. staring into each other’s eyes, scared that if you look away you’d lose this moment forever.

Bakugo leans in one more time, a quick peck before he lets go of you. he nervously puts his hands in his pockets.

“I assume you do this to all the girls you hate?” you questioned.

“no, only the ones I like,” he answered.

“so, you don’t hate me?” you laugh, he rolls his eyes at your statement.

“no I don’t hate you, I like you dumbass!” he yells.

“don’t yell at me, I just wanted you to admit it,” pulling him by his shirt you plant another kiss on his lips. a small smirk shows on his face.

“Whatever.”

DENKI KAMINARI

• has zero fucking rizz

• tries so hard to be someone he isn’t just so he can impress you.

• he just needs to realize that he doesn’t have to go all out to impress you because just being him is enough for you at the end of the day.

• at first, it was funny to his friends seeing how bad Denki would try to flirt with you.

• the cheeky one-liners were cute, but now they were starting to be just plain corny.

“woah, you’re all scuffed up from hero training today huh y/n?”

it was the end of training today for class 1-A, you were around some of your friends sitting on the ground, Denki decided to walk up and start some conversation.

“yeah, Iida got me pretty good today.” you sigh, letting out a defeated smile.

“looks like you just fell from hell!” Denki laughs.

confused, you tilt your head to the side. looking over you see Mina facepalm, Bakugo next to her pinching the bridge of his nose.

“do I look that bad?” you snort.

Denki’s eyes widened, “no you don’t! you look the opposite, that’s what I meant!” he nervously rambled.

“I-I meant to say you fell from heaven because you’re all cut up, a-and you’re an angel— because you're pretty!—“

“you think I’m pretty?” a tinge of hope carries through your tone.

“Yes!— No!— I mean—“

Watching you get up from the ground, you become quickly uninterested in the rest of his ramble. Mina frowns and lays and hand on his shoulder.

“hey, Denki, you can torture y/n some more during lunch time m’kay? we need to get changed before the bell.” Mina saves the day, pushing you away from Denki as you laugh at his awkwardness.

“nice one, playboy,” Bakugo smiles and punches Denki hard in the shoulder earning a wince from him, bakugo chuckles to himself and walks off towards the locker room.

Denki sighs in defeat before following Bakugo.

Now it was lunchtime, and everyone sat down happily eating their food as they finally get a break from their rigorous daily schedule as heroes in training.

Denki watched you from across the table, staring honestly.

He saw the way you’d laugh with Bakugo, the way you whispered into his ear, leaving the both of you to snicker to yourselves.

He hated it.

So he did something about it.

Walking over to your side of the table, he sees the way the both of you look at him. You show a soft, inviting smile his way…whilst Bakugo’s expression could be a bit better.

Sitting across from you two, he takes in a deep breath and exhales.

“CANT you see we’re having a conversation?” He spits. Denki rolled his eyes at his venomous remark.

‘god I’m going to regret this’

“Aren’t you tired of being such an asshole all of the time?” Denki snaps.

“Hah?” Bakugo leans his head to the side.

Denki snorts, you watch in amusement at his antics. This makes his ego boost.

“I mean, it’s like you’re constantly on your period or something! Like, lighten up a little man!” He laughs.

“I’m gonna light up your ass real soon toaster head if you don’t leave me alone! And I’m asking you nicely.” Bakugo growls.

“I mean…he’s a little bit right” you jump into the conversation. Watching you lean your head on your hand, he can’t help but think about how hot you look right now.

You’re helping him.

“you can be a little agitated at times” you side with Denki.

Frowning even deeper Bakugo lets out a dark chuckle, standing up from his seat he stomps over to Denki.

Denki becomes so busy looking at you look at him that he forgets that Bakugo is looking over his spirit at the moment.

You shoot him a look, telling him to look up. So he complies.

“Is there something you need?” Denki says with a snarky tone.

“get up.”

The death glare stings into his very being, bakugo’s amber-red eyes burning into Denki’s golden ones.

“Make me” a smug smirk shines brightly off of Denki’s lips.

Of course, Denki didn’t have time to revel in his interaction with Bakugo. Because the next thing he knew was that he saw a flash of light and he was flying.

He flew so fast, it felt like he flew all the way to the recovery office.

eyes fluttering open, Denki whines as the hard white lights above him shine into his eyes. Tossing on his side he curls into a ball, hugging himself closer to the bed. he groans before letting out a deep sigh.

“Denki, are you awake?” A soft voice rang out into the silence.

He knew that voice.

Quickly turning over his eyes grow wide.

“Y/n?” He breathes out, earning a half-hearted chuckle you nod. He could tell you were worried about him.

“Oh my god, Denki, what we’re you thinking back there?” you scold him.

“I…I don’t know,” Denki frowns.

“You and I both know that we shouldn’t buck up to Bakugo like that unless you’re looking for a death sentence! Why the sudden change of character?” You asked, a frown still visible on your lips.

Your lips…

Denki was going to talk about how he just felt like pissing off bakugo, but then he realized how close you were to him. Only a hands distance from your face, his eyes travel down to your pursed lips.

They look so soft, so warm, so sweet.

So his.

His brain wasn’t aware that his body was moving, it seemed like the only thing that could control him was his heart. And he knew what his heart wanted more than anything else.

And it seemed like his heart knew what you wanted too.

“Denki.” You whispered.

“Hm?” His voice was so soft, you melted at the slight raspiness of it.

“Are you trying to kiss me right now?” You asked, you bit your lips. That action makes him let out a chuckle.

You tease.

“And if I was?” He whispered, softer than the last time, his hand sliding softly onto your cheek to his and thumb and index finger sliding further down to hold your chin, he leans in a little more.

“Then I wouldn’t stop you,” you leaned in, lips touching, but only grazing.

You felt each other's warm breaths, you felt the shake of his breath travel onto your lips.

“Fuck,” Denki cursed to himself, guiding your face towards his as he closed the gap. Leaning in further you make him fall back on the bed.

Your lips attacked one another, even tho it was his first kiss he was pretty damn good at making out.

Breaths hot, teeth grazing, lips wet and soft, Denki grabbed a fist full of your hair and groans as he deepens the kiss.

There’s no way he can be doing this right now, this has to be a dream or something.

He couldn’t even think of a response until you ripped your lips off of him. Denki lets out a soft whine you could barely catch, you giggle at this.

Leaning back up, your hand caresses his face.

Denki spills.

“I didn’t know what I could do to impress you, the pickup lines weren’t working, every time I tried to flirt or compliment you it just turned into shit, and I wanted you to not see me as some loser dweeb! So I did something that I knew would get your attention-“

Leaning down again you plant a quick peck.

“Denki, you had me from the start! Cheesy one-liners and all,” you chuckled.

“Really?” Denki asks.

“Mhm, really”

EJIRO KIRISHIMA

• there’s nothing more manly than matching Kirishima’s energy

• but it’s also not manly to get so bashful over it

• you and Kirishima have been the best of friends for a while, besides Mina being the only girl within the friend group. Sometimes he forgets that you’re a girl, he feels as if you’re one of the guys.

• so sometimes, some things he says to his guy friends he says to you.

• and it’s not necessarily a bad thing, it’s just bad when other people around don’t understand the dynamic the both of you got going on.

“Hey, sexy!” You yelled.

Walking into the dorm kitchen, you slap Kirishima’s ass. Jumping, he lets out a laugh.

“Hey, there beautiful~” Kirishima coos.

Of course, everyone around them is shocked seeing such a greeting exchange take place. Except for the rest of bakusquad, duh.

Casual flirting is a thing Kirishima does with his friends, he got it from Denki and now he can’t shake it. He does it to all of his close friends, especially you.

