#okay the road trip was cute and chill

[slav-every-day]

[l0vergirlwrites]

how do i know it’s true? ; steve harrington

synopsis: to steve, nothing involving the upside down could surprise him after everything him & the gang have gone through. until you get taken by vecna—the worst thing steve has ever witnessed.

warnings: swearing, mentions of trauma, blood & injuries, anxiety, possibility of dying, possession, general angst & vecna (yes, that creepy dude needs his own warning). but don’t worry, there’s fluff scattered in between.

note: this fic is inspired by the blue nile’s “the downtown lights” (let’s pretend it came out before season 3 plz) & phoebe bridgers’ “garden song”!

for a moment, everything was fine.

well, your definition of fine was watching your friends climb up a makeshift rope of bed sheets from the upside down gate in eddie’s trailer. you couldn’t help but let out a few laugh sat their reactions when they landed on the mattress eddie had placed beneath the gate as a landing pad.

this was your normal now; casually going in & out of dimensions to solve supernatural puzzles & attempt to save the day all while wondering if you were ever going to finish your algebra homework (you secretly knew you wouldn’t ever find the time).

steve, being the helpful man he’s known to be, was kneeled on the ground with his hands cupped so he could hoist each person up towards safety despite his abdomen aching in pain from bat bites. he truly was your hero.

when it came to be your turn to climb, you couldn’t help but run a hand through his hair.

“chivalry sure isn’t dead, huh?” you ruffled his locks of brown & amber, feeling your heart beat a second faster when he smiled & scrunched his nose cutely at your action.

“definitely not when it comes to you” he winked smoothly, feeling pride in his chest when you grinned wider at him.

“okay, time to hop on up miss”

gripping onto the rope of sheets, you felt a pit in your stomach start to build, but steve tapping the back of your jean covered thigh snapped you out of it.

“i gotcha, don’t worry” he assured with a determined look in his eyes.

like hell he was ever gonna drop you.

so with a nod of your head, you lifted your left foot onto steve’s cupped hands & felt him push you up.

but then everything went black.

at first, you thought your nervous system may of just forced you to shut your eyes in fear of going head first & falling upside down through the gate (you still could not fathom the physics that explained how it worked), but to no avail, all you saw was black.

soon enough, you couldn’t feel the rope.

you couldn’t hear steve or your friends talking.

you couldn’t feel steve.

now, you were starting to panic.

just as you were about to scream, you felt something sharp on your neck. a long nail dragging across your skin too softly to break the skin. the hairs on your arms stood up, goosebumps littered your body, & all you could do was freeze.

“i think you know why you’re here,” a chilling voice whispered into your right ear, making you cringe as you felt the creatures warm breath fan against your skin.

vecna had you trapped. fuck.

“you know, living with the guilt you’ve harboured for so long must be quite exhausting—isn’t it?”

no, no, no, no. this can’t be happening.

“knowing that if you had kept your mouth shut, your anger controlled, that maybe—just maybe, your father would still be alive”

in a flash you were transported back to that haunted day, back to that road trip that your father forced you to go on. you never had a good relationship with him to begin with, so being stuck in a small space for seven hours wasn’t your ideal way to spend a weekend.

it was a few months after your parents finally divorced after years of fighting, screaming, family dinners that were unsuccessful. your father had wanted to bond, to atone whatever trauma he had inflicted upon you as a young child from refusing marriage counselling (or counselling in general) to work on his behaviour.

but as expected, he was too prideful to admit he was ever in the wrong.

which leads you to that moment in the car.

he blamed you for whatever wrong turn he had made a couple miles back, & since you were the one holding the map, it began a screaming match that festered into a tug of war. you tried to get him to let go of your wrists, to let you lead you both out of the barren forest covered dirt roads so you could ge to wherever the hell he wanted to take you to, but he wouldn’t budge.

however, one wrong move changed it all.

it was when you elbowed him the eye accidentally, causing him to yell in agony & involuntarily push his right foot harder on the gas. he wasn’t paying attention to his speed, nor the way the steering wheel was turning.

one minute you were on a dirt road.

the next you were upside down on a rocky ditch that was at least thirty feet from where the dirt road was.

your vision was blurry with blood from a cut on your forehead. your right ankle aching & smushed tight between your car seat & the concaved passenger door.

your father, who hadn’t worn his seatbelt, was partially through the car’s windshield, body covered in glass & blood & you couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

you stayed like that for hours, with the car alarm blaring in your ears until a first ranger showed up as your saving grace.

but your father didn’t survive. & you still believed it was all your fault.

“wouldn’t it be nice if you could let it go? atone for what you did? stop the guilt from eating away at you?” vecna’s voice boomed in your ears.

you were paralyzed in fear, praying this moment would be over.

*~*~*~***~*~~*~*~**~*~*~~*

“you got a good grip, y/n/n?” steve asked after you stilled for a moment, left foot still in the palms of his hands, waiting to be boosting upwards.

you stayed silent. frozen.

steve called out your name again as your grip loosened on the rope & your body began tipping backwards. he quickly reacted, catching your limp body in time before your head smacked the ground.

his heart stopped when he saw your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“no… no, no, no, no! fuck! please, please not you—not you” steve yelled, his hands cradling your face & occasionally slapping your cheeks gently with hopes you’d snap out of it—hoping vecna would let you out of his grasp so steve could make it better.

“steve? what’s going on down there?” robin yelled, her voice echoing into steve’s ears but his heart was constricting & his chest felt really heavy.

“he’s got her—he’s fucking got her & she’s not waking up!” steve yelled again, tears brimming his eyes in fear because he could lose you right now.

brushing your hair out of your face frantically, steve continued tapping your skin. “sweetheart, you gotta wake up. it’s steve—i’m right here. can you hear me? c’mon—come back to me, baby” he croaked as the minutes went on, drowning out the panicked voices in the gate above him.

“what do i do? what do i do—“

“steve! what’s her favourite song? we need her favourite song!” dustin yelled repeatedly, trying to wake steve up from his own panic mode.

it clicked—how could steve forget.

music.

“holy shit. that’s it. favourite song, favourite song…” steve began to feel hopeful, scouring his mind through a rolodex of memories until he found the one he was looking for.

“the downtown lights by the blue nile! the cassette’s in my glovebox! hurry!” he yelled with a heartbroken plea, his eyes not leaving your face. “c’mon, baby. wake up”.

steve didn’t care that he was crying now, but he wasn’t gonna give up on you. while the others were searching through the glove compartment of steve’s b&w & eddie’s stash of cassette tapes in case, steve just started to sing the song in hopes you’d hear him.

“sometimes i walk away, when all i really wanna do is love & hold you right…”

his voice was cracking with nerves, failing to stay completely steady as his chest hurt & his hands were trembling against your skin.

“there is just one thing i can say. nobody loves you this way,” he held back a sob, his heart clenching at how your eyes continued to roll back. “it’s all right. can’t you see, the downtown lights…”

~*~***~~~**~***~*~~***~**~*~

steve learned your favourite song early on when you started dating, around mid october after starcourt fell, where you invited steve over for a sleep over since your mom went out of town for a weekend.

he knew you hated sleeping in your house alone after the events of the summer, so he didn’t mind keeping you company. you both had sprawled out on your living room couch, coffee table filled with pizza, pop, & your favourite treat (which steve picked up on his way over as a surprise). the movie on the tv had become background noise by the time you both had finished eating, bodies turned to one another underneath the blanket you two shared.

“so, when am i gonna get a room tour, hmm?” steve asked as he brushed some hair away from your forehead, fingers tucking some starnes behind your left ear as you looked at him as if he had hung the moon.

“i’ll show you under one condition, harrington”

“i’m all ears” he said eagerly, scooting closer to you on the couch.

nervously, you raised your left index finger to your lips & tapped them, eyes flickering between steve’s brown ones & his pink lips. he watched you closely, getting an idea of what you wanted (which made his stomach roll with butterflies).

“ahhhh” he dragged with realization, “want me to kiss you? is that it?” he teased, making you feel smaller than you really were under his gaze.

but before you could turn away or back out, steve was cradling your cheek & bringing you closer to him. his breath fanned your skin, noses lightly brushing against the other.

“i really wanna kiss you too” he mumbled with a smile before leaning further to close the gap.

you hummed in delight when your lips pressed to his, fingers fisting the material of his sweatshirt because it felt so good. steve could hear his heartbeat loud in his ears as he continued to kiss you, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek to make you melt under his touch. the longer his lips meshed with yours, the more your body had moved to practically sit on top of his, chests just touching as your arms trailed up to wrap around his shoulders.

“steve” you breathed, pulling away with a pant but still staying close.

“was that too much?” he asked concerned, chest rising up & down as he looked at you with care.

it was you who kissed him next, one that lasted a few seconds before resting your forehead against his. “n-no—it was really nice” you exhaled with a smile, arms tightening around him when you felt his left hand resting on your lower back, rubbing up & down soothingly.

you both hasn’t realized that the movie was over & the channel had switched over to music videos. playing softly in the background was a song you had a deep spot in your heart for. turning towards the tv with a tiny gasp, you smiled harder when you saw that it was the blue nile.

“that’s my favourite song!” you whispered excitedly, turning back to steve when he tapped your cheek.

“what song is it?” he asked, not having too much knowledge about them.

“the downtown lights” you replied sheepishly.

“there is just one thing i can say. nobody loves you this way,” you hummed along to the lyrics with a small smile.

steve watched you, admiring how your face looked with the tv glow casting on your features. he thought you were just the best thing ever.

turning up the volume with the remote in his hand, steve listened intently to the lyrics, right foot tapping against the carpeted floor to the beat. “it’s really pretty—just like you” he said, smiling brightly when you chuckled at him.

“that’s so cliche, but thank you”

“cliche but true. & you’re welcome”

~**~*~~*~***~**~~**~**~

after he let the memory replay in his mind, the cassette tap for the band’s album “hats” landed by steve’s feet with a walkman & a headset.

“finally!” steve yelled more so to himself, brushing away a stray tear on his cheek to grab the items

first he put the headphones over your ears. then he attached the tape to the player & forwarded the tape to the song’s track number. turning the volume up, steve’s hands resumed their spot on your face to hold you, to coax out of whatever horrific trance you were in.

“hey, can you hear me? it’s steve, your steve. you gotta wake up, okay? you gotta come back to me” he begged, his hope growing thin as the seconds went on.

“everyone’s here—dustin, lucas, max, robin, nancy, eddie—we’re here. we want you back. we need you. i promise i won’t do anymore stupid impressions or be an idiot—i’ll be whatever you want me to be” steve continued to ramble, praying that you were listening, that you were coming home to him.

“i-i love you. & i can’t do this without you” he cried to you, not caring if any of his friends heard his love confession in the moment because you were still limp in his arms.

he could vaguely hear the yells of his friends trying to talk to you too, trying to lead you back to reality. but all steve could focus on were how your eyes continued rolling into the back of your head.

it wasn’t until the song was about to restart on a loop where steve felt your arms twitching, your chest raising up & down rapidly. before he could even blink your eyes returned back to normal, lips letting out panicked breaths as you scanned your surroundings, hands about to push steve’s away until you saw him.

“s-steve?” you asked wearily, voice feeling small & fragile after the return to hell you had just experienced. “w-what… i-i don’t understand…” you were at a loss for words, confused & scared.

“it’s me, honey—i’m right here. it’s okay now,” before he could finish, you were hiding in his chest, hands gripping the jean jacket he wore so tightly in fear that this was another trick. that maybe you weren’t safe & vecna still had you.

you sobbed hard, breaths becoming strained with each cry that tore through you. every time you closed your eyes, you were back there again—back in that god forsaken car with bloody vision & your father dead. back where vecna told you your worst fears.

“you’re safe. i’m here now. god, i was so worried—ohmygod” steve rambled assurances, cradling your head close like he was in disbelief too, making sure that you were really back in his arms.

surprisingly, the headset was still secured to your head, downtown lights continuing to play from the foamy speakers into your ears. the song calmed you down a bit, made you feel grounded. but it was steve’s touches, the smell of his cologne, & his soft whispers that called you home—back to reality.

“is this real?” your broken voice asked, needing to make sure it was really him.

so steve pulled your head back to hold your face in his hands. he smoothed the sweat, the baby hairs, the tears, & splotches of dirt off your skin, giving you the kindest look you’ve ever been given. “ yeah, i’m real. i’m not gonna hurt you. i gotcha, yeah? won’t let anything hurt you again, promise” he swore with honour, his own lip trembling when your eyes continued to well up with tears.

“god, i love you” he pressed his forehead to yours, exhaling a shaky breath when one of your hands pressed against his chest to feel his heartbeat.

that was the most intimate thing he’s ever felt.

“i love you too” you mumbled back to him, pulling him in for another bone crushing hug to say all the words you wanted to in the moment. steve got the message loud & clear.

[queenimmadolla]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

Summary: Tired of seeing Eddie with other women, you reflect on how much longer you can take it.

Warnings: no mentions of y/n, fem!reader, heavy on the angst, hurt with attempts to comfort, both reader and Eddie are bad at feelings, self-deprecation, Eddie is toxic and doesn’t know why, infidelity (but not technically), no happy ending.

The house is quiet as the front door creaks open, you’re quick to slip inside—chill of the October air nipping at your back. The lights are all off and your arms curl around your exposed midsection. It was colder outside but still chilly in your home, your parents out of town on a romantic anniversary road trip. 

  You sigh, tossing your keys on the table to run around searching for in the morning, and make your way to your room with a quick detour at the thermostat to turn on the heat. It’s a blind fumble to reach the antique lamp, once you enter your bedroom, but you refuse to use the overhead light. It would cast your room in non-aesthetic lighting, and you’re already annoyed, pissed off and depressed enough.

  An irritated breath is huffed from your lips, top lip curling as you recall the very reason for your negative attitude, hands yanking your top right over your head. It’s only when you’re in your pajamas, faced with your own reflection as you prepare to remove the makeup that had been so empowering to put on but you can now feel on your face like an unpleasant mask, that you allow the hot tears of anger and hurt to fall. You almost want to laugh at yourself, mouth curling into a bitter smile as you swipe the ponds cream all over your face. As you massage it in, making sure to focus on your eyes, the smile wavers, corners tugging down as moisture still leaks from your clenched eyelids.

  You don’t have to be mean to yourself, you shouldn't. Not when the guy you’re in love with already does such a good job of it.

  You purse your lips, trying to hold back sobs as you recall the images of him all over a girl you didn’t know at a party he’d convinced you to go to. You couldn’t even describe her, couldn’t remember what she looked like—all you saw was your Eddie, the guy who drove you to and picked you up from work, took you on cute dates involving picnic baskets, fields, lakes, empty lots to stargaze in, nearly empty movie auditoriums so the two of you could canoodle, your tongues tasting each other as the two lovers on screen professed their undying love. 

  He even bought you stuffed animals, would pretend to give them life and personalities to go with it, all to amuse you. Did arts and fucking crafts with you. 

  But anytime you so much as brought up the status of your relationship, he’d wave it off, claiming labels were for Petri dishes, not people. 

  You were his girl and that’s all that mattered.

  It’s what you’d repeated in your head the first time you’d seen him playing with Bianca Anderson’s fingers while the two of them were tucked away in the corner of the hideout, after one of Corroded Coffin’s sets. And again when you’d stumbled out of Rick’s house party to see him laid out on the grass, his head in the lap of a former cheerleader from high school he used to admire, her head bowed to connect their lips and his hands in her hair.

  By the time he was tugging at Tina’s hair, playfully shouldering her while they stood in front of the bonfire at another gathering, you’d stopped repeating it in your head. Not even when you watched her lead him to her car.

  You lost count of how many times Eddie had made other girls his, too. 

  And like some pathetic worm with no backbone, you let him. Okay—it’s not like you could physically stop them, though tonight your drink had ended up all over him, maybe that put a little stutter in his plans. But there wouldn’t be a too if you just fucking stopped. 

  Just . . .stopped. 

  Stopped taking his calls, stopped answering your door for him, your window, let your co-worker take over the counter the moment he stepped in, stopped looking for his car, stopped thinking about him and that stupid fucking dimple, stopped thinking about how special you felt when he had your naked body pressed against his under the warmth of blankets, his rough fingertips tracing over your sweaty shoulder. How he’d always get so tender, pull you even closer and whisper how much you meant to him while pressing slow kisses to your face. How he never wanted to lose you, wouldn’t know what to do, couldn’t live. It was the sweetest agony. 