These occurrences usually happen out of nowhere.

Like when the both of you finish sparring with one another during training:

“Y’know Kirishima, if you wanna finish off strong…land on top of me next time,” you say, a sarcastic yet seductive tone sliding off your lips.

“Really? I was really hoping you’d not complain about me pinning you face down ass up this round.”

Or when the both of you are at lunch:

“Oh my god, stop eating your food like a barbarian!” Mina squeals in disgust.

“Oh please, don’t be a cry baby. Y/n knows all about this technique right here, don’t ya?” Kirishima growls, taking a loud slurp of his noodles, he slowly swirls the noodles into his mouth.

Earning a groan from Mina and a giggle out of you.

Or that one conversation you had in class that no one speaks of:

“Kirishima, can you stop bothering me and just do your work!” You laugh.

“I could…but I won’t. I’d rather do you than do my work” he sighs, leaning back into his chair as he stretches. Letting out a groan, you can see a peek of his toned stomach come through.

Is he seriously trying to tease you right now?

“Oh really?” You snarl.

“Mhm, matter of fact. If you were my assignment, I’d work on you all day long until you’d beg to stop.”

This earns a slight blush from you, laughing it off you insult him. “If only there was actually a guy out there that could~” you sigh.

A sparkle shoots through Kirishima’s red eyes.

“You making that a bet? Because listen, honey, I’ll do you better than any man you’ll ever meet do you hear me-“

“Ejiro!”

Mr. Aizawa’s voice booms through the classroom, making the both of you jump.

“Yes sensei!” Kirishima jumps up from his seat, his face red from embarrassment.

“Detention.”

You almost pissed yourself from laughing so hard that day.

Needless to say, the both of you like to talk about fucking each other. Even though you guys always flirt like this around everybody, you’ve never done it alone.

Kirishima felt that if he crossed that boundary, it could ruin your friendship for good.

That was until one day you asked him if he wanted to binge-watch a show with you, and he agreed immediately.

He didn’t realize what that agreement came to until he was there.

“You don’t have a tv?” He says.

Rolling your eyes you chuckle, “why would I have a tv Kirishima, they’re expensive these days and you know that.”

Flopping onto your bed you grab your computer and tuck yourself under the covers.

Let him register this correctly,

You and him, alone, in the dark, under the covers, watching a tv show, on Netflix?

holy shit.

slowly crawling onto the bed, kirishima goes under the covers.

smiling at him you prop open your laptop on your computer and press play.

around 30 minutes passed, the both of you didn't talk that much besides a short witty one-liner and a snort at a funny moment from the show. either than that, it was dead silent.

a moment passes until there's a certain suggestive scene on the screen. a couple sneaking into a random back room in some laundry mat, crashing onto the floor the girl straddles him and starts to grind on him.

"oh please," you groan a slight smirk hints on your face.

perking up kirishima turns towards you, "what's wrong?"

"well...." you trail off, a wide smirk cascades over your face.

this earns a chuckle from him, "what?"

"I just think I could do way better than she can" you say.

this makes Kirishima lightly blush, thank god it was dark and the screen was only lighting the side of his face. "oh really?" Kirishima smiles, you hum with a nod.

the scene continued into a full-on sex scene, he wasn't expecting to watch such a scene with you, his face starts to burn red at this. now he was just thinking about you doing these unholy things to him.

i mean, god, he wished you were riding him that hard-

"are you blushing right now?" you snort.

eyes snapping wide, he looks at you with terror.

frantic, Kirishima slams the computer shut in embarrassment. "what the hell kiri!" you exclaimed.

"y/n, I really can't lay here and pretend that we don't have something going on between us" Kirishima's voice shakes.

the room grows silent for a moment.

"what do you mean?" you ask, voice quiet, almost a whisper.

"this! the constant flirting, the way we touch each other, the way I look at you, and the way you look at me! I mean- look at what we're doing right now! you just talked about how you wanna fuck me in your own bed for all might's sake!" Kirishima grows irritated, he's tired of hiding his feelings from you.

"I'm sorry I didn't get the memo then! fuck, you do it to everyone-"

"but I don't, everyone knows this! you and I both know that I don't talk like this to mina or bakugo, I don't even talk like this to Denki to this extent!" he yells.

"so what do you want me to do? STOP?" you snarl, irritated at his tone.

he rolls his eyes, " you and I both know I don't want that-"

"then what do you want!" you yell.

"shit, I want you, y/n!" he yells back.

his words quickly shut you up.

it becomes silent again, he hears you shuffling with your blankets and a weight it lifted from the bed. he hears you stomp towards your door, flipping the switch with force Kirishima winces at the flash of light.

eyes adjusting, he sees you with a frown on your lips, walking back towards your bed you plop onto your side of the bed. eyes locking with his you whisper, "are you serious?"

"I'm more than serious, I've kinda liked you from the beginning, I thought the flirting was a dead give away but I guess it wasn't" Kirishima scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

smiling, you crawl towards him and wrap your arms around his neck.

"so...does that mean that everything you've said to me you meant it?" a smug smirk shows on your lips. kirishima's face gets redder by the moment, he stammers.

"y-yes? I mean! do you like that I meant it?" voice nervous, the makes you giggle.

leaning in you plant a quick peck on Kirishima's lips, leaving Kirishima stunned.

"mhm," you hum.

a moment passes by, then Kirishima smiles.

"well in that case..." Kirishima lets out a mischievous grin, his hands sliding up your waist. the next thing you knew he quickly flipped you on your back, pinning your arms down you wiggled.

before you could even protest, kirishima smashes his lips against yours. pulling away kirishima whispers into your ear.

"well then, maybe we can practice some things I've been meaning to say then, hm?"

hey guys! omg, over 200 likes on my first post! ahh you guys are crazy!! I meant to put iida and deku in this headcanon but they sadly didn't make the cut. I started to get lazy sorry...

-lovelyiida<3

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 8 months

Note

I was wondering if you do fluff/sfw fics, I love your writings! If so I would request some domestic fluff with one of cillians characters, I'm a sucker for that cute cuddly shit. <3

VISIONS OF SUCH SWEET DAYS ─── neil lewis 𖦹

ೃ⁀�� “I hold you like the first time. I love your heart and all that you are. When I think of us it seems absurd to not believe in eternity.” — a letter to Albert Camus, María Casares.

pairing. neil lewis x reader

summary. domestic headcanons w/neil lewis!

warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, married life, domesticity, mutual pining, bestfriends-to-lovers

word count. 2.4k

a/n. ik this probably won’t get much attention cus theres no smut but this was sm fun to write!!! tysm anon & im so sorry requests are taking long to do😭schools taking precedent for me atm! also this wasn’t proofread i apologize😓 lastly, the title is from “apocalypse” by cigarettes after sex :)

P.S. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR 2000 FOLLOWERS AHHHH I LOVE U GUYS SM!!!

Being in a relationship with Neil Lewis doesn’t change a thing at all. Your dynamic has stayed the same since you were just friends: you two were like an old married couple-- even before you did get married.

For years, it made Jonathan and Lucien wrinkle their noses, and you ponder about the matter often, how lovey-dovey you two had actually been without even realizing it…

🎬 you used to visit him at work with takeout after he complained about forgetting his lunch over the phone. he’d light up when you walked in, why’re you here?! on his tongue before you lifted up the plastic bag, and he’d smile that boyish smile of his, warm and appreciative and so neil, the same sweet neil you’d known since you were young.

“forget your lunch again, neil?” you’d grin. “i bet you could recite the seventh seal word by word but forget if you brushed your teeth this morning.” “you wound me!” he’d press a hand to his heart, theatrically pretending he’d gotten stabbed, “you don’t have to bet— i can recite the seventh seal word by word.”

🎬 when his washer broke, and he was too busy to get it fixed, you offered to wash his laundry for him. obviously, the thought of you handling his clothes — his intimates — had him mortified, so he suggested he just come over to yours and put a load in instead. still, the day dissolved into the two of you folding your laundry side by side, humming nostalgic tunes alongside your handheld radio.

“oh, god, change the station,” he’d groan, haphazardly tossing one of his newly rolled up tube socks into a plastic laundry bin. “hm? how come?” you questioned absently. “they’re playing that song, y’know— from homecoming?” “when that girl -- what was her name, again? -- dumped you?” “ugh, don’t remind me and please, just change it already!”

🎬 with adulthood came change, and honestly, the two of you didn’t get to see each other as often as you wanted, so neil proposed that you spend at least one night a week eating dinner together. once, you decided to cook instead of eating out, but neil got impatient. he wandered over to your figure in the kitchen, whining that he was about to keel over and die since you were taking so long. you rolled your eyes, but relented, holding up the wooden spoon and letting him taste-test, asking if it was too salty or too sweet. maybe it was because he was hungry, or your food was something so nostalgic and familiar to him, but he absolutely melted at the taste, singing praises the entire night.

🎬 sometimes you & neil’s movie-nights would drift off a little too late into the night, and the two of you would fall asleep on his couch together. you’d wake up, a strained, uncomfortable tangle of limbs and blankets, but you still felt right at home— snug against neil’s warm body, his familiar scent clinging to your skin.

🎬 since neil rarely got out of the house, you made it your mission to expose that man to the sunlight as much as possible; you didn't exactly want your bestfriend to get jaundice because he was binge-watching humphrey bogart's entire filmography for days in a row. you’d take him everywhere and anywhere: the two of you would go to the sunday farmers market downtown, looking at all the booths and tents laid out, buying fresh fruit and vegetables as opposed to, what you called, “overpriced, super-market big-box store garbage”, to which, neil would say, “is this a dig at me? because you know i’m terrible at grocery shopping, i cant help buying whatever’s easiest!”

🎬 other days, you’d walk in the park side by side, taking in the fresh air and throwing bread at ducks despite the DO NOT FEED THE DUCKS sign in bright yellow, snickering like school children.

“that one looks just like you,” you’d giggle, pointing at a particularly ugly looking one, flailing about in the water and splashing its siblings. “hardy-har, that’s very funny,” neil snorted, pushing you playfully. “jokes on you, it’s probably just like the ugly duckling.” “poor neil, is this your way of telling me you were switched at birth?”

🎬 sometimes, the two of you would sneak on top of your work building’s roof and, well, people-watch, picking a random person and dictating what you thought they were doing that day.

neil pointed at a lady wearing a furry wolf costume, and you filled in what you thought. “oh, oh, she’s going to her kids' birthday! the guy they hired to be a wolf didn’t show up, so mom decided to do it herself.” “good on her, but i don’t think it's her kids birthday she’s going to…” he trailed off, and you looked at him confused, before he gestured to the fur-suit-wearing woman entering a strip club. “huh,” you’d blink, “kinky.”

🎬 despite the confidence he projects at gumshoe video, considering he dresses up in some silly costume every week, the guy is absolutely terrified at booking his own appointments. it doesn't matter what it is, dental or medical or even a haircut, he stumbles and hangs up at the slightest rise of panic within him. its funny the first few times, but you could not deal with it anymore after he was sick with something he “didn’t know” because he was too nervous to call his doctor. you booked the first few, but then you taught him, shoving the phone in his hand and pantomiming what to do silently in front of him.

“uh, um, i’d like to book my - my-“ neil froze, mind going blank. you smacked your forehead lightly in exasperation, then pretended to inject yourself with a needle. “my, um, routine-- routine vaccinations!”

🎬 it took a few tries, but he finally got the hang of it— a big achievement on his part, but your number’s still hooked up to his dentist, so you have to remind him every time that he has to book his cleaning.

Nothing about your love has changed, not a single thing from back then, and honestly, maybe you loved him the whole time. Thought there certainly is a more romantic tone to your relationship now…

🎬 waking up next to neil might be one of the sweetest sights you’ve ever seen. usually, it’s him who wakes up first— he’s a light sleeper, while you sleep like the dead. your eyes flutter open, and there he is, piercing blue eyes drifting past your every feature. his gaze is tense and consuming but tender and loving all at once; you feel like he’s seeing through you, but it's in a good way-- you want to bare your heart on your sleeve for him because he does it for you. his hands are smooth on your side, holding you close, and he brings one up to cradle your face when he notices you’re awake.

“goodmorning,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “morning, you little creep,” you grin against his skin, “do you watch me every morning?” he rolled his eyes, “not every morning… i can’t when you go to work early, obviously.”

🎬 your wedding is the funniest thing you’re ever experienced. sure, most people want it to be beautiful and perfect, but you were content with anything— hell, neil could’ve married you with just his cardboard cutout of ingrid bergman as the sole witness and you’d still swoon. it’s funny because your families have this chemical energy about them when they’re together— they get along like a house on fire, and it’s just, seriously, seriously chaotic. all your friends being there doesn’t help either, especially when you were 99% sure your other best friend, violet, was pickpocketing the plus-ones you didn’t know.

“is that your aunt, or my cousin’s girlfriend?” neil asked in a whisper, taking a large bite of your red-velvet wedding cake. “i’m not sure…” you knit your brows, “but that is lucien asking for her number.”

🎬 you had gotten sick before with neil knowing before, obviously, but living with him while you’re sick means he makes it his personal mission to cater to your every need. he supplies you with dozens of pillows and blankets if you’re chilly, and will just as quickly fling them across the room if you break out a sweat. he’s by your side the whole time, even though you protest and fume that he’ll get sick too, but he says he doesn’t care, not when the love of his life is suffering. he’s so devoted to you, and it gets downright irritating at times like these, but you can’t deny how warm being showered in his love feels; being taken care of, doted on, his wide blue eyes peering into you for any sign of discomfort at all so he can quickly fix it.

just a single could i have some water? and neil’s hauling a thirty-six pack of plastic bottles into your bedroom. “just in case,” he pants, “dehydration’s a big problem when you’re sick, okay?!”

🎬 this man is a fiend!!! for spooning. little spoon or big spoon, he does not care okay maybe he likes being the little spoon a lil bit more he just adore having you near him. when he’s the big spoon, he pulls you real close, your face in the crook of his neck as he pets the back of your head gently, your arms wrapping around his waist. it’s the perfect angle because he gets to see your darling beautiful eyes looking up at him in the way you know he folds for every time. when he’s the little spoon, hes wastes no time in curling up against you, his head resting on your chest. theres just something so comforting about the position, be it your hands running through his brown locks, your legs hooked over his, or how his hands come up under your shirt and make you shiver, but you let it happen anyway, because you know how much he loves feeling your warmth under his fingertips.

🎬 neil is terrible, downright terrible at cooking… but he is a genius when the oven mitts come out! his silly little cinephile brain apparently made ample enough space for him to hone his baking skills, and when he’s not working or watching movies or cuddling with you, he’s in the kitchen, flour unknowingly on his face as he beats the living hell out of some poor egg whites.

“c’mere,” you usher him over, your eyes crinkling at his state: he was wearing a frilly hot-pink tartan apron with a heart-shaped chest — a gag gift you got him last christmas— while he piped chocolate ganache frosting on cupcakes. he drifted over to you absently, eyes still trained on the treats. they snapped straight over to you however, when you leaned in, presumably to give him a kiss, and instead darted your tongue out to lick the frosting on his cheek. “hey!” he gasped, face flushing as he scrambled to wipe away the saliva on his face. “you could’ve just said you wanted a taste.” “wouldn’t get such a cute reaction though, now would i?” you winked.