  Most of all, you wish he would stop being there in the morning, all soft breaths and fluttering lashes as he tried to be as close to you as he could, even in a deep slumber. It’s how you know he means it. He means everything he tells you. There is truth to those sweet nothings, declarations, proclamations. You know it. 

  And that’s why it all hurt so bad, because you know he cares about you as much as he says he does and he still always fucking hurts you, always breaks your heart, but because you know he cares, you’d just let him back in like some fucking clown.

  He gets to break you over and over again and you let him because he always puts the pieces back together.

  You know what people say about you—everyone knows the two of you are involved and they’d see him out and about with others. Your fumbling answers about what the two of you aren’t just make it clear to them that you’re a doormat and you can’t even deny it. Just avoid their pitiful looks thrown your way.

  After washing your face, you take a long hard look at yourself in the mirror; eyes rimmed red, lashes clustering together, face etched in misery. When you can’t stand the person on the other side of the mirror any longer, you flip the light switch and leave the bathroom, pick your favorite tape to listen to, set the volume low and slip into bed. 

  You’d teetered with the idea of smoking a little, but that would just stave off the heartbreak. Might as well feel it in the moment while you still have the sense of mind before—

  Knock, knock, knock.

  A humorless chuckle escapes you, muffled into your pillow as your eyes slip shut. Sometimes by the front door, just about always by the window. You think it’s another one of his little relationship doorstops; can’t be serious with you if he uses your window to sneak into your house, it’s much too intimate to walk through your front door. 

  Of course, he can’t let you have a moment of peace, not even when you’re down. No, he has to fix you now. That’s how the toxic cycle goes. So, dutifully, you play your part, though this time, things have changed.

  You toss the blankets off and pad over to your window but you don’t open it right away. Instead, you stare at him. Take him in.

  Eddie is in different attire, shirt and jeans swapped out for one of his old club shirts and some sweats. His hair isn’t as voluminous, it’s wet. He’d had to shower to rid himself of your wine cooler. There’s no trace of the Eddie you saw at the party, this one has eyes filled with sorrow and depth, almost like he’s known nothing else. You know better. 

  Please, he mouths through the glass. You stare a beat longer before the latch is unlocked and he’s hastily pulling it open, clambering in ungracefully. 

  As you watch him gain his footing, part of you wants to taunt yourself about how you’ve let this man, so below your league and wonderful, ruin your life. He’s hot, sure, but you're hotter. That’s just the truth. You denied it a lot at the beginning of your shitty cherished relationship, felt so insecure to have a man like him paying you attention when he can have everyone. But he was no man. And he still had everyone along with you. Those pitting glances weren’t just because of what you let him put you through, it was because they knew you could do better.

  For some reason, the idiot who got his shoe caught on the window sill is the one your heart wants. 

  God, you hate him.

  Rolling your eyes, you go back to your bed, climbing back into your warm blankets. Your back is to him, yet you can still feel his hesitance, see the look on his face, how his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. His stare is intense but it doesn’t unnerve you. Not this time. You feel the bed dip as he climbs in behind you. 

  There’s still some distance between the two of you, you can tell he’s uncertain. Then, he scuttles forward until he’s pressed to your back, arm slipping around your middle to drag you impossibly closer. 

  He’s surrounding you, the scent of Eddie’s all-in-one shampoo and body wash filling your nostrils, underlying smell of the joint he’d smoked to calm his nerves before coming over, and the cheap body spray he’d soaked himself in to try and hide it.

  “I didn’t fuck her,” he whispers, lips at your ear. “Swear I didn’t. Couldn’t.”

  You don’t say anything, just stare at the poster of Roxette pinned to your wall. His arm tightens around you and you can feel his heart hammering against your back.

  “I-I couldn’t do that to you,” he continues and you huff, that bitter smile from earlier returning. Eddie goes stiff behind you, but he has nothing to worry about. You won’t kick him out, won't toss him to the curb like you should. You both know you won’t. He knows you should, knows he hurts you and he honest to god doesn’t know why. Couldn’t tell anyone to save his own life. 

  He just—he just fucks shit up. It’s not self-sabotage because Eddie knows he risks losing you and he doesn’t want to, doesn’t ever want to exist in a world where you don’t want him, don’t want to be with him.

  But he still does it anyway. Still goes and kisses girls knowing you’re watching, does worse when you’re not. 

  The worst part—other than hurting you—is that he doesn’t even want them. Not really. Other than in that moment, Eddie couldn’t give a single shit about them beyond being a Good Samaritan. It’s you he wants all the time.

  You’re the only constant thing he needs in his life, wants around him all the time, craves, lusts after, loves, cherishes. For the rest of his life. But Eddie hurts you, and he doesn’t know why. 

  That’s why he can’t be your boyfriend. Evidently, he’d be a shit one. Not that he’s doing a spectacular job being your…whatever it is he was, whatever the two of you were. 

  Yes, he always fucks up, but he keeps part of you safe from him by not being your boyfriend. One day, you’ll leave him. 

  He knows it. It scares the shit out of him and he prays to deities he doesn’t really believe in that it won’t happen, that he’ll get this shit together and make right by you, but he knows you’ll leave him. You genuinely deserve better. 

  “I wish I didn’t know you,” Eddie tenses once more at your voice, at your statement. It’s said with nonchalance, like you were commenting on the weather. He relaxes, heart clenching in pain as he somehow holds you even tighter.

  “I know.”

  “I hate that I love you. Wish I would just stop.” You shimmy around until you’re facing him, Eddie’s hold on you loosens to allow it, and when you’re settled, he pulls you close again, your nose nudging along the neckline of his shirt.

  “I know.” He whispers out again, vision blurring with unshed tears. He loves you, too. Neither of you ever say it directly, just make references to it. 

  “I will, though. Maybe not tonight, but I won’t always love you.” It’s said with certainty. You’ll take this treatment for now, but you know you won’t forever. Despite the pathetic place you’d found yourself in tonight, again, you’re making strides. Gone was the loser who would just watch him betray you after spending the entire day making you feel like the two of you were the only ones on earth who mattered. Tonight, you’d stepped in. You were growing more self aware. Soon, you would stop answering the door. Stop answering his calls. Stop loving him. 

  And you’d look back and cringe, maybe laugh with your friends about how stupid and naive you’d been. You’d move on, too. Meet someone who treats you as good as Eddie does when he isn’t sucking another girl’s face. They won’t kiss or fuck anyone else, they’ll only ever know you from the moment that spark ignites. You might worry from time to time, effects from Eddie, but they’ll gently coax it out of you, build your trust up and one day you won’t worry. All you’ll know is their love.

  Yeah, you’d stop loving him.

  Eddie makes an indistinguishable sound, you know he’s fighting sniffles. Can hear the emotion in his voice, “I know.”

  You nuzzle your face into his chest before your cheek settles there, listening to the fast paced beating coming from within it and you wonder if it’ll happen tomorrow. If you’ll wake up, see Eddie sleeping in your bed, and have your first thought be how much you want him out of it and away from you without a trace of fondness for him. You’ll just wake up and not love him anymore.

  You slip a leg between his to tangle your limbs, breathing in his scent as deeply as you can when your eyelids flutter shut.

  And while you spend your last moments of consciousness hoping tonight’s the last night you’ll let him hold you, Eddie spends the rest of it wide awake, and hoping. Hoping if he doesn’t fall asleep, he won’t wake up to you telling him you don’t love him. Hoping he’ll miraculously become a better person for you overnight. Hoping he won’t lose you.

  Hoping you’ll always be his girl.

divider ℗ cafekitsune ♡

[koishiro]

# - 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : fluff

masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist

Satoru Gojo 五条悟

Congratulations, you’ll never be alone again!

He would be infatuated with you

This man (boy) would not hesitate to embarrass himself in front of you

And by that I mean;

He would trip himself up, walk into a door, accidentally bump into you…

He would do the stupidest things all to get your attention

And if it was back when he was a student, I can imagine him calling out a teacher on a mistake or having a smart remark so he could see your smile, especially if it was from his doings

He’d still do that as a teacher himself actually

And if it was valentines?

Expect your desk to be covered in an array of heart shaped chocolate boxes, flower bouquets and many cards

He’d probably include expensive things as well like bracelets, rings, necklaces and earrings

Even if it wasn’t valentines and it was just any other day he’d either leave a note on your desk or a bag of mochi

Be grateful he didn’t devour that shit on the way

And during training?

He could be in the middle of training his students when he’d suddenly stop and just stare at you walking past

Either that or he would show tf off

There’s no inbetween

Poor Yuji, Megumi and Nobara would walk back to their dorms black and blue

He would beg the higher ups to assign you missions together

And you best know he’s going to pick on you

If you’re short? You’re now a portable headrest

If you’re tall? How’s the weather?

“Oh! My little Mochi! How are we today hm? Would you like to know where I was yesterday - I’ll tell you anyway, I happened to stumble upon a sweet shop and found some kikufuku and they had that flavour you like so much so out of the kindness of my heart I thought to buy you some!”

Suguru Geto 下戸傑

You wouldn’t even know this man has a crush on you, he’s that chill

You’d just think he’s really friendly

But saying that, he’d try and spend more time around you

You need to go shopping? He’ll be there to carry your bags

You can’t sleep at 3 in the morning? He’ll be at your door in 5 minutes

And he would (unknowingly to him) take such good care of you

And this man is smooth af while doing it

You’re both walking down a busy street? He’ll have his hand on your lower back

“Wouldn’t want you getting lost now would we?”

Walking next to the road? Not with him around

You’re cold? Here, have his jacket

If you’re both in a room full of people his eyes will automatically search for you, making sure you’re okay and not uncomfortable

And you best know he’ll be right behind you if you are

If someone cuts you off halfway through your sentence? Geto would stare that mf down until they shut up and motions for you to continue

“Stay close to me, there are too many men here staring at you. Can’t let them get any ideas now can we? Unless that’s what you want hm? I’d be forced to change your mind otherwise”

Itadori Yuji いたどりゆうじ

He’d be so nervous around you 🥹

He’s a blushing mess every time you step into the same room as him

Impossibile for him to keep his eyes off you

He just stares at you and smiles :)

But god forgive if you make contact with him-

He passes you a work sheet or a book and you brush fingers? He’ll drop everything

Continues to try and save himself which turns out to be futile considering he can’t stop stuttering out an apology

He’d also overthink every and any interaction you have with each other

That brush of fingers earlier? Was that a sign? Should he do something to confirm this? Eye contact? Should he make eye contact?

He’ll even leave cute little trinkets on your desk that he thought you’d like from his trips

And seeing you smile at that silly little note he left on your desk makes his entire week

Would definitely try and show you how strong he is 110%

You’re walking past the training field?

He’s there lifting Panda with one hand

“O-oh Y/n! What are you doing here? You look really pretty today! - not that you don’t everyday! I just mean that you look extra pretty today but you look extra pretty all the time, I’m running out of compliments…”

Fushiguro Megumi 伏黒恵

Like Suguru, you wouldn’t even know Megumi has a crush on you

…If it wasn’t for Yuji and Nobara of course

Oh hey, I have post on that-

You’re walking past him in the halls? Nobara and Yuji are there poking him and whispering (which probably shouldn’t count as whispering)

“Oh Megumi~ Don’t look now but someone you like is walking behind you~”

Which resulted in the both getting smacked upside the head

And if Gojo caught wind of this?

Gojo would leave bags of mochi or little notes saying how pretty you looked that day and sign it from your beloved Megumi

He’d even try and give ‘parental’ advice

That didn’t end well

I can imagine you walking up to him with the mochi and card in hand to kiss his cheek as a thank you which left him a flustered mess

He just holds his cheek with a straight face as you walk off 😌

Moving on though,

He’d be such a gentleman-

He’d lay his jacket on top of your legs if you’re wearing shorts or a skirt

And if you’re cold? Have his jacket

He notices you didn’t get much sleep that night? Oh look an energy drink magically appeared on your desk

You’re sad? He’ll summon his Divine Dogs

But don’t bring this to his attention, he’ll deny everything

“Hm? You received mochi on your desk? How should I know? - why are you looking at me like that? What are you - oh… yeah, must’ve slipped my mind”

Kugisaki Nobara 釘崎野薔薇

It’d be pretty obvious she likes you

If everyone’s talking over you or you have something to say she’ll have no hesitation in screaming at everyone to shut up

“EVERYONE SHUT UP! Y/N HAS SOMETHING TO SAY THAT I’M SURE ALL OF YOU ARE DYING TO KNOW SO LISTEN UP! …Go on Y/n”

You’re going on every shopping trip she has, which is near daily so good luck 🫡

But don’t worry, she won’t make you carry all her bags no no no

That’s for Yuji and Megumi to deal with

And those shopping trips will lead to sleepovers

Which will lead to her styling your outfits for the next month

Which will then lead to her mixing her clothes with yours justifying it by saying it goes better than any of your other ones

A subtle claim but one nonetheless

She would show you off like it’s nobodies business (except it is)

“Everyone! Look at my partner!! Look how hot they are - HEY DONT YOU CALL THEM HOT! THATS MY JOB”

You have social media? She already follows you

She would drool over every picture

Comments, hearts, the whole shabang

And let’s not forget the daily compliments of course

She’d somehow know if you’re wearing a different shade of lipgloss that day

Or if you’ve changed the colour of your nails

“Ahh you look so pretty today! Your eyeshadow is so cute!! Wait is that my top? Didn’t I tell you it would go well with your skirt, I’m always right! You should keep it, it suits you better anyway”

Toji 杜氏

How in the world did you pull this guy?

He’d be cocky af though

You might not know but if you tell him something about yourself or something you like he’ll have it ingrained into his brain while at the same time pretending not to give two fucks

Like I can imagine him seeing something you mentioned in a previous conversation in a shop window and buys it, gives it to you and says;

“I bought too much so I thought I’d give you the rest.”

“But it’s wrapped?”

“…It came like that”

Mhm sure

And if you asked his opinion on a certain outfit he’d definitely say;

“Who cares? Wear whatever you want, I cant fight”

Okay daddy-

He’d be such a bodyguard though, you cannot convince me otherwise

Like Geto he’d stand behind you to silently let them know you’re off limits

Even though you’re not dating he’d still have a possessive hand around your waist idc

“Why you gotta look like that hm? Always lookin’ so pretty for me. You tryna get their attention or something? Bet that’s what you want huh, want me to show them who you really belong to isn’t that right”

Zen’in Maki┊禪院真希

First off, I’m jealous but okay moving on

She’d be a low-key soft tsundere

Lemme explain,

This girl is a strong independent woman who gives no shits whatsoever and also has a very high wall built to hide her emotions and to keep you tf out

Therefore!, she’d pick on you (and no one else) in the nicest way possible

“Where do you think you’re going wearing that, a circus? You look like an idiot… but a cute idiot I guess…”

My heart-

And if you’d tease her back she’d just push your face away and walk in the opposite direction

She’d probably let you wear her glasses if you ask nicely

She’d even volunteer to help you train just so she can spend more time with you 🥹

Would purposely make you flustered no doubt in my mind (wouldn’t even have to try)

During practice she’d trip you up and land on you CENTIMETRES away from your face and just smirk

Ahahdbjsmke

She’d grin at anything cute you do

You’re doing a lil happy dance while eating? She’s there staring at you with a small grin

You’re pouting because something didn’t go your way? She’ll just tilt her head and smile

“You always look so cute when you do that little dance of yours, what’s got you so happy huh? Wanna tell me so you do that cute dance again? Go on, don’t be shy now”

Inumaki Toge 狗巻棘

My sweet sweet boy

He’d silently fan boy at everything you do

Definitely your personal cheerleader 🤝

At any and every one of your accomplishments, he’d cheer you on with his little jig of a dance

He’d rant to Panda in onigri ingredients at how perfect you are

He blushes A LOT

But you’ll never know since he has his collar zipped up at all times 😔

Every time you make him nervous he’ll fidget with his hands and look anywhere but at you

You compliment him over text while he’s in his dorm? He’s trying not scream and just rolls back and forth in his bed in excitement and happiness

I can imagine him standing behind Nanami doing silly little dances to make you laugh

Loves head pats, that’s it. That’s all.

He malfunctions when ruffle or comb your fingers through his hair

His tail would be wagging if he was a dog

He’d give you gifts as well but not any gifts

For example;

You’re usually cold in class? He’ll buy you a scarf and give it to you the next day

You’ve been staying up lately due to assignments? He’ll place a bag of energy bars and caffeinated drinks on your desk

He does all this while reprimanding you in onigri ingredients

He’d even keep spares in his bag just in case

“What did I tell you about staying up late huh? And will you ever learn to wear something warm to class or do I need to continuously bring these things with me? You’re lucky you’re cute!”