🎬 when a song comes on that doesn’t bubble up traumatic juvenile memories, you’re quick to clasp neil’s hand on your own, letting the music take you wherever, be it in your kitchen or at gumshoe video.

“dance with me,” you said, like it was a question, but already pulling neil up by the arm off your livingroom couch. your arms hooked around his neck as his hands rested softly on your waist, a familiar and comforting pressure on the flesh as you two swayed back and forth in tune to the music. “do we have a song?” you wondered, shifting your feet on the hardwood floor and looking up at him through your lashes. “the one from our wedding, probably,” he answered, “but this can be it if you want.” it’s some song you’ve never heard before, but its a good one, something you both like. “sure,” you murmur, turning to the side and resting your head on his chest as he pulled you close, swaying still. “i love you,” you said suddenly, and you heard neil let out a soft exhale of breath. “i love you, too. i think marrying you was the best thing i ever did.” “i think letting the weird new kid sit next to me at lunch was the best thing i ever did.”

All in all, married life with Neil is a dream, and entirely what you expected: you understand him like you do breathing. this love for him is innate, ingrained within you, and you know its the same for him— the love he’s shown you this whole time is the same pure thing, a tender and married adoration.

You know your husband so well you swear you could pick him out of a group by heartbeat alone; how it skips and stutters at the sound of your voice, how his heart pumps with a love only he can provide. There’s no-one else but Neil for you-- no one.

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #neil lewis headcanons #neil lewis fluff

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chuuyrr · 9 months

Text

WOULD'VE BEEN — BEAST! DAZAI OSAMU

౨ৎ CW(s): gn! reader, beast!au, angst/romance, kinda short

౨ৎ SYNOPSIS: in which dazai osamu's timeless love for you knows no bounds, even in another life.

inspired by: timeless and enchanted by taylor swift !

it was late afternoon when dazai passes by an antique shop down the block that didn't have customers, but a voice in the back of his head urges him to stop on his tracks and check it out.

drawn towards the antique shop, dazai feels his own feet move and his hands push the door open, causing the bell at the top of the frame to chime as he steps inside.

there was an elderly lady at the cashier and maintaining the antique shop, but when she saw the man clothed in black with a bandaged eye, her face wrinkled into a warm smile as she welcomed him inside. he could see how the old lady was taken aback by his look, yet she remained kind as he was a customer.

dazai merely nods curtly in response to the old lady's greeting before wandering about the shop, unfazed of the old lady's watchful gaze.

he couldn't care less about the trinkets, keychains, and accessories in here, but then his gaze fell upon an open box of pictures, and curiosity gets the best of him when he notices the sign above the open box of old pictures, seeing how each only sold for a couple of cents.

dazai quietly finds himself reaching into the box and seeing that it contains photographs, which appear to have been taken years ago given that they are all in black and white.

he discovers an image of a couple holding hands at the porch of their first home, and then another, but this time it was a photograph of high school sweethearts, laughing and holding hands, looking so happy with genuine smiles.

all of the photographs he sees next show a kind of love that only comes along once in a lifetime.

dazai takes a long breath, his hand reflexively grasping the pictures a little too tightly, causing them to crumple slightly.

normally, something as sentimental as these photographs wouldn't make him feel anything, but when he looked at them again, he saw a different person.

dazai saw you and him instead, and he wished it had really been the two of you instead.

that's when his thoughts turned to you, and you filled his entire mind with questions after questions.

would you have looked at him in the same way just like the lover to his beloved in the photos did? even in the middle of a crowded street?

perhaps in another life, dazai muses as he puts the images back in the box—just not in this one, sadly.

dazai keeps wandering around the antique shop, discovering new things like a stack of books covered with cobwebs.

he takes one in his hand and silently flips through the pages, which are already brown and worn from time, and it doesn't take him long to realize it's a diary. but as he reads the sentences in quiet, he finds himself scoffing, his gaze narrowing as he picks up on the story in it.

what was this antique shop doing to him?

was it to rub in his face of what could've been?

it was just cruel and twisted.

the bell by the door opening brings him back to reality as he feels the heavy burden on his shoulders again. dazai sighs to himself as puts the cobweb-covered book back and turns his head, ready to leave now that there is another customer in the antique shop besides him.

but dazai is unable to move and stands still, completely surprised, by what he sees.

"oh, my. why haven't i come here before?" you exclaim in a soft gasp of wonder as you look around the antique shop with curiosity.

it was you in all your grandeur, looking the same as you did in another life, still smiling warmly, and he is amazed and falls in love all over again at the sight of you in front of him.

the story breaks down his mind and body as it seems to halt when you walk into the shop, catching his eyes and finding the story starting when your eyes finally meet his and you speak.

"hello," your voice was as soothing and kind as it had always been, and it sounded like music to his ears, and dazai had missed it so much.

he notices you tilting your head to the side and hears your eyes ask, "have we met before?"' and felt the want to scream yes.

to tell you how long he had been waiting and longing to see you again in this life, but dazai knows he can't as his breath hitches.

"s-sir? are you okay?" your concerned voice surprises him. you were much closer now.

"huh?" was all he could utter in confusion.

dazai sees you rummaging through your pockets and pulls out a handkerchief, only for you to hand it to him before pointing it out to him, "sir, you're crying."

oh.

he never cries. he never did in his lifetime, but it appears that even in this world, you still hold his heart for him to do so. as dazai blinks, he notices how fuzzy his vision has become as a result of his tears filing his eyes and dampening the bandages covering his left eye.

he shakily reaches for your handkerchief, tears welling up in his eyes as his fingers grazes your warm skin. even your touch in this world was the same as it had always been.

"i'm sorry.. thank you.." dazai exhales, his sullen expression suddenly hidden by an exasperated fit of laughter as he wipes his tears with your handkerchief.

as he finishes, he hands you back your handkerchief, which you accept with a smile.

"it's no problem, but are you sure you're okay, sir?" you ask again, your face concerned.

"hmm? oh, yes. i'm fine, love," dazai laughs and shrugs it off as nothing, "i was going through old photographs and stuff here in this shop and got a bit sentimental, and then i saw you."

"i see, i see," you say softly with a small giggle, shaking your head, "well, i'm sorry to bother you, sir. i'm glad you're okay."

"no need for that, dear. i should be the one apologizing for worrying you," dazai insists with a smile, a genuine smile as he waves his hand.

he sees you nod and smile again before you excuse yourself and move past him to look around the store.

as dazai turns his head over his shoulder, he finds you conversing with the kind old lady of the antique shop while digging through the things you found interesting and charming.

as he recalls the images and book he read over earlier while staring at you at this instance, memories flood his head.

dazai had found you again, and even in another life, you made his head swirl, and all he could think of was how you could have still been his.

if only the story had gone back to the beginning page instead of where it was about to conclude. despite his thoughts echoing your name and filled his mind with memories of you from the other realities, it was already too late.

the pieces were already in place, and how could he take this away from you? to see you happy and safe, thriving in a life where you were just a regular citizen, not a member of an armed detective agency or anything..

and he couldn't stop thinking about one thing;

the regret of not being able to share and live this life with you.

where you could have been his,

where you and dazai could have been the ones in the old photographs he saw earlier,

and where you could have said you two were truly timeless.

nonetheless, dazai is grateful for meeting you again and falling in love with you. he has always loved you in every universe after all.

even in this separate life, even though fate has torn you two apart in this reality.

"we would've been timeless," dazai murmurs softly to himself before leaving the antique shop, his head and heart laden with grief.

=͟͟͞♡˖ ° niki says ! ༉‧₊˚.

sigh, the kind of things miss taylor swift makes me write with the songs she wrote 💔 oh, and i am also dedicating this beast! dazai fic to @anqelically and @ruru-kiss !! (already hugging you both in advance because 🫂🥲)

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x y/n #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x you #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd oneshot #bsd angst #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #dazai scenarios #dazai imagines #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x y/n

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ichorai · 3 months

Text

letters of loki ; david loki (m).

pairing ; david loki x reader (afab, gender-neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; nsfw alphabet + micro-drabbles for each letter.

words ; 4.0k

themes ; smut, fluff, barely-there angst, established relationship

warnings / includes ; mentions of scars, unprotected sex, mentions of bondage, oral sex, light roleplay, 'honey' as a pet name, david being exhausted </3

a/n ; been in a terrible fic-writing slump so i tried out the nsfw alphabet format for the first time! hope you all enjoy :)

main masterlist.

A — AFTERCARE

Definitely the kind to hold you close after the act, his arms firmly wrapped around your waist, his nose buried into your shoulder. David’s mostly silent, but would gladly listen and hum along if you wanted to start up any kind of pillowtalk. He just likes hearing the sound of your voice. Eventually, however, he’d get up to take a shower (he’s a creature of habit, after all), and bring you anything you needed, like a glass of water or a damp towel.

“Your hair’s wet,” you mumbled in complaint when he slipped back under the covers after his brief shower. His cold hands slipped beneath the wrinkled button-up shirt you were wearing (his, he realized a second later), and you made a disgruntled noise.

“Sorry, honey,” he replied with a soft huff of a laugh, but made no move to shift away. Instead, he pressed closer, kissing a warm spot just above your ear.

B — BODY PART

David’s favorite body part of yours would definitely be your hips. Or your eyes. Or your thighs. If you were to ask him, he’d give you a different answer every single time. There’s so much he loves about you, he can hardly pick just one. Though, he really does have a particular fondness for holding onto your hips, even in a non-sexual manner. He also loves any and all of your moles, scars, or birthmarks. Would press kisses against them because he finds them so beautiful in their uniqueness, and it makes him feel close to you. He thinks tattoos are hot as fuck on you too—especially the small ones in the most random places.

Your favorite body part on him would be his hands. He found it strange at first, how your fingers always found his, how you’d spend hours in bed simply staring at his knuckle tattoos, tracing over every inked etch and every bruise, scar, and callous. It didn’t come much of a surprise to him when he found that you liked the sight of his hand pressing down on your lower stomach as he fucked into you. It got you going—and whatever gets you going, gets him going, too.

The movie the two of you had put on was entirely forgotten. He was on the ground, knelt down in front of you, tongue tracing utter sin along your soaked cunt. And his hands—oh, his hands—one was gripping on your right thigh with iron-strength, forcing you apart to make space for his insatiable self pressing against you. The other hand was intertwined with your left palm, squeezing every once in a while, as if in reassurance. How sweet of him to hold your hand while he utterly destroyed you.

C — CUM

He’s a classic man—he likes to cum inside of you the most, but wouldn’t mind seeing it all over your tummy or over the inside of your thighs. If he was to make a mess, he would immediately clean it up with a damp towel after, asking if you were okay.

“Gonna cum inside you—that okay, honey?” he grunted right by your ear, one hand splayed over your stomach, pressing with just the right amount of pressure, and the other gripping your hip tightly.

“Yes—yes, please, David,” you moaned, breath catching at his name as you moved to lay your hands over his so you could squeeze them earnestly. “Need you to fill me up.”

Just the sound of your voice was enough to push him over the edge. He pistoned his hips against yours a few more times until he doubled over with a gruff noise, hot cum filling your throbbing pussy until it leaked out around his still semi-hard cock.

D — DIRTY SECRET

There’s a set of handcuffs in the bedside drawer just for emergencies. But David’s always wanted to ask if you’d be willing to try it out in bed. He’s not even entirely sure if he would enjoy that, since he prefers to keep his work separate from home, but the thought of you trusting him enough to keep you bound to the bed wasn’t exactly unappealing.

David could only imagine how beautiful you’d look with your wrists up above your head, cuffed to the headboard as you looked up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. How the metal would look like against your skin as you tugged and begged for him to let you touch him—

“David?” you asked with a mildly curious tone, jolting him out of his thoughts. His head turned to you, in your soft pajamas, having just brushed your teeth and washed your face. You were about to slip into bed. “You okay? What are you thinkin’ about?”

“Nothing, hon. Let’s go to sleep.”

E — EXPERIENCE

He knows what he’s doing, but he hasn’t been with a lot of people before you. Two or three one-night stands, and maybe one barely-there relationship that didn’t last very long. Before you came along, he hardly had enough time to sleep, much less concern himself with having flings. Once he met you, he was much more determined to reorganize himself so he could make time for you.

The diner was buzzing with activity that night. You were sipping on a strawberry milkshake, telling him about how you’d love to see a jaguar in person one day. He was smiling, thinking about how beautiful you were, even beneath the harsh lighting of the diner. And then—then it was all spoiled, because he caught sight of his ex in another booth. It hadn’t ended well—she left in a fit of anger and tears, frustrated that David hardly ever made time for her anymore.

Almost immediately, you noticed his change of demeanor, and reached over the table to take his hand. His tense muscles relaxed just a bit. Something you always managed to do with very little effort—it was an uncanny talent of yours.

“You wanna get out of here?” you offered. If you noticed his ex, you didn’t say anything. For that, he was grateful. “We can watch a movie at home.”

“That sounds great, actually.”

F — FAVORITE POSITION

Loki’s got a particular fondness for reverse cowgirl. Don’t get him wrong, he loves missionary and doggy too, but there’s just something about reverse cowgirl that itches him in just the right way. He likes reaching over to press down on your stomach from behind while he pounds into you, and he also likes how it’s easy access to your clit. Plus, you really enjoy hearing the gruff noises he makes right by your ear, so you’re not at all complaining.

“David!” you cried out, voice strained with ecstasy.

“I hear you, baby. Moan for me,” he muttered from behind you, sweaty chest pressed flush against your back. David glanced down and gave a guttural noise upon seeing a creamy ring of your combined arousals at the base of his cock. Another erotic sigh fell from you when he reached down to rub circles over your clit, making you keen with shocked arousal.

G — GOOFY

Very rarely would sex with David be light-hearted or humorous. The two of you are usually far too caught up in a pleasure-ridden haze. But if you happened to start laughing or smiling, he’d give you a loving half-grin before making it his mission to get you back into a moaning mess.

“That tickles,” you half-laughed when he skimmed his fingers up your sides, smiling up at him. He only barely made a humming noise before he thrust back into you—and the grin melted right off your face.

H — HAIR

He takes good care of his hygiene. Granted, he’s usually preoccupied with work to spend too much time grooming himself, but he keeps things clean down there. He also knows you’re a big fan of his slicked-back hair, so he does take the time to make himself look presentable in the morning. You’d also told him once while he was shaving that you liked how he looked with a beard—he’d really have to consider growing it out for you.

“I like how it looks,” you told him one morning before he had the chance to shave. “Your stubble. I think you’d look so hot with a beard.”

“You think so?”

“You should try it. That caveman look. It’ll suit you.”

I — INTIMACY

David can be incredibly romantic when he wants to be. Flowers and your favorite takeout are things he’d grab for you on the way back from work. He’s a detective—he studies you, observes all your likes and interests, and he’s a very fast learner to top it off. Kisses during sex are also not uncommon, and he would definitely press his lips along your neck or on your cheek, whether he’s on top or behind you. And, as mentioned before, he does hold your hand a lot. When he’s feeling more affectionate than usual, he’d murmur how good you are for him in your ear.