Nanami Kento 七海健人

Bby would be so professional

He’d keep trying to convince himself that it isn’t professional to have feelings for his colleague

Yet he couldn’t help but spend more time with you

He’d ask for your opinion on certain topics (shocker I know) or if you’d be able to print something out for him

He’d do this so much it’d start to make you suspicious

Even Gojo would catch on…

“Nanamin~ how come you ask Y/n for their opinion when you have me huh?”

Like Megumi he’d be such a gentleman

He’d put his coat on your lap if you’re wearing shorts or a skirt

He’d put his hand on your back to guide you through busy crowds

He’d make an extra cup of coffee/tea for you when he’s making one for himself

I feel like he’d have a certain tick when he’s nervous like scratching the side of his head or behind his ear

It’d be so fckn cute 😤

You mention the tie he’s wearing that day suits him or brings out his eyes? Don’t be surprised if he wears it again tomorrow

He wouldn’t even be ashamed about it

“What are you looking at? Oh my tie? What’s wrong with it? Didn’t you say it suited me yesterday? Thought I’d wear it for you again”

—

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

[therealbatgirlishere]

Trips in. (Tripin.) p1!

First fic! Kindness or constructive criticism is allowed. No req 🫶🏽

miles morales e-42 aged up! X bb mama reader aged up! miles age: 23 readers age: 22

context: you and Miles had broken up, due to a bad fight (petty argument) with a bad outcome, but anyways It’s been months and you’ve both pretty much moved on…right? Well, after you had finished getting dolled up to have a fun night with you and your girls, you had to drop your son off.. as you were planning to leave you might have been a bit.. interrupted?

You were chilling, just having finished your makeup and hair, you were going out with your girlfriends so you wanted to look nice as usual. Miles was comin in to take you n his kid,  sure. It’s a bit awks having to still communicate with the baby daddy after you both broke up but hey, at least your boy got a dad in his life. You were packing your sons things, placing clothes in his little bag, spare shoes a toothbrush and more, including a small treat for the road (a twix or stm Wtv u want.) after you had finished, you called your boy over. 

“Zion! ven aquí!” You shouted from upstairs, seconds later you heard the pitter patter of tiny feet coming up the stairs, your child then poking his head out of the door. 

“Mama?” Zion asked, in his cute lil voice you could see his little brown fro poking out as well as his eyes. You smiled, “Zion, you ready to see your papa?” You questioned, lips curling upwards. Zion gave a small nod. Cute. Your 4 year old son waddled his way over to you and gave you a hug, small arms wrapping around your knees and face dig into your legs. You patted your sons head.

 “Alright, I’ll put your bag on so you’re all ready.” You then picked up your son and settled him down on his comfy race car bed. He looked up at you, when you really looked at him, you could see miles, a resemblance between him and you in there…what were you just thinking? No. Stop thinking about that man. Focus. you were halfway through putting on his bag.

Knock knock knock

The sound echoed through the house, you had a feeling it was him, who am I kidding it was him. But, you had to make sure. 

“Zion,  stay here okay? I’ll call you down if papas here.” You said, holding his shoulders and being eye to eye with him before pecking his forehead quick and softly, then making your way downstairs and to the door, you were calm. Why wouldn’t you be? Face blank as you headed to the door.

Click.. creeeakkk

You opened the door, and there he was the 6’3 tall dark skinned male, mini Two-Strand twists,   the same blank expression as always. Wearing a white coloured wife beaters n a black zip up jacket with loose fit jeans, a silver chain and ring on his finger. 

(If ur wondering why he looks different it’s because he’s aged up, so ofc he would get taller and want to switch his hairstyle up etc. dw tho you can still imagine him looking the same ig.)

“…” he stared down at you,  hands in his pockets a lacklustre expression on his face as he then looks behind you. Searching for his son.

Where’s Zion at?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks behind you still. Wow. Rude much? 

The man can’t even be bothered to say hi to the mother of his child.

“Well, Hi to you too. Miles.” You reply, giving him a sarcastic smile before rolling your eyes and turning your head back towards the house.

 “Zion! Your dads here!” You called him over, your son then poked his head out, a grin from ear to ear appeared as he then let out a small giggle. He then ran down the stairs, loud thumping being heard as he made his way down. 

“Ay.” You sucked your teeth in slight annoyance when you saw him running to fast down the stairs, almost tripping but saving himself. 

“Hijo, don’t run down the stairs you’ll fall.” You scolded him, putting a hand on his shoulder as he went to go hug your knees again, nodding a bit then looked up at his dad. 

“He’s jus a kid Chica.” Miles said, looking at you. What an ass. He still had that deadpan expression going on. You shook your head slightly and scowled.

“Just looking out for my son.” You replied, scowling removed as you looked back at him, crossing your arms. Jeez, did he have to be this annoying? You questioned in your head.

“You mean our, son.” He responded, then stared slightly more closely to your face, his eyebrows then knit together. “You wearin makeup? And what’s up with yo fit and hair?” He asked, staring you up and down as he pointed. Does he have to know every single little thing about you? 

This is p1 cause I can’t be bothered writing the rest 😜

[theragethatisdesire]

cabin in the woods - eren x reader x jean - 18+!!!

part three of our polyverse woo! i wanted to write something intense for spooky season, but not like, a slasher fic, and you know eren would have the biggest primal play kink ever so here we are. the besties have been in their little poly relationship for a year and this is their anniversary trip <3 (and they're just so cute i need to put them in my pocket). enjoy what @fictional-d-supremacy and i came up with and....i don't even know what else to say. i love this one, prob in my top 3 of all time, i just love poly!erejean <3

pairing: eren jaeger x reader x jean kirschstein

wc: 9.5k (good lord)

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

*deep breath* CWs: primal play (for some people, it may read as dubcon, so please familiarize yourself with what this means, you are responsible for your triggers!), consensual sex, established relationship, use of names (pet, baby, angel, princess, slut, bitch), breeding kink, biting, fingering, oral sex (fem and male receiving), anal play, anal sex, double penetration, mlm (eren and jean are in an established relationship and kiss at one point), degradation, objectification, multiple orgasm, threesome, bi!eren, bi!jean, dirty talk, creampie, polyamory

OKAY now that that's out of the way.....have fun babies!

-

There’s something about the crisp autumn breeze drifting in through the open windows, twisting through Jean’s Jeep with the same rhythm as the car itself winding up the side of the mountain, that sends a vicious shudder down your spine. You try to roll your window up to fight the chill, but Eren whines from behind you and thuds a heavy boot against your seat in protest.

“You said if I let you have shotgun, we could keep the windows down the whole time.”

“It’s freezing!”

“But I get carsick,” Eren grumbles, glaring at you in the rearview mirror. Jean sighs in a tone that sounds a lot like exasperation, reaching over to turn your heated seat on.

“Better?”

“A little,” you smile softly at him, laying your palm over the warm hand he rests on your knee, “are we almost there?”

“It’s just around this corner,” Jean assures you, hazel eyes flitting back over to the gravelly, curving road. You take a moment to admire him: strong brow, regal, elegant nose, pouty lips that you know to be soft from experience. The simple knowledge that Jean is yours, yours to kiss and touch whenever you want, is enough to send a thrill through you. Your moment of adoration is cut short by Eren throwing his arms over the seat, digging his hands into your shoulders in a rough massage.

“You’re going to love this place, babe,” Eren says behind your ear. The buzzy excitement thrumming through his voice makes a small grin tug at the corner of your mouth; Eren’s moods are contagious more often than not, and he’s been miraculously cheerful all day. “Mama Kirschstein’s got the hook-up.”

“You’re still calling her that?” Jean rolls his eyes, “she’s been telling you to call her Jane for the last eight years.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t mind us coming up?” You eye Jean nervously, reaching up to squeeze one of Eren’s larger hands for reassurance. “I know she had a bit of trouble, y’know…”

“When I told her it was our anniversary, she offered us the house for the weekend. I didn’t even ask,” Jean veers left onto a narrow dirt path, “I know it took her a minute to come around, but she adores you now. I promise.”

“She’s always adored me,” Eren adds unhelpfully, ruffling your beanie and consequently wrecking your hair, “but I guess she was able to find room in her heart for the both of us.”

“Eren, stop it– ugh, thank you. What has got you in such a good mood?” You turn over your shoulder to look at him, practically brimming with energy. Eren’s always despised road trips, yet he’s been the picture of eagerness all day.

“Just excited to spend some time alone in the woods with my two favorite people, what’s so wrong with that?” Eren grins widely at you, sharp canines glinting in the early afternoon light. Something about his smile seems…not insincere, more like overly sincere. It’s not at all out of the realm of possibility for Eren to have some grandiose, ridiculous surprise waiting for you in his suitcase, or for him to simply be bouncing out of his seat in anticipation of all the weekend away, anniversary sex you’re about to have. You chalk it up to one or the other, ignoring the strangely stern look Jean shoots him.

“Oh my god!” You cover your mouth to muffle the excited squeal that comes creeping up your throat upon sight of the cabin. The “cabin” turns out to be an isolated, sprawling home with several wings, beautiful beyond your wildest dreams. Massive slabs of stone make up the columns supporting an overhang that covers a ten-foot-tall door, the garden beds on either side of the walkway have been manicured to perfection, and there’s a winding stone path that leads to the back of the house through a covered walkway that connects the main house to the garage. It’s practically been ripped out of Architectural Digest. “It’s like it’s not even real.”

“Kirschstein money always gets the panties dropping,” Eren scoffs, practically kicking his door open the moment the car rolls to a stop, “I forgot how nice this place was.”

“Shut up,” Jean grumbles, rolling his eyes at Eren before setting his adoring gaze on you, “you like it, princess?”

“I love it,” you gush, jumping out of the car to get a better look, bag forgotten in the trunk. You can hear the boys bickering about luggage somewhere behind you, but all you can focus on is the vast nothingness around you, the sleepy chirping of cicadas in the trees, and the warmly lit home that belongs to you and your two gorgeous boyfriends for the weekend. Who says no one ever had it all?

“Are you excited?” Eren comes charging up behind you, arms encircling your waist and lips pecking every square inch of your neck he can reach.

“I’m so excited,” you giggle, shoving him off so that you can run to Jean and throw your arms around his shoulders, “thank you both so much—oh, we have to call your mom and thank her! Can we? Please?”

“In a bit,” Jean chuckles, scooping you up into his arms so you can wrap your legs around his waist, “don’t you want to see the inside first?”

“Yes–”

“I don’t know, Jean,” Eren saunters over, something mischievous flitting over his face that, if you were any less drunk on raw excitement, you would know immediately not to trust, “she may want to get a look at the woods before the sun goes down. What do you say, baby? Wanna go for a hike?”

“Eren,” Jean says, a very thin note of hesitation in his tone that you, in your giddiness, stampede right over.

“Just a quick one, Jean? Is that alright?”

“However long you want, angel,” Eren answers for Jean and smiles at you charmingly, entirely ignoring Jean’s widened eyes.

“Let’s do that,” you whip your wide, happy eyes back to Jean, a pleading grin on your face, “and then you can give me a tour of the inside. I just want to get a few Instagram pictures before we end up not putting clothes on again for the entire weekend.”

Jean smiles at you, some odd combination of endearment and something darker that you can’t quite make out—pity?—crossing his face. “Anything you want. Drop the bags on the porch, Eren? I’ll take her out back.”

Eren’s grin grows impossibly wider, a little glint in his eye. “Be right there.”

After your awkward, giggle-filled struggle to monkey-climb from Jean’s front onto his back without dropping to the ground, Jean, arms hooked firmly under your legs, walks you around the house, identifying little points of interest as he goes. He points out his childhood rope swing, tattered and still dangling from one of the massive oaks in the front yard, a few flower bushes that he remembers helping his mom plant. You can feel the swell of your heart in your chest as Jean walks you through his memories, snorting to himself when he recounts the tale of Eren nearly choking to death trying to hold his breath in the hot tub and growing misty-eyed when he points out his grandparents’ initials carved into a wooden bench in the garden.

You reach a point of the property where the meticulously groomed grass gives way to fallen leaves and patches of barren earth, a visible line between civilization and nature. A small wriggle from you lets Jean know you’re ready to hop down, and he bends at the knee slightly so you can slide off of his back.

“It really is a beautiful property,” you tell him earnestly, “I can’t thank you enough for bringing us here.”

“What’s mine is yours,” Jean, in that heartbreaking way of his, looks down at you like you’re the only thing he could ever want for, “you know that.”

“Still. Thank you.” You have to consciously focus on your breathing; you wonder if Jean knows he has this effect on people, if he knows that the way raw love lays itself bare in his eyes chokes whoever’s in his line of sight.

“It’s as much a gift for me as it is for you,” Jean leans down to nip at your ear, two large hands finding their way around your waist, “I’ve got you both away from work, out in the middle of nowhere, all to myself…”

“Jean!” It comes out as a clunky, airy giggle, half of the letters still jumbled in your throat where the breath is caught. He smirks against your neck, sinking his teeth in here, licking over a sore patch of skin there. The mountain breeze follows in his wake, kissing over the wet spots he leaves behind and raising goosebumps on the back of your neck.

“Getting started without me?” Eren’s voice startles you, makes you jump in Jean’s grip. Jean responds to your flightiness by spinning you on your heels and pressing your back to his chest, arms locked firmly under your breasts and head tucked onto your shoulder.

“We were waiting for you,” you answer, letting your eyes graze over Eren appreciatively as he approaches. As long as you’ve known him, autumn has always looked good on Eren. Something about the decaying colors around him makes his eyes that much more vibrant, the glow of them in the late afternoon sun almost reminding you of a predator at night, tucked behind bushes. Big cozy flannels only make his frame look broader, and the curl of his grown-out bangs around his pink ears makes you want to pinch his cheeks.

“Didn’t look like you were waiting,” Eren eyes Jean in annoyance, but the curl of his lip gives him away.

“She’s still here, isn’t she?” Jean counters, planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“Where else would I be?” You laugh, shoving him back from you. Eren and Jean’s eyes meet, some dangerous, tangible glimmer passing between them. “What?”

“Nothing, angel,” Eren whistles, spinning you around yet again and locking your shoulders underneath his arm, beginning to walk you into the woods, “don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

“I’m not worried,” you roll your eyes, letting him drag you further into the forest, “you guys are just being weird.”

“Are we?” Jean’s arm comes sneaking around your waist, “I don’t think we are. Do you, Eren?”

“Not at all,” Eren shrugs, pulling out his phone, “looks like we still have two hours til sunset. That seems like enough time for a hike, don’t you think, Jean?”

“Oh, that’s definitely enough time.”

You tilt your head up, a slight scowl indenting your forehead, flitting your eyes between the two of them. They’re hardly paying attention to you, staring at each other in a way that you’re not unfamiliar with. That explains the oddities of their behavior today; typical boys, just excited to jump into bed later. You barely contain another eye roll, instead opting to let them have their teasing fun and focus on the grandiosity of the forest around you.

The canopy is tall, taller than you would have expected; it feels like the dwindling population of leaves above your head is in a different world than the crunch of their fallen comrades under your feet. That pesky breeze is still there, keeping your nerve endings jumpy with the ever-present chill, but the warmth of the colors around you almost makes up for it. Everywhere you look seems to be on fire, yellows and oranges and reds blending the landscape together into a closer approximation to an abstract painting than a scene out of nature.

Easily half an hour ticks by as you stroll, all three of you having fallen into a comfortable, contemplative silence. You don’t miss the way Eren’s hand will occasionally drift from your shoulder to the back of your neck, ghosting over the skin and running through the baby hairs there, making you shiver. Jean follows suit, his arm around your waist slipping a bit low once in a while, palm cupping your ass and squeezing appreciatively. You ignore them both in favor of taking advantage of the beautiful scenery, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t affecting you. That familiar warmth curls in your stomach, molten and hungry, and the tips of your fingers twitch in your pockets, aching to replace the fabric that surrounds them with skin.

Eventually, you all reach a picturesque clearing with a gorgeous overhang, and you see your opportunity.

“Wait, stop right here,” you finally break the silence, squirming in the boys’ arms to snag your phone out of your back pocket, “this is perfect.”

“Instagram time?” Jean tries and fails to keep the bored tone out of his voice.

“We only have, like, five pictures together, and we’ve been together for over a year.”

“That’s not true,” Eren protests, “I have an album full–”

“How many of those pictures are share-able?” You cock a knowing eyebrow at him.