“You feel so good, honey. Doin’ so good for me,” he groaned, firm arms curled around your waist as he bucked his hips into you. At his praise, you arched your back so you’d press further into him, a breathless keen falling from your lips.

“Yeah?” David asked in smug approval. “You like that? You like being good for me, hm?”

J — JACK OFF

He rarely ever masturbates, because he’s got you around. And because he’s working so much. He feels as if it’s a waste of time if it’s not with you. But on the rare occasion you were out of town for longer than usual, he’d give into the temptation in the shower just once, imagining his wet fist was your warm cunt.

He missed you more than anything. All he could think about was you and your smile, your laugh, your beautiful hips and legs and thighs—

Fuck, even the cold shower he was standing under wasn’t helping his hard-on go away. With a muffled noise of frustration, David switched the water over to scalding hot, and curled a sopping hand over his throbbing cock. He leaned his forehead against the condensated tiles and closed his eyes, thinking about you and your delicious fucking moans.

K — KINK

Mentioned before, but handcuffs! He likes that you trust him enough to be at his mercy, and he also thinks you look incredibly hot tied up. Another would be when you tell him what you want him to do to you—that gets him going so good. David also loves when you tug at his hair right at the root—makes his eyes roll right to the back of his head. He also really doesn’t mind when you scratch your nails down his back. Seeing the red marks afterwards feels like an award more than anything.

It surprised him just how good it felt when your nails lightly scratched at his scalp. He peered up at you from his position (between your gorgeous thighs), tongue dragging torturously over your sensitive clit. It surprised him even more when you took fistfuls of his hair and tugged with just the right amount of pressure. He made a noise of approval right against your cunt, the vibrations making your back arch so that your cunt pressed up closer to his face.

L — LOCATION

In bed is his go-to, since the two of you would usually have sex super late at night or really early in the morning. The couch in your living room is also home to lots of impromptu sex, mostly during the weekends. The kitchen counter and the dining table aren’t exempt, either.

The stir-fry you were cooking up crackled and popped in the pan, just about ready. From behind, David’s arms wove around your waist, his nose running along the curvature of your neck. It was only when you felt his stiff hardness against your back did you halt your ministrations.

“Here?” you asked with a sweet smile, turning your head to the side so you could see his sheepish expression.

“Here’s good,” he replied, before turning the stove off for you and crowding you up against the kitchen counter.

M — MOTIVATION

Your voice gets him worked up the most. Especially when you make it go all low and you whisper right into his ear—he gets hard just from the thought of it. You could be talking about the most asinine topics, and he’s looking at you like you’re already begging him to fuck you. Whenever you wear his clothes, too—preferably with nothing underneath—it just makes you all the more irresistible to him.

It was rare for the both of you to wake up lazy, with no plans for the rest of the day. But today—today was a miraculous weekend where both of your off-days lined up. And so that only meant you got to lounge around wearing David’s shirt, whispering pure filth into his ear so he’d push you up against the closest surface and fuck you with no abandon. It was simply heaven.

N — NO

Anything that could potentially really hurt you. He’s alright with a little bit of spanking here and there, but slapping you across the face is a hard no from him. He already sees quite a bit of abuse and violence at work, the last thing he’d want to do is replicate that with you. David can call you dirty names if you’d like, too, but he’s not very keen on being on the receiving end of it. Reminds him of his military school days. And, if it wasn’t obvious, none of the typical “gross” kinks, like piss and shit. He’s not into that at all.

“Before we do this,” David started, trying his best to quell his racing heart, despite the fact that he’s slept with you three times prior to this. It was all still so new to him. “I just wanted to make sure—you’ll let me know if you’re uncomfortable, right? Or if I hurt you in any way, okay? I need to know if you’re not… enjoying it.”

“Okay, David,” you said with a serious nod, wrapping your legs about his waist. “I promise I’ll let you know.”

O — ORAL

Loves giving and receiving equally. On days where he’s come from work utterly exhausted and too tired to fuck you, he’d have you hanging right by the edge of the bed, where he’s kneeling on the ground, licking lazy patterns up and down your aching core. Eating you out also makes for brilliant foreplay—David likes to tease it out, and he especially likes the way you tug at his hair and groan out his name. As for receiving, he loves to pull your hair just as much, low moans of appreciation falling from his lips.

It was heaven between your legs, he thought, brows knitting together as he hiked your thighs up higher on his shoulders so he could properly bury his face into you sopping pussy. The noises you were making were going straight to his cock, which ached within the confines of his trousers. Even when you’d come twice from his tongue, David just kept going, humming in amusement when you began to whine with overstimulation.

P — PACE

It really depends on the day. Sometimes he wants to burn off some steam and frustration—goes all rough and quick until both of you are seeing stars. Other days he takes it slow, drawing it out to savor it as long as he can, drenching the sheets with both sweat and cum.

“David—David, honey,” you cried out into the mattress, fists curling against the sheets. His cock was hitting all the right places inside of you, so fucking deep. “Please, please, go faster.”

He let out a guttural noise when you tightened around him. “No, no, honey… I’m taking my time with you today. Wanna make you feel every inch of me.”

Q — QUICKIE

Much to his chagrin, the weekdays usually leave him no other choice than a quickie. He’d certainly prefer it if he had the option to take his time with you, but David makes the most out of it regardless. You certainly don’t seem to mind—though, you’ve convinced him to come in late to work a handful of times.

“I’m gonna be late for work,” David grunted right into your mouth as he pounded into you. The squelching sound of his cock hammering into your throbbing cunt was enough to leave his cheeks warm and flushed. “It’ll be all your fault, honey.”

You clutched onto his shoulders, your forehead drooping down onto his cheek, far too delirious to come up with a coherent response.

R — RISK

He’d be more than willing to try out new things with you. He’s especially a big fan of when you come to him proposing a new position to try out. However, David isn’t likely to try out anything new on his own, so it’s all up to you. He’s just happy to do whatever you want to do.

“Hey, David?”

Your boyfriend glanced up from the paper he was reading, brows quirked.

“Well, uhm,” you wrung your hands together, with a sheepish expression, “I was wondering if we could… try something out in bed tonight.”

David blinked once, twice, and a third time. He put the paper down. “Of course, hon,” he said, a soft smile playing at the corner of his lips, “We can do whatever you want.”

S — STAMINA

Usually only one or two rounds since he’s already so worn out from his job but you can easily work him up into a third round if you really wanted to. The rounds can last pretty long, though—he’s good at pacing himself and also makes sure that you’re feeling good, too.

“Again?” he panted with a tired grin when you rolled him over so you could clamber onto his lap, grinding your slickened cunt against his spent cock.

“Mhm,” you replied, nodding. Your hair was a complete mess—David took pride in being the reason you looked so sexily disheveled. “You don’t even have to do anything. Just—lay there and let me take care of you.”

“Can’t argue with that.” David’s muttered words tapered off into a low groan when you sank down onto him.

T — TOY

He wouldn’t own any toys of his own but if you owned a vibrator he’d definitely tease you with it during foreplay. Not at all the kind to be insecure about you using toys—in fact, he’s glad you have a way to feel good on your own whenever he’s not around to take care of you. Independence is incredibly sexy to him, after all.

The gentle buzz of the vibrator against your clit made you buck your hips up, to which David only let out an amused hum of laughter. One of his hands pressed down on the expanse of your stomach to keep you pinned down onto the bed.

“Stop squirming around, honey,” he muttered, teeth nipping at the inside of your thigh. “Relax—let me make you feel good.”