“Um, probably like…two.”

“My point exactly.”

Through a bit of manhandling and arguing over who should hold the phone, you make out with at least three usable selfies (the boys refused to entertain your self-timer idea), which far exceeds the amount of photos you expected to leave this trip with.

“Why don’t you let us take a few of just you?” Jean suggests, reaching for your phone with an honest smile and giving Eren a subtle nudge.

“Really?”

“Sure,” Eren jumps in, nodding and smiling along, “a few pictures of our pretty girl out in the woods on our special trip.”

“And it would be cute for your Instagram, right?” Jean adds, patting you lightly on the bottom.

“Okay,” you agree, too thrilled at their sudden interest in your quest for a nice Instagram post to think too much into the way Eren’s tongue swipes along his bottom lip, the way Jean’s holding your phone so tightly his knuckles are turning white.

“Just walk out that way, there you go.” You can hear Jean’s voice, with a strange little tremor to it, growing quieter behind you when Eren ushers you off in the opposite direction. You leave your phone with Jean, alternating between a little jog and a walk away from them, moving further into the clearing and keeping your back to the boys.

“Was that cute, or stupid?”

Your nervous giggle echoes in the clearing, the rustling of leaves the only answer you receive. You make a few different poses, feeling a little silly but willing to endure it in the interest of getting a couple of nice photos. You notice the distinct lack of sound around you, how for just a moment, it feels like the universe consists of just you, Eren, and Jean, alone in these woods and miles from any other human. It hits you that that’s not entirely untrue; the last house you’d seen had to have been fifteen minutes before you’d gotten to Jean’s driveway.

You call back to them, wanting at least a little feedback and, honestly, beginning to feel a bit creeped out by the uncharacteristic silence ringing in your ears. “Are they turning out good?”

Nothing.

“What the hell?” you finally whip back around to face them, stomping your foot petulantly, “are you two like, messing with me?”

When you turn to meet them, however, all the fire in your throat dies out as quickly as if a bucket of ice water had been tossed on it.

Jean and Eren are smiling at you, which wouldn’t be too odd of a sight, if it weren’t for the threatening glitter in their eyes, the way Eren’s tilting his head ever so slightly to the right. You’ve never seen an expression like this on either one of them, never seen something so…dangerous cross their faces.

“Run.”

“I’m sorry?” You scrunch your nose at Eren, confused. His smile only grows wider.

“Run.”

“Run?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Jean shakes his head disapprovingly, eyeing you down through the streaks of sunlight bleeding into the clearing.

“Forgot what?” Your words tremble as they make their way out into the still air. They’re your boyfriends, the men that wake you up with feather-light kisses and hoist you onto their shoulders at concerts, so why are your fingers beginning to shake?

“About that little book of yours we found,” Jean answers, cocking his head. “Surely you didn’t think we’d forget, did you?”

“No, I know she remembers,” Eren grits out through a clenched jaw, bristling under the soothing palm Jean runs over the back of his neck.

The memory hits you like a train. Coming home to find Jean and Eren hunched over a smutty novel of yours, blushing furiously and frowning in concentration. Confronting them only to find out they’d stumbled across the primal play chapter, that they’d noticed that these pages in particular looked a little well-worn. Jean had asked you if you would ever try it, Eren had raised his eyebrows when you admitted that yes, you would absolutely live that fantasy out if given the chance. Your face had burned as you nervously giggled, brushing the idea off in the sense that it was unrealistic to act out such a scenario in the middle of the city.

But you’re not in the city now. You’re in the forest, alone with your two boyfriends who are looking at you like they might rip you to shreds.

“No,” you murmur, so quietly that if the woods weren’t so still and silent, it wouldn’t have reached their ears, “I–I didn’t…I remember.”

“There it is,” Eren says, eyes glinting at you and arousal practically dripping off of his words as they make their way to your ears, “knew you did.”

“Weren’t lying, right? You wouldn’t lie to us, would you, pet?” Jean’s voice is steely and sharp with the implication that you had better not lie to him.

Words are lost on you amidst the thundering of your pulse in your ears, and you simply shake your head back and forth slowly. Some survival instinct from deep in the recesses of your brain tells you not to take your eyes off of them for a second, has every muscle in your body twitching. Despite the uneasy adrenaline coursing through your veins, a firm knot of arousal has taken hold in your lower stomach, simmering and spitting in excitement from the hungry looks on Eren and Jean’s faces.

“We’ll give you a ten second head start,” Eren says, dragging his eyes over your frame and licking at his bottom lip, “just to give you a fighting chance.”

“Sound good?” Jean tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at you. You know this is your moment to laugh this whole thing off, to return to the cozy interior of the cabin and put your feet up, have some hot chocolate, be kissed softly and held gently between their two strong bodies. This is Jean giving you an out, if you want it.

“Okay,” you agree, fingers fluttering nervously by your side.

“Good girl,” Jean nods approvingly, clenching and unclenching his fist, “ready?”

You nod back to him, knees shaking under your frame and a cold sweat breaking out over the back of your neck.

“Then fucking run,” Eren growls, grinning feral and wicked in the afternoon sun.

To your own surprise, you turn on your heel almost instantaneously, tearing off into the woods as fast as you can. The boots you’ve decided to wear are certainly not built for speed, but the thick soles are perfect for carrying you over the rough terrain, supporting your ankles and keeping them from twisting as you sprint through the woods.

You veer left, suddenly realizing that everything around you looks…the same. There’s no identifying markers, no path back to the cabin, no way to tell one tree full of decaying leaves from another. It brings you pause, your feet coming to a halt. It strikes you that you hadn’t been paying very close attention during your initial hike through the woods, and that even if you tried, you aren’t sure what direction will lead you back to the cabin. Eren and Jean have actually trapped you out here.

The crushing realization nearly makes your heart stop. You’re unable to suspend your disbelief enough to remember that these are your boyfriends chasing you; the only thought your brain can hold onto is that you’re being chased, and that you need to run.

The thudding of footsteps approaching shakes you out of your realization, has your feet moving at lightning speed the second you hear it. You don’t slow to look over your shoulder to see which one of them it is, just let your feet carry you far away as fast as you can manage. It dawns on you that the feeling coursing through you, bringing warmth to your face, is some unbelievable mixture of fear and arousal.

You can’t tell the color of either feeling apart, can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. Maybe they’re bleeding into each other, a symphony of passions ripping their way through every cord of muscle in your body, through every electrified nerve ending as you run away from what you want more than anything in this moment.

The footsteps behind you begin to fade, and as your breathing gets heavier and harsher, you realize you won’t be able to keep this pace; your best shot is running hard in short bursts and stopping to rest in between. You reach another clearing, much smaller than the one you had started out in, and lined with an assortment of bushes and a fallen tree. Just as you hunch over to catch your breath, you hear the return of those stomping footsteps, far behind you, but there all the same. The sharp pain ricocheting through your chest is warning enough to stop you from running again, and your eyes dart around in a panic, finally honing in on an area of the brush that looks thick enough to conceal you in your dark clothing, if you strip out of your light purple flannel.

As the footsteps draw closer, you hurriedly dive into the tangle of leaves and branches of the brush, ripping your flannel off of your arms as you go. You wince at the scrape of thorns and sticks on the soft, bare skin of your arms, but claw your way deeper, crouching down to conceal your body and twirling on your tippy-toes to peer through the leaves into the clearing.

It’s Jean, tall and imposing as he marches into the clearing. His chest is heaving under his shirt, hair mussed from running through the autumn wind. You marvel at him, so large and threatening, eyes blown wide and flicking from one area to another suspiciously, looking. Looking for you.

“Pet?” Jean whirls around, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Are you hiding from me?”

You don’t dare make a sound, positive that your heart is pounding so hard that if someone looked at your neck, they’d be able to see the frantic push and pull of your pulse through the skin. Jean surveys the area, narrowing his eyes at the brush where you’re hiding, but miraculously, turning his head the other way. You need to keep moving, especially considering that you’re so close to Jean, but with the increasingly small distance between you, there’s no way that you’ll be able to quietly sneak out of the brush. Just as you’re formulating a plan to wait and see which way he runs next, so you can run in the opposite direction, Jean’s eyes catch on something that makes your breath hitch.

“Uh-oh,” Jean exhales, stepping closer to you and crouching, his grin growing darker. When his hand comes back into your line of sight, you nearly gasp, one hand flying to the naked top of your head. He’s holding your beanie, grinning down at it. Hardly another moment passes before Jean’s eyes flicker to you, darkening as soon as you make eye contact through the leaves.

“Shit,” you breathe, scrambling back onto your hands and crawling desperately through the branches and leaves behind you, grimacing as a particularly sharp thorn scratches deep into your cheek.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jean laughs cruelly, jumping over the fallen tree trunk and towering over you as soon as you’ve escaped the brush. You stumble to your feet, but Jean’s quick, snagging you by the elbow before you can run off.

“Jean, please,” you gasp, looking up at him with wide, panicked eyes. It occurs to you that now that you’ve been caught, you’re not begging to be let go of– you’re begging to be held. Now that you’re so close to him, face to face with the shine of sweat on his collarbones, the rise and fall of his broad chest, your arousal is tangible, pumping through your veins thick like honey. You wet your lips, feeling the source of your panting move from your lungs to your core.

“Oh,” Jean’s bottom lip pushes out, “what’s the matter? Want to be my little princess again, is that it?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod frantically, looking over your shoulder and then Jean’s to see if Eren’s approaching to spoil your plan, “please Jean. Want to be your princess.”

“Aw,” Jean hums thoughtfully, cocking his head and looking down on you with pitying eyes for just long enough that you smile softly in relief, feel a rush of anticipation shoot through you. Unconsciously, you tilt your chin up, expectant and ready for him to catch you in a kiss. In the next instant, he’s gripping your arm even harder, with a jerk that makes your eyes water. “Too bad. You’re not my little princess out here.”

Your heart drops to your stomach, a clammy sweat breaking over your skin. Just as you’re about to plead one last time, Jean gives you a cruel smile.

“Eren! I’ve got her!” Jean shouts into the woods, turning his head over his shoulder to help the sound carry.

“Jean!” Your betrayal and frustration make your voice hoarse. Jean leans in to you, grinning wickedly.

“If I were you, I’d run. He’s not going to be nearly as nice as me.”

You wrench your arm out of his grasp, turning on your heel and darting further into the woods, grimacing at the feel of your wetness soaking through your panties. Jean’s footsteps are quick to catch up with you; or, at least, you think they’re Jean’s. You’re not going to break your stride to chance a look. You can’t outpace him, but you’re small and nimble enough that you think you may be able to outmaneuver him. You zigzag wildly through the trees, and it seems to be working, as Jean’s footsteps grow softer and softer behind you. Your lungs burn and your eyes water viciously, but you don’t dare relinquish the small distance you’ve managed to put between yourself and Jean, forcing your aching muscles to push harder and harder.

Suddenly, you spot it: a treehouse, with a little wooden ladder dangling from the bottom. It sounds like Jean’s footsteps are far enough behind you to afford you plenty of time to scramble up the ladder, at the very least to plan your next move. It wouldn’t be so bad if he saw you, either; the treehouse, as derelict as it may look, affords a nice sheltered spot for Jean to corner you in…

Your feet make the decision before your mind has the chance to catch up, and you’re beelining towards the treehouse, approaching it quickly. When you step on the first rung of the ladder, you feel the porous, rotten wood give a little underneath your weight, but the pounding of footsteps approaching urges you on. You make it two more steps up when one of the treacherous wooden rungs snaps under the pressure.

“Shit!” You squeal, clutching the ladder harder in an attempt not to tumble to the forest floor. You persevere, looking forward to whatever could await you if the boys were to follow you up to the treehouse. Two more steps up and you’re halfway there, but a pair of strong arms lock around your waist and pull you towards the ground with a harsh yank, ripping a yelp from your throat.

“Not a bad try,” you instantly recognize Eren’s voice, but what you don’t recognize is the rasp to it, the gravelly, dark tone, “but you didn’t really think you could run from me, did you?”

You thrash so violently that you think you must have hit him, because he drops you suddenly with a hiss. As soon as your feet hit the ground you take a few blind, wobbly steps in the opposite direction, only to run smack into Jean’s chest. You look up, wide, watery eyes blinking at Jean as your dizzied brain tries to grasp onto what’s at hand. You’re caught. They caught you.

“Going somewhere?” Jean sneers, grabbing you by your wrists and whipping you around to face Eren. The sight you’re greeted with has you squeezing your thighs together, a thick swallow sliding down your throat.

Eren’s eyes are blown wide, the bottomless black of his pupils nearly eclipsing the beautiful green you’re used to admiring. There’s a little sheen of sweat covering him, making him almost glow in the late afternoon light, and the veins in his neck are prominent with his heavy breathing. He runs his tongue over the now-split portion of his lip, courtesy of you, smearing a bit of blood over his mouth, and drags his eyes along every inch of you like he isn’t quite sure where he wants to start.

“I thought I told you to run,” Jean says, hot and taunting against the shell of your ear, “but it didn’t look like you tried very hard. Almost makes me think you wanted to be caught.”

“Of course she did,” Eren answers for you, stepping forward to run a thoughtful thumb across your cheek, making you flinch when he brushes over a cut on your face, “you want to get fucked, don’t you?”

You’re not sure what to do, whether you should nod your head enthusiastically or choke out a stuttered word of confirmation or maybe bite back; you feel frozen, overwhelmed by their looming figures and the fiery hot adrenaline still pumping through your veins. Eren decides for you, rubbing his thumb over your lips, and shoving it into your mouth. A coppery taste washes over your tongue, and you realize it’s your blood, fresh from the cut on your face. You suck his thumb in obediently, let him fishhook his thumb in your cheek, tugging your mouth this way and the other. Eren spits right in your mouth, nearly missing and splattering it all over your chin and cheeks.

“Nasty little bitch,” Eren snarls, shoving his mouth to yours.

What he does to you can barely be described as a kiss; it’s more like Eren devouring you. Teeth clack together, his tongue shoves into your mouth so violently you nearly bite down in your surprise. Eren sucks your tongue into his mouth, groaning low and hungry when you whimper.

“You taste good,” Eren murmurs hurriedly into your mouth, biting harshly on your lip and grinning against you when it makes you whine, “can taste the blood from that cut on your cheek.”

Jean stutters out a groan from behind you, his restraining grip on your wrists tightening. You feel his mouth begin to venture down your neck much like it had before, but his teeth are more demanding as they sink into your soft skin this time, more intent on taking, on marking you. One of Eren’s hands finds its way to your chest, grabbing harshly at your breast through your shirt. The ache of his strong fingers makes your back arch towards him, a breathless gasp leaving your lips.

“Show me,” Eren pants, finally backing away from you and ripping at your tank top, yanking it towards your head. There’s a shiny mixture of saliva and your blood staining his chin pink; shamefully, it makes a fresh rush of heat fly through your body, makes the wetness collecting between your thighs that much more prominent.

“We’re outside–” you try to protest, but a corrective slap to your ass from Jean shuts you up.

“No one’s around,” Jean says, mouth back on your shoulder as soon as Eren’s removed the offending garment from you, “it’s just us.”

“No one’s going to hear you scream,” Eren voices what you’re thinking with a nasty grin, bringing a hand to each of the cups of your bra and gripping the plush fabric hard enough to turn his knuckles white, tearing the connective fabric with a loud rip. 

“Eren!” You squeal in surprise, practically jumping in Jean’s arms.

“That’s it,” Eren groans, leaning down and lathing his tongue across a deep cut above your right breast, something you hadn’t noticed in your fearful escape from the bush earlier, “let me fucking hear you.”

Jean’s got your wrists contained in one of his large hands, not minding the swing of your ruined bra around each of your arms, reaching his other hand around your waist to fiddle desperately with the clasp of your jeans.

“Eren,” he says sharply, drawing Eren’s attention to the fact that your pants are still on. Eren smirks.

“Pick her up,” he answers, voice gravelly. Jean lifts you off the ground, your back pressed to his chest, feet dangling in the air. Eren rips both of your boots off, tossing them to the forest floor. Still pissed about your bra, truthfully, you jerk a foot out harsh enough to hurt him if it should make contact, trying to keep your movement spastic enough to make it look like an accident. Eren dodges and looks at you murderously, returning to his full height to grab your chin harshly.

“Did you just try to fucking kick me?” His forehead is pressed nearly to yours, voice low. Busted.

“You tore my bra.” Your voice has none of the conviction you were trying to find in the depths of your chest, coming out breathy and weak. A sound that can only be described as a snarl rips from Eren’s chest.