U — UNFAIR

David can be a huge tease if he wanted to be—he knows the exact buttons to press to work you up until you’re right there, but he’d pull away just before you could cum. Would have a wide, smug grin on his face, but he’s quick to cave once you start moaning out his name.

“Why’d you stop?” you huffed, breathless, propping yourself halfway-up with your elbows so you could look down at him. The lower half of his face was covered with your arousal.

“Hm?” The faux noise of confusion aggravated you to no return. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shot you a cocky smile, before kissing up your stomach.

V — VOLUME

He’s not very loud, mostly quiet grunts and the occasional murmur against your skin. He’d much rather hear you—he loves it when you cry out for him, and tell him how good he feels against you.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he plowed into you—you could feel the vibrations of his breathless groans and choked grunts. With a particularly hard thrust, your pussy walls shuddered and clenched around him, the lewd cry you let out enough to etch a permanent blush over David’s cheeks.

W — WILD CARD

Roleplay wouldn’t even be something he thinks of doing but if you brought it up, he’d find it so incredibly hot if he pretended he was arresting you before bending you over a table and fucking you senseless.

“You gonna punish me, detective?” you asked with a coy smile, hand trailing down his chest, toying with the buckles of his belt.

David blinked at you—trying his best not to break character. With firm hands, he yanked your fingers away from his belt and twisted your arm around over your back, crowding you against the table. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and may be used against you in a court of law.”

It took all it had in him not to laugh when you let out an aroused moan.

X — X-RAY

Size really doesn’t matter because he knows how to pleasure you regardless, but he’s definitely quite girthy. The first few times he had sex with you, he’d take it slow because he really didn’t want to hurt you and he was stretching you out so good.

“You’re so big,” you whispered as he carefully eased you onto his cock, hands gripping your hips tight. “Was worried you wouldn’t fit when we first had sex.”

David let out something akin to a hiss and a groan, his forehead leaning against yours.

Y — YEARNING

David’s sex drive isn’t all that high. It was mentioned before that you could work him up most of the time if you wanted to but unprompted, David would be just fine with having sex around once a week, especially since the two of you are so busy with work and quite tired when off it.

“We haven’t had sex in a while,” he whispered as he clambered into bed.

You muffled a yawn behind a fist. “Do you want to now?”

David rubbed at the corner of his eye, also fighting back a yawn. “I’m exhausted.”

“Me too.” The two of you laid down beneath the comforter, curling into your favorite positions like magnets snapping together. “In the morning, then?”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, planting a chaste kiss on your shoulder and watching your eyelids slide shut.

Z — ZZZ

Sleep is hard to come by for David, so he’s usually up for a while after sex. Just holding you, listening to you breathe, his nose pressed against your shoulder. He likes watching you sleep—not in a weird, creepy way, obviously, but he just likes how peaceful and restful you look. He finds that he sleeps much better with you around. Still doesn’t get enough hours, but it’s much more restful compared to his nights without you.

You collapsed into the mattress face-first with a satisfied noise, which was muffled into your pillow. Sweat glistened on both of your bodies, but neither of you had the energy to go wash up before bed. David’s eyes darted down to your legs, suppressing a grin when he saw his spend smeared between your thighs.

“You’re too good, David,” you muttered, having turned your face away from the pillow, shooting him a lazy, blissed-out smile.

Funny, he thought you were too good for him. His arms curled around you. “G’night, hon.”

“Night, David.”

#david loki x reader #detective loki x reader #jake gyllenhaal x reader #david loki fanfiction #detective loki fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal fanfiction #david loki smut #detective loki smut #prisoners 2013 #prisoners fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal smut #david loki fluff

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cuubism · 6 months

Note

PLEAAE write dreamling pregnancy crackfic you MUST and PLEASE include Sad Crying I Forgor cat dream

Behold, lovely anons, some nonsense.

---

“Um, Dream,” says Hob, staring at the tiny plastic stick sitting on his bathroom countertop, “what is that.”

Dream comes to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder. “It is a pregnancy test.”

“Yeah, why?” Hob picks it up, squinting down at it. “And why is it negative?”

He realizes a second later that the first question out of his mouth should, in fact, have been why the fuck do you have a pregnancy test? Unless it’s not Dream’s and someone just broke into his flat and left it there, which might actually be less weird.

“Presumably because I am not human,” says Dream.

Hob puts the test down. Turns around, takes Dream by the shoulders, and steers him out of the bathroom. Once they’re back in the living room, he means to say a number of things, but all that comes out of his mouth is, “What.”

“The test does not work because I am not human,” Dream repeats. He’s definitely being deliberately obtuse now, if he wasn’t before.

A million questions swirl in Hob’s mind, and a rising swell of panic. He mentally shakes himself. Forces himself to get it together. He’s not a seventeen-year-old kid who got a girl pregnant. He can handle his shit.

He holds Dream still by the arms. Tilts his head until Dream meets his eyes. “Dream, do you have something that you want to tell me? In words, maybe?”

Unless he doesn’t know. But he’s like, a concept, how could he not know?

Wait, is this why Hob was having random dreams about babies last week? He is going to kill this man.

Well, he’s going to give him a hug first. Then he’s going to kill him.

Dream looks into his eyes. Oh God, he’s serious now. So this wasn’t all just for kicks, not that Dream really does things for kicks, anyway. “Hob, I am—”

Hob hauls him into an embrace before he can finish the sentence. Perhaps he should let Dream say it. But he can’t not hug him.

Dream relaxes into his hold. Hob hadn’t realized how tense he was until he did. Oh, poor thing. Just because they’re not young people floundering about on the precipice of adulthood doesn’t mean it’s not stressful. Especially that in between moment, when he knows, and Hob doesn’t.

“I have known for a few weeks now,” Dream says, face pressed to Hob’s shoulder. “Are you upset?”

“No, of course not.” Upset? He’s having their child and Hob’s upset? He supposes they didn’t exactly plan it, but, when has he ever planned anything when it comes to Dream?

He pulls back at last, kisses Dream’s temple, and steers him over to sit down on the couch. He sits beside him, their knees touching. Takes Dream’s hand and squeezes it. “If you already knew, then why did you bother to use the test?”

“I was curious if it would work,” says Dream.

Somehow, Hob doesn’t think that’s the whole truth. “Please tell me you weren’t just going to leave it somewhere and let me guess?”

“I would have crafted some more dreams as well,” Dream says. Blasted idiot. Why is Hob in love with him? Oh yeah, because he’s even more of an idiot.

“Wasn’t picking up on it,” Hob says. “I didn’t think this was possible, to be honest. We’ve just been recklessly having unprotected sex for how long? And you never thought to mention this was a possibility?”

“I forgot,” Dream says morosely, the most pitiable frown on his face. “It is not as straightforward as it is for humans. But yes, it is possible. Evidently. I suppose I have been caught up in the… joy of our moments together. I have not had a lover in a long time.”

“Oh, love.” Hob holds him close, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “It’s alright. It’s my fault, really. I should have asked. Wrap it before you tap it, Hob.”

Dream wrinkles his nose at the phrasing. Hob kisses him on the tip of his nose.

“Maybe I was thinking about it a little bit,” Hob admits. The thought has definitely… crossed his mind, before. And it’s easy to get drawn in, when Dream is in his bed, when he looks so gorgeous, when Hob makes love to him and fills him and—

Oh, this is his fault. This is absolutely his fault. He’d thought it was a safe fantasy to indulge in, impossible in reality. Meanwhile he was fucking one of the few beings made of both fantasy and reality at once. Hob’s really the king idiot.

“A little bit?” echoes Dream, raising an eyebrow.