“Yeah, I fucking did,” Eren smacks your cheek just hard enough to stun you, make sure you’re really listening to him, “we caught you. Understand that? We’re going to do what we want with you because you’re ours. Keep smarting off, and I’ll rip your panties off next and shove ‘em in that bratty mouth of yours. Got it?”

Speechless, you nod desperately, squirming as the heat between your legs begins to grow unbearable, that tacky, sticky arousal surely beginning to leak down your thighs at this point. Eren makes quick work of your jeans and your underwear, hissing appreciatively as your panties stick to the wetness between your thighs.

“You’re so wet, pet,” Jean reaches around to swipe his hand through your folds. That alone is enough to make your knees buckle, make a wanton moan slip out from your lips.

“I–I want– oh.” You try and fail to articulate a sentence, cut off entirely by a loud groan when Eren’s teeth sink into the supple skin of your breast. Eren grins around the mouthful of flesh he holds between his teeth, raising his eyebrows at how riled up you already are.

“Pitiful little thing,” Jean chuckles, voice husky, “look how bad she wants it.”

Jean reaches down and shoves two fingers straight into your slick cunt, ripping a strangled moan out of your throat. Your hips buck into his hand of their own accord, desperate, tinny whines and whimpers leaving your mouth in quick succession. The stretch of Jean’s fingers is so welcome after all the build-up, that you don’t think you could put it into words if you tried. On behalf of your useless mouth, your body makes a great show of trying to show them just how good their attention feels, rolling and rocking into their touch, no matter how harsh.

Eren digs his fingers into the fat of your hips, your thighs, your ass, gripping you close to him and biting into whatever flesh of your upper body that he can reach as hard as he can, surely coming close to drawing blood. They aren’t the type of bites that require suction and the lathing of a tongue to soothe and leave hickeys; no, these are the type of bites that bruise on impact, little purple half-moons of teeth marks decorating your arms, shoulders, and breasts.

Jean coos in your ear approvingly each time your hips cant towards his hand, seeking more and more friction as the knot in your stomach tightens with each curl of his fingers. You can feel him pressing into your lower back, hard and promising, and your pussy flutters around his fingers at the thought of being split open by him, by Eren, by anything more that they’re willing to give you.

“Want to fuck her,” Eren huffs, “she close?”

“She’ll cum soon,” Jean affirms, licking through the shell of your ear delicately. You revel in the way they talk about you as if you’re not here, as if you possess no consciousness worthy of interacting with. You feel stripped of your higher thought processes, reduced into some pathetic, pliant creature only in search of pleasure– and you love it.

“Please,” you attempt to beg, only to be silenced by Eren’s long fingers wrenching their way down your throat.

“Stop talking,” Eren grumbles around a mouthful of your flesh, “pets don’t talk, do they?”

That draws a heady whine from you, your hips twitching forwards into Jean’s hand eagerly, a blatant attempt to pull forth the orgasm that’s been brewing between your hip bones for the last five minutes. Jean chuckles at your struggles, works his fingers just a bit faster.

“Go on,” Jean whispers, “it’s just us out here. Be as loud as you want, pet. We’re going to need you good and wet, so go ahead, cum hard for us.”

“C’mon, what are you waiting for? Fucking cum already.” Eren echoes Jean’s sentiment from your breasts, licking at another smear of blood just under your nipple.

Your body thrashes in their grip, begging for and yet resistant to the overwhelming waves of pleasure wracking through it. Loud squeals escape from your full mouth, even from where Eren’s got your lips stretched wide around three of his bulky fingers.

“Let us see what you can do, pet,” Jean murmurs, thick and warm against your ear, “just for us, come on.”

With one more vicious curl of Jean’s fingers, your back is arching violently, a muffled scream echoing into the canopy of trees around you as your release hits you hard. You can feel the wetness smearing between your thighs, feel the effort Jean’s exerting into keeping you still and in one place as you buck against him. Eren growls in approval and sinks to his knees, biting harshly into your thigh before sucking your clit into his mouth. That only serves to make you fight harder, the overstimulation getting the better of you.

Eren’s only able to lap at the sensitive folds between your legs for a moment before your twitching thighs threaten to knock him in the head, jerking closed of their own accord. Eren chuckles and smacks the inside of your leg a few times, rising to his feet and smirking at you.

“You squirming? Too much?” Eren sneers, gripping your jaw in his hand and forcing you to keep your half-lidded eyes on him. You push against his grip as hard as you can to shake your head no, earning yourself a pleased glimmer amongst the darkened green of his eyes. “More? You want more?”

When you nod frantically, Eren grins so wide his canines wink at you in the setting sun, flits his gaze over your shoulder to meet Jean’s eye.

“Get her on the ground.”

Jean complies, forcing you to your hands and knees in the dirt. Something about being so exposed, bare and open for them in the ground like this, has your blood running hot in an entirely new way. Neither of them have taken so much as their outer layer off, pinning you between them like…like their little pet. You can feel yourself grow even wetter; it may as well be dripping down your thighs at this point. You hear one of them kneeling behind you, can feel the head of a cock swiping through the mess between your legs.

“So fucking wet,” Eren hisses from over your shoulder, grabbing at your hips and kneading the skin. A hand comes to your chin, tilts your head up.

“Open up, pet,” Jean says, biting into his bottom lip. Obediently, you drop your jaw, tongue out, and blink up at him invitingly, more than eager for the weight of him in your mouth. Jean groans at the sight, slipping the tip of his drooling cock onto your tongue. You swipe your tongue over the tip, eyes rolling back at the taste of salt and sweat and Jean. Jean wastes no time in pushing to the back of your throat, tapping your gag reflex.

Any hope you had of suppressing the cough that threatens you when Jean pushes into your throat is ripped away by Eren shoving himself into you from behind, pushing you an inch too far down Jean’s cock and making you retch.

“All stuffed full of cock, aren’t you?” Eren grunts, driving into you and setting a brutal pace off the bat. You’re powerless to do much else besides squeal and whine around Jean’s cock, punctuating your muffled moans with the occasional gag when Jean taps the back of your throat.

Jean spits several times into the palm of his hand, never losing his pace thrusting into your mouth. If you had any more presence of mind, you’d frown up at him questioningly, but any doubts about his intentions are resolved when he leans over you, spreading his spit over your asshole.

“I want to take her too,” Jean says to Eren, who leans down to spit directly on your only unoccupied hole, lubing you up, “get her ready.”

Eren only offers an affirmative grunt, circling your hole a few times before pushing his thumb in up to the hilt; you’d taken them both only last night, so you don’t require all that much prep, but Eren’s thick fingers are a shock all the same. You squeal around Jean, who shushes you and runs his fingers soothingly along the crown of your head. You lean into his gentle touch, only for him to tighten his grip around the tangled wreck of your hair and shove you down onto his cock harder.

“Told you you’re not my princess anymore,” Jean chuckles darkly above you, driving his hips forward to the same rhythm Eren pounds into you from behind, “not out here.”

Eren’s been busying himself preparing your asshole, up to what feels like three fingers, but with the girth of Eren’s hands, you can never be sure. To have every bit of you full and used is an out of body experience; it’s not something you don’t experience regularly with the both of them, but to be taken so brutally out in the open, to be fucked in such an animalistic way, nearly shuts your brain off.

Eren gives you a few final thrusts before pulling himself entirely from you, causing Jean to follow suit and leaving you empty and whining. You’re tugged to your feet before you can even begin to form a sentence to beg for them back, stumbling in the crunchy leaves under your feet. Eren scoops you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep you firmly pressed to him.

His cock drags along the folds between your legs, and he presses his forehead to yours, short, heavy breaths leaving him in huffs.

“Ready, pet?” Eren mutters into your open, waiting mouth, “ready to take what you were made for?”

Before you can offer anything more than a half-hearted plea, Jean is pressing into you, the all-consuming stretch of him rendering you mute. Eren never stops boring his gaze into yours, something sparking and spitting and wanting in his eyes, demanding more from you. He drinks down your squeal of surprise, spreads your ass cheeks open so Jean can get at you deeper, digging into depths you rarely find yourself aware of.

“She’s still so tight,” Jean growls, sinking his teeth into your neck, smiling around the mouthful when you moan wantonly.

“Give him some more, hm?” Eren, forehead still tacky and stuck to yours, grabs for Jean’s hand, angling it under your mouth. Through your desperate little hiccups of pleasure, you understand; you spit into Jean’s hand, opening your mouth so that a thick line of drool can slick his fingers up further. Eren grins, evil and satisfied. “Good job, pet.”

Jean uses the saliva you’ve given him to wet the last few inches of himself, pushing in to the base with a loud groan. You can almost feel the tangible eye contact they exchange; they love to look at each other unraveling when they’re inside you. “Your turn.”

Eren—no, Jean?—digs his fingers into your hips, making you whimper at the thought of the bruises sure to follow his grip, slides his cock into you slowly and forcefully, like he’s proving a point. The stretch of him– no, of both of them inside you, isn’t anything new, but in this setting, after all the build-up? You’re wailing, openly, your cries echoing off the trees as you thrash in their firm hold, overstimulated and overwhelmed and overpleasured all at once.

“Sh, sh,” Jean shushes you sternly, pinning your head back against his shoulder with a firm fist to the nape of your neck, “take it, don’t fight it.”

“Feel so fucking good, pet,” Eren says gruffly, giving a tentative half-thrust and making all of you moan, “like you’re fucking made for taking cock.”

“She is,” Jean coos, beginning to rock into you in the same easy rhythm as Eren, “just look at her. Not one thought behind those pretty eyes.”

He’s right; your eyes have glazed over entirely, mouth hanging ajar as they take and take and take from you. You can feel an orgasm quickly taking shape in the pit of your stomach, wrapping around itself and squeezing, threatening to pull you under. You’re so blissed out you can’t even be sure of what you’re feeling. Full, exposed, primal, half-conscious; all of those words surely would make the list if you could pull any of them to the front of your mind at the moment.

Your thighs are quivering around Eren’s waist, tightening viciously around his hips as they drive into you, suspending you between two walls of hard muscle. You know your cunt follows suit when Eren groans loudly, jaw dropping slightly.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Slutty little thing,” Eren grunts against you, eyes flicking back and forth between you and Jean, “begging to get your cunt filled like a bitch in heat.”

“That is what you want, isn’t it?” Jean practically whispers into your ear, words wrapping around the knot in your stomach and holding it together, “want to get bred, don’t you, pet?”

Eren’s eyes go wide for just a moment, his gaze fixated on Jean. You can feel him pause briefly, twitch inside of you, and then before even a full second has passed, Eren’s determined scowl has twisted his face again, and he’s hammering into you like his life depends on it.

“Is that what you want?” Eren demands of you, eyeing you.

“Tell him,” Jean says to you, like the devil on your shoulder, “tell him how badly you want it. Go on.”

“I–I–” The tears running down your face collect in your mouth, making you hiccup and spit and choke on your words. Eren grabs your face fiercely, forcing you to look at him.

“Say it,” Eren snarls, “tell me you want this slutty pussy stuffed full of cum, our cum.”

“I want your cum,” you whimper pathetically, words stuttering and tripping as they spill from your swollen lips, “want to be full of it, want to get bred.”

“Fuck,” Eren nearly throws his head back, somehow moving his hips faster. Your legs dangle uselessly beside him; every muscle in your body contracts and relaxes wildly as your orgasm sinks its claws into you, threatens to pull you under. The only things tethering you to your body at this point are Eren’s eyes on you, bright and feral, and Jean’s hands around your hips, keeping you in place for them to pound into. You can feel the tidal wave coming up in your throat, your moans and whines growing more and more frantic, your head feeling lighter with each passing moment.

“Such a good girl– good little pet for us,” Jean slurs, hips beginning to falter in their rhythm, “show us how bad you want our cum, let us feel you–fuck–”

“So fucking good,” Eren laughs almost hysterically as you finally snap and cum around them, slapping your face lightly and egging you on, “there she goes.”

Every nerve ending in your body feels like it’s on fire, little shocks of electricity flying down your limbs and making you jerk and flail and contract. You can feel your fingers digging into the skin of Eren’s biceps until they meet something wet and warm, and you know you’ve drawn blood, but you’re spiraling through rapturous pleasure so intensely that you couldn’t release your grip if you tried.

The way you tighten viciously around them has Jean falling over the edge right after you, his hips stuttering and coming to a still pressed against you. He tugs your face to the side, pulling you in for a sloppy, honestly disgusting, kiss, panting heavily into your mouth and mouthing around praises that he’s too spent to fully pronounce. You can feel Eren’s eyes on you both, feel the way his thrusts are starting to grow more frantic. Jean turns your face to meet Eren’s gaze, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Look at her, Eren,” Jean shakes your face a little for emphasis, “needs cum in both her holes, not just one.”

As if to emphasize his statement, Jean pulls out of you, a gush of his cum joining the mess between your legs. Eren throws his head back and groans, nods urgently.

“Said we’d stuff her full, right? Breed her? That’s what she wants, isn’t it, pet?” Jean sneers, landing a smack to your cheek.

“Uh-huh,” you babble mindlessly, body trembling with the force of the aftershocks of your orgasm, “p-please Eren, breed me, I need it–”

“Gonna cum in you,” Eren pants, grabbing your hair so hard you wince, “can you take it? Take all of it ‘til you’re bred and full of me?”

“Yes,” you whimper, nodding against him, “yes, please, I–”

“Give it to her,” Jean’s fisted his hand at the nape of Eren’s neck now, pulling all of you so close that you’re drinking down each other’s breaths, “she’s worked so hard for it, give her what she needs.”

That’s all it takes; Jean’s encouragement has Eren spilling inside you with a lengthy, choked groan. With what little energy you have left, you pepper soft kisses along his neck, knowing how his muscles must be burning with how they’re twitching under his skin. Eren’s fingers are digging into you so hard it hurts, already aching, but you let him cling to you, ride out his orgasm as Jean threads his fingers through the hairs at the base of Eren’s neck soothingly.

You all stay this way for a moment, Jean supporting the majority of your body weight as Eren begins to sag into you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. The breeze swirls by, leaving cold kisses on every inch of your bare skin, reminding you that you’re out in the open, making you miss your sweater.

“Guys?” You speak feebly into the crisp air, blinking sleepily.

“Holy shit,” Eren laughs breathlessly into the crook of your shoulder, pulling you close to him in a sticky hug, “that was–”

“Crazy,” Jean agrees with a disbelieving chuckle, helping you down onto your shaky legs.

“I am…very naked.” You point out weakly, swaying on your sore thighs. Jean’s quick to slide an arm around your shoulders and tug you to him, while Eren wrangles his hoodie over his head to offer you.

“There’s not another house for five miles in either direction,” Jean assures you, lifting your arms so that Eren can pull his hoodie over you, “wouldn’t ever let anybody see you like this, you know that.”

“Better?” Eren, still a little winded, tugs the hoodie down around your thighs, looking you over. He swipes a thumb across the cut on your cheek, an impish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “We really roughed you up, didn’t we? I’m sorry, angel.”

“I liked it.” Your eyes are already falling shut; you barely have the energy for a sleepy smile when Eren presses his lips to your hairline. Jean scoops you up into his arms; all the cardio that he does at the gym is making itself known.

“Was it good, princess? Have fun?” Jean murmurs against your forehead.

“So much fun.” You open one eye to see Jean and Eren glance at each other, see the spark of love between them. It comforts you; even amongst the near-constant shivers wracking through your body, the warmth of their presence and the steady rocking of Jean’s steps lull your eyes shut.

“Thank god she ended up running just about to the backyard,” Eren huffs from somewhere to your right, still sounding very much like he hasn’t caught his breath, “I’m fuckin’ beat.”

“It’s because you don’t do enough cardio, bro.” You can hear Jean’s insistent eyebrow raise and visualize Eren’s answering eye roll, chuckling to yourself in Jean’s arms.

“Cardio’s for bitches, I’m bulking right now–”

“Did you listen to anything the team trainer said in college? Honestly–”

“That was three years ago–”

Somewhere amongst their arguing you doze off, letting yourself go limp in Jean’s arms. When you wake again, Jean’s walking you up a flight of stairs, angling you this way and the other to avoid hitting your head on the railing. Jean flits his eyes down towards you and acknowledges your consciousness with a soft smile, carrying you into a bedroom and sitting you on the bed. Wordlessly, Jean and Eren go about their usual routine of cleaning up after a particularly rough session: Jean runs a bath while Eren fetches some antiseptic for the scratches on your face and arms, Eren nearly gets distracted when you start running your fingernails through his hair but Jean gets you both back on track, somehow fitting all three of you in the largest bathtub you’ve ever seen.

Before you know it, you’ve been scrubbed clean, all the grime gone from your skin and the twigs pulled from your hair, and sandwiched between Eren and Jean under a heavy duvet.

“All better, right?” Eren murmurs against your forehead, pressing a kiss to it.

“All better,” you hum, nuzzling into his chest, “but I don’t want to waste the weekend. We’re only here until Sunday– do we really need to nap?”

“I threw dinner into the smoker while Eren was drying you off,” Jean says, words floating over your shoulder from where he’s curled up behind you, “we have at least two hours ‘til it’s cooked through properly.”

“And you need a nap,” Eren grins mischievously, “you had a big afternoon.”

“I’m not the only one,” you giggle up at him, “I heard you wheezing on the walk back.”

Eren scowls, only to have the furrow in his brow smoothed over by Jean’s thumb. You watch in awe as he instantly melts into Jean’s palm, such a volatile man so easily soothed by a gentle touch. As Eren’s mood begins to settle, you feel the atmosphere in the room change; the blankets feel just a bit heavier, the rise and fall of Jean’s chest against your back quells your breathing into the same rhythm, and the circles Eren’s thumb is rubbing into your hip have your eyes beginning to flutter.

“Naps for all three of us,” Jean says, leaving no room for argument, "I set an alarm. I won’t let you sleep through the weekend, I promise."

Something about the warmth and familiarity tucked under the covers with the three of you has your mind ambling on towards sleep, even after your weak attempts to protest. As you drift off, you can hear the quiet, wet noises of Jean and Eren exchanging a goodnight kiss above your head, feel the reassuring squeeze of their arms around your waist, the brush of lips against the nape of your neck, the tip of your nose. There’s a little murmured “I love you” from each of them, and though your mouth wants to form the words to respond, all you’re able to manage is a soft, contented smile as you drift off.

[synthetickitsune]

Heyy I heard you're doing requests and was wondering if you could write one on svt mingyu.

Where he takes you for a night drive around tokyo on a hot summers night, window down and chill music. The atmosphere makes him look ethereal, and when he looks over at you to ask you if you're okay, you begin to realise you're falling for your best friend.

Mingyu (SVT) | Night Drive fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader

The engine purrs, a low hum there as the background noise of the music playing from the speakers. You keep your eyes on the road, your hand hanging out of the rolled down window, wind swishing past you. It’s a warm night, so you keep your hoodie thrown in the back. You tap the door to the slow rhythm of the music, nodding your head. Your eyes feel a little heavy, but you refuse to fall asleep. You’re not even tired. It just feels so safe, too safe.

You focus your eyes on the road, try to, but it remains a little blurry. The street lights lining it glow a comfortable yellow color that makes you think of when you longed to explore the streets when you were too young to wander alone. You smile thinking of how happy your younger self would be if they knew that in a couple years a trip of a lifetime is waiting for them. You stifle a yawn.

“Tired? We can go back to the hotel,” Mingyu asks, transferring one hand from the steering wheel to your thigh, rubbing it up and down in a reassuring gesture.

You shake your head. “Not tired, just happy.”

He doesn’t believe you, you can tell he doesn’t from the way he laughs - lowly, in the back of his throat, but you don’t bicker with him. You’re lazy to even speak.

The road keeps passing. The wind keeps caressing and pushing against your hand. The lights still shine. It’s making you sleepy. You watch the lines on the road stretching into infinity while getting devoured by the shadows of the car. You wish the night could stretch forever too. You wish you didn’t have to be afraid of falling asleep, of losing the precious time.

You turn your head a little to watch Mingyu as he drives. You hope it’s gonna help clear your head, but he’s a little blurry at the edges too. He looks good, though, you decide, with the particular lighting hitting his skin. Like a fever dream, like if you reached out, he’d disappear. You watch his muscles flex as he turns the steering wheel, watch him reach for the cold can in the cup holder and take a drink. You watch him swallow, fascinated by the tiny movements of the muscles in his neck. Then a drop of condensation runs down the can, over his fingers and down his neck. You let it hypnotize you, your eyes following its trail.

Suddenly your throat is dry and you swallow, the sound too loud in the mostly quiet car. You want to drink the drop sliding down his body. In your mind, that’s the only bit of water that could quench your thirst. So you rather blink up and look at his face again, let the drop disappear in the fabric of his shirt.

His eyes are focused on the road, but still so warm. Not too focused, not like when he’s working. It’s the same look when he helps you cook, concentrated on keeping you both safe. It makes him look reliable. Handsome. He is handsome anyway, everyone knows that. But this is the best you’ve seen him look.

You turn your body completely, as much as the seat belt allows, so you can see him better, your full attention on him. His eyes, so gentle even when he’s not looking at you but especially then, his nose, his cute cheeks, his pretty lips. His lips. You want them to melt against your own. You crave the warmth. The comfort. 

He’s the reason you feel so sleepy. He makes you feel so safe and comfortable, even if he’s not doing much. You pout thinking about it. Thinking about how nice his hand felt on your thigh. You think you’d sleep better with him in your bed. The room is small anyway. Just one bed would be enough.

“You’re tired,” Mingyu suddenly speaks up, his voice firm but gentle, quiet, “You’re not thinking straight.”

That doesn’t matter, does it? It’s just you and him. You’re safe. He wouldn’t let you fuck up.

“Seriously,” his voice softens when he adds your name, “It’s too late. You’ve been up all day. See if you feel the same tomorrow.”

And the day after that, and then the next. You know you will. You open your mouth to say it, but close it again when you feel his warm palm cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin.

“I know,” he whispers, “I want it too. But we have to get braver first.”

You want to argue. You’re brave enough. He’s a coward. He left you all alone in the haunted house that one time. You’re brave enough. It’s just so late and your eyes are heavy.

But tomorrow, tomorrow for sure…

[foreverisntenough]

Y/N is so fiercely protective of Trent and I just know that when he comes back from matches where he either didn’t play or someone fouled him etc she’d go off on a tangent and Trent would be like trying to stop her. She’d be like “I can’t believe he didn’t get a foul or a yellow card and like everyone saw it and the ref did nothing the stupid ref and he’s so lucky I wasn’t there and-“ and Trent would be like “babe, breathe”.

Sorry got carried away, I just love your series so much 😭😅

I love this! This made me laugh. I feel like that’s their vibe as well. Y/N being in a panic and Trent being like ‘baby chill out.’

TYSM for sending!

--------- My tiny one shot below for you 🤍

‘Mighty Red’ - 1.2k words

↳ Y/N is fuming after the Liverpool Man City fixture but Trent doesn’t seem too pressed. *If your a city fan- probably don’t read lol

Other ForeverIsntEnough One Shots

---------

“Honestly though it just pisses me off because they get away with everything. That’s a fucking foul every time. Like I don’t understand what are we using VAR for at this point because it doesn’t seem to matter. It’s a card! He had you by the neck of your shirt. I would’ve hit him if I was you. What a fucking prick. I wanted to run down there and kick him in the balls like get the fuck off my man.” You rattled on in Trent’s car as he drove you home after a game at Anfield. The Liverpool City match had ended with a tie as its result and you were less than impressed.

“Wow tell me how you really feel.” Trent laughed a little as he flicked his eyes to the side towards you momentary as he drove on the M62. The lights from the motorway filled the car and splashed across your face. He couldn’t help but think you looked beautiful in your rage.

“I should’ve gone down to the pitch to yell at the ref frankly like he’s so stupid. Why are they all so dumb? It doesn’t bother you? Like this is fucking crazy. They are cheating, T. Blatantly cheating.” You yelped out continuing on with your rant. You were fuming after the matches result. There had been a incorrect (in your opinion) call from the referee that even went to VAR to be reviewed. A City player had dragged Trent down onto the pitch by the collar of his jersey after a trip and you thought it was insane the player got away unscathed, not even a card.

“I don’t know, baby. I mean what am I meant to do? I can do my 90 plus on the pitch but that’s the only difference I can really make. Only chance for impact.” Trent responded in a calm voice but with a smug smirk thinking your passion and fury at the moment was pretty funny and definitely cute.

“Well that’s shitty.” You huffed in response. You pulled your legs up onto your seat to sit in a ball, folding your arms around your knees and pulling them into you.

“Well that’s the way it is beautiful.” Trent told you and tapped at your knee telling you the get your feet, still in trainers off his car seat. He hated when anyone got his car remotely dirty and you were not exempt. No rage was going to be enough to allow that.

“I fucking hate them. Everything about that stupid club. You know what else is ridiculous? The dumb mascot, what even is that? Like what an absolute joke of a club.” Your brow furrowed as you dropped your legs back down but shuffled to turn to look at him driving, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Baby, I don’t even know what it is? Why do you even know?” He started to laugh at how ridiculous of a point you were making. You pulled your bent knee onto the seat to get comfortable again and as much as you tried to hold your expression of anger you couldn’t.

“Stop!” You began to giggle as well. “I don’t know why! Okay? But it’s fucking dumb. You know what’s not dumb? A bird. You know what is also dumb that stupid ref.” Your rationale for why you disagreed with tonight’s outcome was dismantling slowly but surely as you got closer and closer to your house. Your argument was crumbling referring to mascots, saying that Liverpool’s liver bird was far superior.

“Birds not dumb… noted. Refs… dumb. Duly noted.” Trent kept laughing at you, reaching over once more to pat your knee not with instruction but with confirmation to your words.

“T… you have to be fuming you’ve lost the league to them by a point before like this tie is bull shit.” You pleaded for some sort of emotion from him. You leaned forward resting your elbows on the center console holding your face in your hands looking up at him.

“Thank you for bringing up that very pleasant memory but I told you I can only play the game.” He responded and your lip rolled into a frown.

“You’re being too calm and it’s annoying.” You finally decided maybe you needed to give up because he clearly wasn’t going to get on the same page of vexation as you tonight.

“If I got riled up after each game I’d be exhausted and just upset. It’s a waste of my time, energy, and emotions. You know all this.” He cooed turning toward you a bit and a sympathetic smile. He picked up your chin with a free hand. He rubbed his thumb over your jawline gently waiting at the last stop light on the roads before you reached home.

“Boo! I don’t want to know about your mindful ways. You should be mad with me.” You huffed. You just wanted to vent with him and yell about how much you hated the opposition. You’d done it before but tonight, even in the confines of your car, Trent was choosing professionalism.

“Okay, pretty girl.” He cooed kissing your lips with a quick peck before turning back to focus on the winding roads leading into your neighborhood. You arrived eventually after falling more silent as Trent pulled down your drive. He parked and grabbed his bags ahead of coming around to the passager side. “To be clear baby… I know they are the fucking worst.” He whispered pulling you into a hug at the door of the car before heading in.

“I knew it! I knew you fucking hated them too. Like we should be yelling fuck City!” you eagerly and fairly giddily said to him. You stepped forward into him and he shut the car door behind you. “Fuck them!” You yelped out into the night wrapping your arms around his waist resting your chin on his chest tilting your head upwards childishly to look at him.

“Fuck ‘em!” He yelled louder then you with a smile as he swayed back and forth with you in his arms in the driveway.

“Fuck ‘em.” You echoed him in the same volume before you fell into a giggle.” He looked down at you with a love in his eyes and kissed your lips. “City honestly sucks!” You giggled in between kisses.

“I love you. You’re a very very funny, pretty girl. Thank you for coming tonight. You look beautiful as always.” He cooed softly standing in the quiet drive illuminated by the lights of the house.

“Thank you, T. Wanted to look good for my man that City players need to leave the fuck alone.” You whispered with some cheek in response, ghosting your lips over his.

“You succeeded and you know what? Tie tonight on the pitch… still winning going home with you off it.” He cooed a response that managed to make your heart flutter. “And you’re right, birds… not dumb. Mighty red. Love him.” He began to laugh, turning to walk into the house. You gasped before falling into giggles of your own chasing after him. He was giving you shit for know what the city mascot looked like when he knew the damn name of his.

⇨ Read other ForeverIsntEnough here!

[buckysgrace]

Billy Hargrove Headcanons <3

Requested <3 I hope you enjoy my ramblings!!

Was such a cute baby with lil blonde curls, rosy cheeks and a soft nose that strangers always thought he was a little girl lol

Used to love when his mama would play with his hair. He hated naps as a child, but always passed out once she'd trace her fingertips across his soft cheeks and squishy nose

His mom loved holidays. Especially Halloween and Christmas. He spent many Halloweens dressed as a lion lol

She also took him to get ice cream on his birthdays <3 His favorite was chocolate.

Was really close to his grandma up until she passed away. Used to spend long afternoons and even stay for weekends when he was little, and Neil was working.

Loooooves sports. Has played a vast majority of them (baseball is his favorite). He played a different one each season while in school to get him away from the house

Worked all throughout high school. Had a ton of odd jobs

Also loved summer camp.

Enjoys deep sea fishing. Neil did a lot of trips with him as a sort of “apology” (he caught a bluefin tuna when he was 13 hehe)

He’s very very dry, has a sarcastic sense of humor <3

When he’s high he gets very relaxed and chill, very laid back. Will occasionally get giggly

Very good with his hands. He likes to tinker with things. Worked on his car a lot, likes to build things too (had a very impressive bird house that he built in woodshop)

He loves vegetables. Specifically tomatoes and bell peppers. Bites right into them, a nice lil snack

He's up at 3 in the morning?? He is devouring a jar of pepperoncini. maybe some shredded cheese

Not crazy about sweets, but if he has to pick something it would be some sort of fruit pie?? will also pound away at a pineapple upside down cake

makes a meaaaaan spicy Italian sandwich

Also crazy about protein. He's gotta bulk up ya know. Hates eggs though. They smell terrible and the texture is awful

Really good at math, loves working with numbers. He will chew on his pencil/pen while he's working out a problem (and if he accidentally eats the eraser?? that's his own business smh)

Got a lot of college offers because of his grades and talents in sports but didn't take any of them up. College just never seemed like his thing

Will hike his swimming trunks up to get a nice even tan on his upper thighs. The cutest little tan lines imaginable.

Reads while he sits on the toilet. Also smokes (and will purposely linger in the bathroom if Max knocks on the door smh)

Horror and mystery are his favorite genres. His all time favorite book is The Haunted Dancers.

Surprisingly good with kids. They just love him, sweet Mr. Billy hehe. Babies love at him. They will stare at him and enjoy snuggling into his arms :) And chewing on his arms lmao (or tugging on his hair smh)

Haaates the winter months. He does not like the cold at all and hates bundling up in thick layers even more (he's a man damn it he doesn't need any gloves smh)

Icy roads absolutely terrified him in Hawkins. He was not used to driving on them at all. An incredible snow ball former tho (he will hit you in the face with them rip)

The first time he heard the tornado siren go off he was alone with Max and had no idea what to do (she was outside trying to see it smh)

A little rain is okay but he prefers the sunny sunshine and heat to anything else <3

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have a rec list of fics with roadtrips! This is the perfect summer rec list, so we hope you check out these incredible fics and show them some love. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Enjoy The Ride | Not Rated | 11,103 words

“Stop sulking and get up. I have a proposition to make.” “Niall?” Louis questioned. “Do you think I should put glow in the dark stars on my ceiling?” He looked over and found Niall giving him an unimpressed look. “So, no?” Louis asked. “No stars?” “We’re going on a road trip,” Niall stated. Louis looked back at his starless ceiling and waved farewell to Niall. “Cool. Have fun!” “No, you idiot.” Niall let out a frustrated sigh. “You, me, Liam, and Harry.” Louis glanced over to Niall and back to the ceiling. “Who’s Harry?”

2) Kiss Me In Your Chevrolet | Explicit | 11,569 words

"Yes, Lou?" Harry asked, rubbing his tired eyes. A gust of wind came through the open windows, sending chills down Harry's arms as a light rain began falling outside. He closed his eyes again and let his head fall back to the couch arm rest. "Can we go there?" Louis asked, probably pointing somewhere. Harry opened his eyes and felt his heart jump in his chest, a magazine page a couple of inches away from his face. Startled, Harry closed his eyes and breathed heavily, trying to collect himself. Harry blinked a few times to focus his eyes on the page Louis still held in front of his nose. "You want to go to the Grand Canyon?" He furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to the left to look at Louis' face.