Hob cringes. “A lot a bit?”

Unexpectedly, Dream smiles. “You are happy, then.”

Hob goes still, staring at him. “Did I not say?”

“You expressed that you were not upset,” says Dream. “Which is not the same thing as being happy.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” Hob holds him closer, kisses his cheek, his brow, the corner of his lips. “I love you so much. I’m so happy.”

“Truly?”

Hob kisses him on the lips this time, long and deep. Takes Dream’s face in his hands and caresses his cheeks. “Truly. Obviously.”

Dream hums, sounding pleased.

“Are you happy?” Hob asks. Though he suspects Dream would have been rather obvious in his displeasure if he wasn’t, he usually is.

“I believe so,” says Dream carefully. “I… would like to be. Only, I have failed before, when I had a child.” Hob pulls far enough away to look at him. Dream’s expression has twisted now. “I do not wish to repeat that.”

“You won’t.” Dream looks unconvinced, so Hob repeats it. “You won’t. You’ve learned from that. So have I.” Hob certainly made many of his own mistakes with Robyn. But he still wants to try again.

“There are many terrible endings to this story,” Dream says. Of course, Hob’s just looking at the beginning of the thing, and Dream’s looking at the whole arc, especially the end.

“And good ones,” Hob says. “I promise. I’ll do everything I can to make it good.”

“I do believe that,” says Dream, finally offering him a small smile. “You have been able to make many things good for me when I thought it impossible.”

That might just be the greatest success of Hob’s life. To make Dream see that things can be good.

“It will be good,” he vows. “You’ll see, darling.” And Dream smiles again.

Hob lays his hand over Dream’s lower belly. He doesn’t know if this pregnancy even has a physical component at all—Dream himself barely has a physical component sometimes—but it’s instinct to hold him there.

Hob can already feel himself wanting to coddle him. He’s going to have to stop himself from doing that, he highly doubts Dream will appreciate it. He has to remind himself that what happened with Eleanor won’t happen again this time, that modern medicine is so much better, and that Dream isn’t even human in the first place. For all he knows, the baby will just be born out of the clouds.

“Hob,” says Dream. “You are drifting.”

Hob shakes himself. “Sorry, love.”

“What were you thinking of?” Dream presses, brow pinching. “I felt the nature of the daydreams turn… darker.”

Hob grimaces. “It’s really nothing. Just me in my head, you know.”

Dream keeps looking at him expectantly.

Hob sighs. “It’s just, it didn’t go so well last time, with Eleanor, you know? And I know this is different, you’re different, so just be patient with me if start being a mother hen, yeah?”

“Hob…” Dream takes his hand, interlacing their fingers. “I’m sorry, I had not considered. Do you not want…?”

“No! I do want this. I just worry, is all.” He kisses Dream’s cheek. “It’s because I love you. Couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you.”

“I must do what I can to make it good, then,” Dream says, and Hob smiles at the turnabout of his words. “You need not worry. There is no danger to me. And the baby is not human, besides.”

"It's not?" Hob supposes it's not that much of a surprise. "What is it, then?"

“I am not quite sure. I expect it will become evident soon.” He rests his hand over Hob’s, which is still on his stomach, and he looks fond now. “Perhaps once I can see its dreams.”

“You can see its dreams?”

Dream casts him an amused look. “I am made up of those dreams. And all others. Why should our baby be different?”

Our baby. It’s so affecting to hear him say it like that.

“Our baby,” Hob repeats, just for the sound of it.

“Yes,” says Dream. He sounds properly happy now, which is so lovely to hear. “Ours.”

“Well, now I’m glad we forgot to talk about magical birth control,” Hob says. “Irresponsible sex for the win! Now I get to meet our magical baby.”

“I have never known you to be a man particularly driven by responsible decision-making,” Dream says solemnly.

Hob gapes at him. “Hey!” It’s true, though. It’s all true. “I’ll be the most responsible parent you ever saw. I’ll only let them have the iPad for twenty-three hours a day instead of twenty-four.”

“I can create fantastic spectacles to which the likes of ‘Cocomelon’ cannot hope to compare,” Dream says indignantly, as if this was really an open question in Hob’s mind.

“You can be in charge of screen time, then,” Hob tells him, and Dream’s scowl shifts into a smile.

“When do I need to be ready for this?” Hob asks. “Is it like a nine months thing, or…?”

“Unclear,” says Dream. Fantastic. Typical. For all Hob knows, Dream will show up with a whole baby in his arms tomorrow. Either that or it’ll be a hundred years from now. “I suspect there will be an element of surprise.”

Of course. Dream’s sense of time passing is pretty bad at the best of times, why would the baby be any different?

“I’ll have to get to the shops, then, seeing as I don’t currently own an iPad,” Hob says.

Dream hands him one that definitely was not in existence a moment ago.

“Did you get that—”

“From a dream, yes.”

Hob stares at it in wonder for a moment, wondering if it even has normal apps, or strange ones only dreamt of, then sets it on the coffee table. “Well, Christmas shopping with you will be a cinch.”

Dream is quiet for a moment. “I would not wish to burden you with these things,” he finally says. “To upend your life when you are already well-occupied.”

“Nope, none of that.” Hob takes Dream’s hands and pulls them close. “First of all, I’m very old and can afford to buy a lot of iPads, so don’t worry about it. But more than that, I love you.” He taps Dream’s belly, though he still doesn’t know exactly how or where this not-human baby is meant to grow. “And you. So don’t think like that. I know I can’t expect a nine-to-five, normal daily schedule from you. I’ve never expected that from you.” As of now, Dream just visits whenever he can, often at odd hours. Hob doesn’t expect he’ll be able to change that much, even now. He is still Dream above all else.

Dream doesn’t deny it, either. He looks down at their joined hands. “Would that it were otherwise.”

Hob rubs his thumb back and forth over his knuckles. “It’s okay. I needed some new excitement in my life anyway. Besides—” he gestures to the dream-iPad—DreamPad? Dream will hate that name, so Hob will definitely have to use it—“even if we can’t always have you, we’ll have your stories, hm?”

Dream smiles, then, a fragile smile. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Course it is.” Hob kisses his cheek. “We’ll figure it out, love. Don’t worry.”

“That is one skill you certainly do possess,” says Dream—in contrast, Hob supposes, to his lack of rational decision-making. “‘Figuring it out.’”

“My PhD is in Winging It,” Hob agrees. “Speaking of, though, we are going to have to have an actual talk about how not to have another ‘surprise’.”

“Yes,” Dream agrees ruefully. He seems quite embarrassed about it, actually, and Hob can’t help but hug him again, squeezing him tight, kissing his cheek and temple. Despite the shock and confusion, Hob really is happy, powerfully so. A baby, his and Dream’s baby. He can’t even imagine the possibility of it.

Dream squirms under the attention, but hums, seeming pleased deep down.

“A little baby Dream,” Hob sighs. “They will be a terror.”

Dream raises an eyebrow. “And you think your influence has no effect on that?”

“I was a delightful child,” Hob protests.

“Do not tempt me to draw proof to the contrary from your dream records,” Dream warns.

“You’ll be a terror,” Hob says. “‘No, Da, I definitely didn’t cheat on that exam,’ ‘Mm, that’s not what your dream at 2:34 am indicates.’”

“Precisely,” says Dream. He sounds quite proud of himself, really. Little nightmare.

Hob kisses him again, on the lips this time. Yes, they will definitely be absolute terrors, the both of them.

But it would be boring otherwise.

#dream communicate in words challenge level impossible #pregnancy storylines are weird for me this was odd to write but i hope it's amusing XD #ask #anonymous #my writing #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #cw pregnancy #cw mpreg

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