3) Love Is Like This; Not A Heartbeat, But A Moan | Explicit | 13,150 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

"He hates this, more than anything in the world he hates this. His title, his rank, his DNA. Unchangeable. Fated. And then there’s Harry, born to be unobjectively superior to Louis and all other O’s. Unlike other A’s, Harry doesn’t wear his alpha-ness very well. He’s clumsy with it, like walking around in a pair of shoes a size too big. His life is defined by uncertainty and tentativeness, and those are definitely not qualities alphas should have. Sometimes, when Louis ponders it for too long, he thinks that maybe Harry resents being an A just as much as Louis resents being an O."

4) All I Want Is To Fall With You | Mature | 16,524 words

The pair looked at each other for a few moments before Harry moved forward and gathered Louis in an unexpected hug. It was nice, but why the fuck was an unknown alpha hugging him? Maybe an even better question would be why did Louis feel so secure in this stranger's arms? Harry quickly let go and Louis felt something pull at him. "Sorry," Harry said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Shit, um, that just seemed a natural response for some reason. I’m so sorry." Louis smiled up at the alpha. "It's okay. Thanks again, Harry." "You're welcome. I know it's horrible weather, and less than optimal circumstances, but this was a brilliant meet-cute." What the fuck was a meet-cute?

5) These Roads We Stumble Down | Explicit | 18,233 words

Harry picks up a hitchhiker in Oxford, and it's a long ride to Glasgow.

6) We’re Not Who We Used To Be | Explicit | 30,611 words

“Harry…” Louis’ voice catches in his throat, thick with tears threatening to fall out, so he coughs to clear it before trying again. “Harry is Liam’s best man?” “You didn’t know?” Harry is standing at the entrance of the garage, mouth slightly open and face pulled together. He sets his bag on the ground and puts his hands on his hips. When he does that, he looks just like the Harry that Louis remembers (and loves, he thinks with an aching heart). “I’m sure I mentioned it,” Liam says, but Louis can tell he’s lying by the way he chews on his lower lip and twists his fingers together. “You’re all a bunch of dick heads, I’m getting in the car.” Louis isn’t sure if he’s being unreasonable. He has no idea what the protocol is when your ex-boyfriend shows up after three years and nobody bothered to give you a heads up. He’s pretty sure he’s allowed to be upset about it, even if it’s only for a bit.

7) Take The Back Roads | Explicit | 31,333 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

The one where Harry and Louis are roommates who are pining over each other and all they need is a road trip down the West Coast to bring them together.

8) Bluebird | Explicit | 39,046 words

The 2,789 miles between New York and Los Angeles is a long way to go alone.

9) From Dust To Lust | Explicit | 45,437 words

From the moment Louis set eyes on the gorgeous stranger across the airport terminal, he knew the guy was trouble, which was the last thing he wanted. He wouldn’t have thought spending two days cooped up in a car travelling from the Australian Outback to the East Coast would change his mind. It’s funny how things work out.

10) Made For Lovin' You | Explicit | 52,637 words

“I’m in,” is all Louis receives. He blinks a few times, making sure he’s reading this right. “For real?” he asks, just to be a hundred percent sure. “Yes,” pops up. “How do you wanna pursue?” The alpha adds, like he’s on a special mission or something. “I’m gonna call us a cab to go to mine. Once I know it’s here, I’ll leave and join you there,” Louis explains. “I’ll text you to go around five minutes before it arrives, so it doesn’t look suspicious, and our friends don’t notice us leaving together.” “Noted.” So Louis does, and ten minutes later, he’s sat in the backseat of a cab, next to Harry Styles, the person he hates the most but unfortunately still finds attractive. They’re on their way to fuck in Louis’ flat. Splendid.

11) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 59,877 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

12) Ghost Note Symphony | Explicit | 96,426 words

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago. It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to. That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

13) Nothing Worsens, Nothing Grows | Explicit | 102,528 words | Sequel

Another roadtrip AU featuring Harry as the misunderstood hipster, Louis as the bitter psych major, Liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and Niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[headkiss]

omg peter and reader taking a walk on some little trail and they push one another into leaf piles and being love sick idiots <3

this is so cute!!! tysm for the request <3 i went the pining best friends route rather than established relationship, hope that’s okay! | 0.6k of fluff!

You and Peter have been friends for what feels like forever. He’s in almost every memory you have, as far back as they go. Your childhood best friend, your now best friend, the only boy you’ve ever loved.

Growing up across the hall from each other had its perks. A mother figure in aunt May, someone to walk to school with, a door that was always open for you.

You’ve spent so much time with him that it’s sort of impossible to imagine things any other way. Not that you’d need to.

Late September has a chill seeping into the city. Leaves changing color, hands hidden in jacket pockets, cheeks and noses bitten by cold wind. Fall surrounds you and you don’t mind one bit. Not when Peter’s beside you, too.

He’d come knocking on your door earlier (even though he doesn’t need to knock, as you’ve told him countless times) and asked you to go for a walk with him. Easy, like breathing or blinking, you’d said yes.

It’s nice to have someone to do these things with, to be mundane and quiet without a trace of awkwardness. All of this comfort and you’ve yet to tell him how you feel, how in love you are.

Peter walks close enough to you that your arms brush with every step, jacket against jacket, warmth seeping into your skin every time. When he walks alone, he’s quicker, strides full, earbuds in. With you, he’s learned to match your pace, to slow himself to stay next to you.

“You cold?” Peter asks, even when he’s the one with his cheeks pink from the breeze.

“Mmm, just my hands.” You tilt your head up to the sky, then towards him. “It’s a nice day.”

And it is. Despite the chill, the sun’s shining, the trail you and Peter are taking tucked away enough from the city that it doesn’t feel like you’re in it. Rustling leaves in the wind, fallen ones littering your path, the smell of fall in the air. Your favorite boy as company.

“Yeah, it is,” he says, eyes catching yours. Then, he reaches for the hand closest to him, his fingers curling around yours, and tucks your joined hands into his coat pocket. “There.”

You feel warmer already, his palm against yours, but you try to play it off. “How’s your pocket any warmer than mine?”

“‘Cause your coat’s a joke. I’ve got fleece-lined pockets, ‘kay? Way warmer, honey.”

“Leave it to you to be a nerd, even about a jacket.”

He shrugs innocently, shoulder to a rosy cheek.

Peter takes any excuse he can to be close to you, to touch you, and he knows what that means. He knows he loves you, and he’s not really hiding it. It sinks into everything he does. Walking closer to the road, letting you have the last sip of your shared milkshakes, going to see the latest horror movie with you when he hates the genre.

As much as Peter wants to tell you, he also wants this to work, to fall into place the way he thinks things will. You’ve had your whole lives with each other so far, and there’s the rest of a lifetime to go.

“Did you just call me a nerd?”

“You heard me, Parker.”

“Well, in that case…”

One second you’d been walking beside him, the next, Peter’s pushed you over into a pile of leaves beside the trail. It’s probably the most gentle push ever, but it’s enough to make you trip over your feet.

“Peter,” you groan, dragging out his name. “At least help me up.”

You hold out your hand, laying on your back, leaves probably stuck to your clothes and in your hair. Peter takes it—of course, he does—and with a tug, you’ve got him laying next to you.

“I always fall for that one,” he says, his hand still in yours, shoulders shaking a little with his laughter.

You turn your head to look at him, and he does the same, your noses an inch apart, twin smiles on your faces.

A lifetime to go, Peter thinks.

[cheollipop]

Ok ok ok idk if you’re still taking stuff for your sleepover (which by the way congrats on 2k omg) BUT I had a thought —

Paramedic!San who helps calm down panicky reader when they have to be taken by ambulance to the hospital for something idk but the entire time San is just talking to them and like introducing himself and keeping the reader distracted from whatever medical stuff is going on so they can calm down or won’t pass out.

Just things like San calling the reader darling or something cute like that from the second he gets to their side and talking all sweet to them or saying stuff like ‘hey just keep your eyes on me’ or like ‘I’ve got you’ just AH

I feel like it has San behavior and I just like being taken care of lol

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

I remember reading your ask for the first time and full-on swooning over this omg, marian your brain....let me kiss it. this is seriously so him and writing it had me giggling and blushing like crazy bc??? personally, I'd be cracking a bone every other week if i were reader, just to have him hold my hand and calm me down. just me? okay T-T this was so fun to write, so thank you for sending this in!! and thank you for all the support, it means so much to me <33 happy reading~

pairing: paramedic!choi san x gender neutral!reader

w.c.: 0.7k

tags: fluff, reader is called pretty, tw: ankle injury, reader gets anxious about it

Echoing voices overlapped around you, and the pain in your ankle persisted as the paramedics rolled your stretcher into the back of the ambulance. You squinted under the white light, and nearly flinched away from the sudden chill on your skin as one of the responders pressed an icepack onto the swollen flesh, a hand around your calf stabilizing it to prevent further injury. Everything was happening too fast, your chest heaving with anxiety as the vehicle rolled over bumpy roads.

A dark head of hair popped into your vision, honeyed voice and delicate hands calming your racing heart, “take deep breaths for me, darling,” he spoke, a smile stretching his plush lips while he squeezed his hand around yours. “My name’s San, can you tell me yours?”

Despite its simplicity, it took you a few moments to process his question, smiley eyes distracting you from the beeping equipment surrounding you. “(Y/n),” you spoke, managing not to shiver while he maintained eye contact.

San had an intimidating face, and yet his aura emanated cordiality and benevolence, multiplying with every millimetre his lips stretched. “And what’s a pretty thing like you doing to hurt their ankle this bad, hm?”

The sudden teasing shift in his tone caught you by surprise, heat flushing your face as you stumbled over your words, attempting to explain the way you tripped over uneven ground while he kept you bound under his unyielding gaze.

“San, stop flirting with the patient,” a voice interrupted you mid-story, and San looked back at the man perched by your feet in annoyance.

“Can you ice her ankle in silence, Woo?” The faux smile he put on while talking to the two-tone haired man turned genuine when he moved his attention back to you, his fingers still wrapped around your palm and squeezing gently, easing the tension weighing down on your chest. “Ignore him, he’s just jealous I’m the one talking to you,” he winked.

So he was flirting.

Warmth tingled the skin at your ankle as soon as the paramedic pulled the ice pack away, examining the area and assessing the degree of swelling. The pain started again, and your eyes shifted down to peek at the bruising flesh, eyebrows furrowing as the anxiety threatened to close up your airways.

“Hey, hey, eyes up here, darling,” San’s hand left yours momentarily to close around your chin, guiding your focus back to him, to glimmering orbs and dimpled cheeks. “We’re gonna take care of you, alright? Woo just needs to give your skin a break from the ice,” he explained, moving his fingers back to yours.

You nodded, allowing the deep decibels to mute the pain panging in your joint, blinking slowly while his lips moved. You knew he was trying to distract you, to calm your quivering nerves, and it was working. Small talk worked. Questions about your hobbies, favourite shows—that you happened to share a few of—and his small rant about his cat, worked. And before you knew it, the ice pack was back on your skin, and your fingers had long since ceased their restless trembling underneath his own.

The ambulance slowed before stopping completely, the back door swinging open to reveal the emergency room entrance, and you couldn’t help the disappointment slumping your shoulders. San must have noticed, giving your hand a tight squeeze before moving away to help the other paramedics roll you out the back and onto the pavement. Once your stretcher fixed on secure ground, his fingers closed around your bicep to pull you up and off it, helping you into the wheelchair a nurse was perched behind.

He kneeled by your side, both his hands finding yours as he spoke, eyes wide and a gentle, amiable smile gracing his lips, “it was nice meeting you, (y/n).” He squeezed around your knuckles, his next words quieter, as though he wanted no one but you to hear them, “take care of yourself, you won’t need to sprain another ankle to see me again.”

Deep dimples sunk into the soft skin of his cheeks, a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips as he sent you off with a wink, a crumpled paper tucked into your palm and butterflies thrashing around in your lower belly.

[tokkishouse]

heyyy, okay so I read the cute lil Tighnari post and I died a lil (a lot actually, it was so cute pls my heart can't take it) If you have the time could you pls post more abt him 👁👁

I physically need more of that man, it doesn't really matter if it's sfw or nsfw or both. I just need more posts on this man or I will fall over and die 🛐

You 🤝 Me --> Needing more Tighnari content Say no more babes.

(Sfw) Tighnari as a Boyfriend

Characters: Tighnari x GN!Reader

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, subtle yandere themes

WC: 0.8k words

Fennec foxes mate for life. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Tighnari is loyal to a fault. Some of the villagers and even fellow rangers may try to woo him, but his eyes are focused on you and you alone

This also applies in the opposite direction-- if anyone flirts with you, he's by your side and growling at the offender, canines bared and ready to bite. Poor Al-Haitham got a bit of a shock when an off-handed, semi-flirtatious statement earned him a bone-chilling glare from Tighnari and the feeling of claws around his neck. Please give this man all of your attention

Gets very excited if you groom his ears and tails-- he likes to keep them nice and presentable for you and what better way to do that than to have you preen as you see fit?

Speaking of grooming-- if you do a particularly favorable job at it, he'll purr. Idc if foxes cant purr, Tighnari can. It's barely audible, trading sound for power as it's strong enough to be felt all over your body. Once he's purring you've won-- you could ask him anything and he'll probably say yes to it

Always brings you something from his expeditions-- from flowers to unique plants and strange creatures-- as long as he's vetted it to be safe, Tighnari will bring it home for you to keep. His tail curls up in anxiety as he watches you carefully inspect the gifts he brings home, but it always relaxes when he sees your delighted smile and you look at him with such adoration keep your eyes only on him

Speaking of his tail, it's the biggest indicator of his mood. If it's still, he's either in a neutral state or very focused. If it's swaying back and forth, he's calm and perhaps happy-- the faster it sways the happier he is. If it drags behind him on the floor like it has no life, he's upset. And if it curls up very tightly he may be a tad excited.

It also naturally seeks you out. If you stand next to him, it automatically wraps itself around your leg, waist, or just all over your body. You're familiar and safe, and it's a way of staying as close and connected to you as possible. It does make for some unfortunate moments when one of you decides to move abruptly, tugging the poor thing hard and lightly spraining it.

He will lecture you if you get in trouble or hurt yourself, but not out of anger-- only frustration and worry. He loves you very dearly and he doesn't want to think of a world without you. Tighnari's lectures are just another way of him expressing his concern for you and your safety. This also means that before you go anywhere, even if it's down the road to a local merchant, he'll make sure you have an emergency pack fully stocked. He can't have you tripping over a root and injuring yourself, and without anything to self-treat, now can he?

The cooler seasons are the best time to cuddle with him-- the fur on his ears and tail get slightly thicker to adjust to the falling temperatures, which makes sleeping curled up against the tail all the more comforting. Its extra warmth makes cool breezes and nightly chills a thing of the past.

While he does have a nickname or two for you, he doesn't call you by it often. Saying your name is loving as it is-- it's your name. It carries the weight of your history and how far you've come-- who you are. To him, that is the most precious thing and every time he says your name, all that information floods his brain as he conjures up the image of you, his lovely partner. During more sappy and romantic moments though, he will throw in a nickname for you here and there.

He may tease and be sarcastic with you, but if you express your discomfort, he'll stop immediately. However, if you can match his snarkiness and shoot back your own witty retorts, you'll have him completely ensnared. An off-handed comment turns into a full-blown snark fest with neither of you willing to give up until you leave the other completely stumped. It makes those around you either annoyed or amused. After all, anyone that can keep up with Tighnari's wit is sure to make a worthy opponent.

All in all, Tighnari is a very caring boyfriend with his own quirks. If you're lucky enough to be chosen by him, you'll have quite the satisfactory relationship-- one that only inspires joy and free love. Just be mindful not to set off one of his more fox-like instincts. It often can get...messy.

Requests (both sfw and nsfw) are open~! If you want a nsfw version of this lmk

[melanatedkink]

Pillow Biting

This is a compilation of MHA men getting around your relationship with your trusty pillow.

Warnings: pillow biting, rough language, rough sex, spanking, manhandling, voice kink if you squint, various pet names, anal

Pairings: Bakugo Katsuki x Y/N, Kirishima Eijirou x Y/N, Sero Hanta x Y/N, Todoroki Shoto x Y/N

Bakugo Katsuki

You could be a real pain in his ass sometimes. You had been teasing him all day with your texts. You even sent him a video right as he was heading out the door, saying you didn't want him to "forget what was waiting for him at home." And all of that had started after wrestling you off him when you found out how sweet his dreams were. He knew you would get pissy whenever he left without morning cuddles. But he had to oversee training for his interns. He had to set an example.

But you didn't give him an easy day. And after he got home, there you were, chilling on the couch all comfy and oblivious. He picked you up and hauled you over his shoulder, ignoring you half-assed "But I was watching thaaat". Your little games still didn't end as he kissed you down. With the way he switched from dry and wet kisses over your neck and collarbone, you couldn't possibly tone down your voice. But you didn't want to give the satisfaction, just yet. So you'd just hold back your voice behind an innocent little smile.

This little charade went on until he was ready to enter.

"You know, Y/N," he barked, his use of your name snapping your focus in two," you've been a slick bitch this whole time,"

He cocked his head to the side, baring his neck as his eyes narrowed," But I know you. I know every spot that makes you moan, so unless you been faking, tell me, why so quiet?"

You stared right back, lightly stating," You know why, Kat,"

He chuckled to himself. A cold chill raced through you. You hadn't heard that one, not unless he was about to fight. Oh. Oh no.

Without a word, Katsuki gripped you by the hips, flipped you over, and slammed you into the mattress. As you tried to prop yourself on your elbows to guage your surroundings, Bakugo's chest pushed into your shoulders, and the heel off his hand glued your face into the pillow.

"Since you wanna hold back, I better not hear a sound while I fuck you. Got it?"

You could only handle his initial thrusts. Once he sped up, your resolve crumbled, and moans flooded the crumpled pillow beneath you.

"That's what I fucking thought,"

Kirishima Eijirou

Tonight was a very special night. For your one year anniversary, Kirishima proposed a road trip out of country. It was your first big trip together and you were very nervous. But once you landed and headed toward the city, all your worries floated away. It was a busy day of shopping and sight-seeing, so by the time you had gotten back to the hotel room, and your bags were on the floor, you were expecting a cuddle bug of a boyfriend ready to watch foreign movies together. And, while his arms were wrapped around your waist, there was nothing innocent in the way he feebly asked, "Can I touch you?"

He'd just begun, but Kirishima was finding it hard to concentrate. Even though he made sure to spring for the presidential suite, meaning would be much harder for any neighbors to hear your little escapades, something about doing this in a hotel and not at home made you timid. Kirishima wanted to make sure you were comfortable, so, against his nature, he handed a pillow for you to bite as he laid you down. It couldn't have been more than three minutes, but he felt like it had been forever. And all because of that pillow. He just wanted to hear you, like he always did, but he couldn't risk you getting uncomfortable.

You seemed to notice his eyes darting around, and tapped his shoulder. He slowed to a stop.

"Are you okay?" he blurted in a flurry.

"I'm fine, are you? Do you wanna stop?" you asked," You seem distracted love,"

He let out a shuddered sigh, half chuckling at how cute you were, "I can't do this with that pillow in your mouth," he admitted.

"I know but I don't wanna get us kicked out on our first night,"

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours, and started back up by slowly grinding into you. He could do this. He could be respectful. He could be- wait were you saying his name?

He grunted, ripping the pillow from your arms. Your hands attempted to replace the pillow, but he was quick to kiss you. You whimpered when he pulled back for air.

"Babe, I can't, they'll hear us,"

"Shh, just keep kissing me,"

Y'all kept it together until Kirishima bit your neck, which spelled your end. And he would join you, unfortunately startling an unsuspecting passerby.

Sero Hanta

When were they going to leave? This was just his luck getting you hot and bothered at a house party you were invited to. It was a sort of initiation into the Pro Hero inner circle. All his friends had been invited along with him, but he was absolutely floored once you walked in the door. You'd hinted you'd be fashionably late. It wasn't until he had snuck you into one of the guest rooms that he found out you were up to nothing good. He lowered you underwear to find a lavender nub peeking from your ass. It just took one look, and he got the message.

Just as he was beginning to feel like the luckiest man alive, a thump sounded outside the door. He'd barely bottomed out when he went rigid. He internally groaned as he defiantly turned his attention to your position beneath him. You looked like you heard it, too, but you never told him to stop. So Sero would manage shallow thrusts as he listened out for any cock blockers. But the sounds of your whines were making his eyes cross and his hips stutter. He caught a glimpse of you hiding your face in the pillow. Somehow you'd twisted your body away from him. And that just wasn't going to do. He was finally getting to have his lover, and he was going to get all of you.

Without breaking pace, Sero pried your arms from the pillow and wrapped them around his back.

"Scream for me, make me your pillow, baby. That's right, bite me,"

Turns out Denki was right, Sero had left with you.

Todoroki Shoto

You two didn't even make it to the bedroom. If you hadn't put your foot down about a "at least a shower, baby" then Shoto would've had you on his lap as soon as you got home. It was obvious he was feeling needy. You were fine with that, until you found yourself facing the reflection in the TV, holding to Shoto's thighs like a lifeline. You thanked God Shoto was too distracted with sex than undressing you properly, as you were afforded the sleep shirt that was currently keeping your squeals somewhat concealed.

Sadly, that didn't matter. Once Shoto had you throwing it back, it was over for him. His whimpers and incessant whines harmonized with yours beautifully. His arms snaked around your waist in an effort to keep you moving when your hips started to falter. The sound of his hips and his moans had your jaw dropping. Your shirt tail fell just as you reached your end. Shoto managed to slow down at the sound of you straight up mewling moaning as you finished beautifully on his thighs and couch.

He pressed his lips into your neck as you tried to catch your breath.

"Didn't know you could get so loud," He guided your jaw until you were looking him in the eyes,"Do it again, darling,"

[pluto-supremacy]

Can I add to the Hobie dating an autistic person ideas based on my experiences? I'm autistic, my girlfriend isn't but neither of us would be shocked if she was.

Hobie understands that he has to be ultra specific when asking or explaining something to you. He can't be vague about it and say something will take a while, he knows you prefer a specific time.

He finds your stimming cute as fuck, but he's learned quickly to step out the way when you do stim lest he wants to be in the line of fire and accidentally get hit.

Same applies with hands. You gesture a lot with your hands and it gets more animated and crazy when you're excited and you wave then about. The cutest shit ever, not so much when you're eating or prepping food and you have a knife in your hand. A gentle reminder that its okay to stim, but maybe not with a knife or something stabby or fragile in your hand is all that's needed.

Yes, you and Hobie are on the same page 99 percent of the time, but occasionally there'll be miscommunication and what he says and means will be different to what you thought it meant. This is based on me and my girlfriend a few weeks ago. I suggested we "chill out" in her room, hoping she gets the hint. We go to her room and literally chill out whilst watching Bluey. Many laughs and kisses after, it was adorable

Hobie Brown Drabble: cooking rambles with a gn!autistic!reader

➼ I absolutely love these additions to the headcanons! I also talk a lot with my hands and at work and when I’m cooking that includes gesturing with very sharp knives, so- yeah I’m forcing that on our beloved gn!reader. Enjoy this little Drabble based on some of your lovely additions!

➼ I swear I did try my best on the accent-

➼ Sorry that this took a bit longer than I promised! Work has been kicking my ass

➼ No beta we die like uncle Aaron

➼ No warnings! Just fluff here

GIF doesn't belong to me! All credits to the original owner

You treasured nights like these, nights when Hobie wasn’t needed back at Spider HQ. Or just decided not to go. Either way, you enjoyed just being able to lounge around in your shared flat together, bitch about coworkers, turn on a cheesy movie, or your favorite: cook together. Nothing beat a homemade meal in Hobie’s opinion, he just…wasn’t the best at cooking. Wasn’t terrible either, more middle of the road, so he usually stuck to stirring and prepping the vegetables.

Tonight’s menu was grilled cheeses and tomato soup, some nice comfort food. Hobie was buttering up the pan for the sandwiches while you were chopping up some onions, going on about your day. “So then I’m at the counter just trying to ring up her order. Something complicated because of course she just couldn’t have the drinks how they come, each has at least three modifications” you rambled on. You always talked with your hands, gesturing wildly that you sometimes hit people. This was no different.

Apart from the fact that this time you had a knife in your hands.

“Like she wanted no whip on this one, double whip on that one, sprinkles on the other other one” you listed off, tapping the tip of the blade against your fingers without a second thought. Hobie was of course listening, but he had his back turned. At least it was until his Spidey-sense went off. But what could be causing danger-?

Cue you still gesturing with the knife, none the wiser that Hobie, who was once by the stove, had webbed up onto the ceiling and was standing there like a bat. Your eyes had been trained down as you went on. “I was losing my mind! I wanted to scream!” You raised your hands in frustration, and when you lowered them, the knife was gone and in its place? A wooden spoon. “What-?”

“Sorry luv, but I can’t ‘ave you swingin’ that ‘round. Can’t ‘ford a trip to the hospi’al” Hobie said, still hanging upside down on the ceiling but now with your stolen knife in hand. “I fancy ya a bi’ too much to let you ‘urt yourself.”

You could only laugh, setting the spoon down as Hobie finally jumped off of the ceiling, spinning around to land on his feet. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it” you replied, holding your hand out to get the knife back. He shot you a mock skeptical look before handing it back over, now sitting on the counter. “‘S alright swee’heart. Now watch where you’re cu’ing. I wan’ you ta keep all your fingers” he hummed out lowly, watching you get back to work. He always loved watching you talk with your hands and when you would stim, sometimes he just needed to step in to keep everyone safe. Anything for his luv.

[imaginesforeveryone]

The Big Fight (Part 3)

Pairing: Bonnie Gold x Y/N Summary: It was the day after your found out your brother had been killed, and Bonnie tried to make you feel better in a special way.

You woke up about 4 hours later and the sun had set already. Feeling you head fall slowly up and down rest on Bonnie's naked chest. You smiled thinking back before you fell asleep what had occurred. Sitting up slowly trying to not wake Bonnie. You grabbed a extra blanket and wrapping it around yourself so you didn't have to make to much noise trying to get your clothes back on. Stepping out of the carriage, the fire still flickering in the dark night. You sat down on one of the logs and just took in the nature that you missed so much being out in, the slight breeze that rolled through every once in awhile chilling you a bit. You heard creaking behind you causing you to shoot around to inspect. Relaxing your tense body after seeing it was Bonnie in only his pants.

"Why didn't you wake me?" He asked with sleep in his voice still.

"You just looked too cute to wake." You said with a giggle and turning back to look out over the river. He kissed you naked shoulder that the blanket didn't cover and sat beside you.

"How are you feeling?" He asked putting his arm around you.

"I'm okay. Little better because of you." You said with a wink and smile.

"Well, I'm happy I could help a bit." He said pulling you closer into him and kissing your temple. You two sat insolence for awhile just relaxing.

"Well, we should probably get going back. Get you back to your family." Bonnie said sitting straight up.

"Nooooo." You whined out with a pouting face.

"I know, I know. It's shit. I'll tell you what when we get closer we stop one more place and watch the sunrise, and then we go back? "He told you.

"Better than nothing." You said hoping up and holding you hand out for Bonnie to grab.

"Lets go get you dressed." He said with a smile and dragging you into the back of the carriage to your clothes.

"But you leave your shirt off." You demanded getting into the carriage and dropping the blanket. He just stared at you, looking you up and down.

"Yes ma'am." He said practically drooling. You grabbed you pants and his shirt putting them on and slipping your shoes back on. He held his hand out to help you down safely. Closing the gate to the back of the carriage and walking around to open your door for you. You climbed in and got comfortable for the ride. Slowly thoughts of Arthur taking you on road trips with him as a young girl. He was your older brother, but also a father figure to you. You never knew your father, he was gone before you turned 6 months old. Even Finn, only being a year older than you, you always looked up to him.

"hey you okay?" Bonnie asked snapping you out of your thoughts and coming to realization you guys were already driving.

"Yeah. Just thinking about Arthur." You said looking over at him. A saddened smile across his face as he motioned for you to get closer to him. You slid across the bench seat and curled into his side.

"I know it's hard right now. He lives through the rest of you guys. He lives in your hearts, forever." Bonnie spoke softly and he rubbed circles on your back. The rest of the ride was in comfortable silence. You watched out the window at the big fields that you passed by. You noticed you were getting closer to town. It was begging to get a little bright out, but no sun yet. Bonnie, slowing down and pulling down. road that went through a field, and into the forest behind it. Once the car stopped you got out and went around the back of it the edge of the river in perfect time to see the sun start to peak.

"So, what do you want to do when we get back?" Bonnie asked standing next to you.

"Well, we have to handle the Changretta's now. I'm going to slice the throats of all of them for what they did to my brother. They will not live to see Christmas with their children, and wives." You said starting to get more angry than sad now. You heard a car driving down the path you and Bonnie just came down. You grabbed your gun out of your holster and flattened yourself on the side of the carriage. You peaked your head and saw it was Finn's car. You put you gun back and walked out, Bonnie followed behind and stopped as the car stopped.

"Y/N. We have to go." Finn said getting out of the car.

"What happened Finn?" You asked him.

"Lucca and his men are coming. Tommy, and Polly are at the Gin distillery right now getting ready for him to get there. They want you there." He said frantically.

"Okay. Bonnie, I'm sorry. Thank you, but I have to go." You said turning to him.

"That's okay. I'll meet you guys there. Be safe." He said pulling you into a hug and kissing you. You turned away and ran to the car and Finn got in. Turning around and taking it off. You stopped at home to change, and then quickly got to the distillery. Walking in, Tommy, and Polly stood beside each other. You walked over with Finn, and stood beside them two.

"Just stay quiet. Let me do the talking." Tommy said knowing the temper you had. You just scoffed and lite a cigarette. Hearing footsteps slowly walking around the corner and seeing Lucca, and his men with guns in hand. You blood instantly starting to sizzle through your veins wanting to rip his head off right then and there. But as much as you dint want to admit it, Tommy was right. You have to stay calm and watch how this plays out.

Lucca spoke but in Italian, not understanding what he was saying, you just looked.

"All thats left of the Peaky fucking Blinders." He spoke in English to you and your family now. You took a drag of your cigarette trying not to speak. Lucca walked up to come face to face with Tommy. Lucca snood his fingers, and one of his men walking with a brief case and taking out a folder and putting it on the table. Lucca walking back around table.

"I've had my lawyer draw up these papers. Cover every enterprise in your possession. Bars, restraints, warehouses. Every fucking thing that you've taken all these years to gather together. You will sign them all over." He said beginning to walk.

"To my family." He finished his sentence. You scoffed at his comment finishing off your cigarette. Tommy not saying a word, just staring Lucca in his eyes.

"Or you're gonna die." Lucca said. You through your cigarette at the ground and stood straight up. Polly giving you a look to stop and step back. Tommy still just looked at Lucca, without a word.

"I would've buried you all, but my mother, she knows you. She said, it'll be worse for you, if I let you live and take away everything you have." Lucca spoke making you more and more mad. Lucca grabbed Tommy jacket, and pulling it to look on the inside. Tommy put his hands out for easier access.

"Search em." Lucca said as he grabbed the gun from Tommy holster. One of his man coming to grab the gun from Lucca. Lucca now standing in front of Polly

"Especially don't trust this bitch." He said looking down at her and tearing open her blouse making the buttons fly off. Looking in her shirt for a gun. You spit at his shoe, making him turn to you.

"And this little bitch. She's a feisty one. Definitely should have killed her, along with John." Lucca said opening your jacket to grab you gun. You kept your composure as he did so. His men now checking all of you over as Lucca walk around the table.

"So." Lucca said holding a pen up in front of Tommy.

"Sign. Every fucking one of them." He said. You smiled a bit as Tommy didn't move as soon as he said that.

"You can sign them on your knees." He said as he pushed the papers off of the table. Tommy still not moving. That, set Lucca off, he pulled the table up and flipped it over.

"Get on your fucking knees, and sign!" Lucca said with a deep, angry tone. You couldn't hold back the smile that spread across your face.

"A friend of mine once said." Tommy said getting down on his knees.

"Big, fucks small." He finished his sentence.

"So I had to find someone bigger than you. Now, you may know there are two families in Brooklyn, who want to take over your monopoly on the import of liquor into New York." Tommy spoke up to Lucca now, knowing what he was talking about now.

"But if they move against you in New York, they'll start a war between the families." You spoke for the first time to Lucca.

"But if you were to die in a vendetta with some fucking bookmaker in Birmingham, they could take over your business without a war." Tommy said to him, seeing physically Lucca's face drop.

"We also contacted a businessman in Chicago. He's also interested in moving into the liquor business in New York. " You spoke more facts to Lucca.

"His name is Alphonse Capone." Tommy said up Lucca, instantly making him angry.

"You been talking to that fat fuck?" He asked.

"You see, all the blood relatives you brought with you from New York, they're all dead, Mr. Changretta." Tommy continued.

"And these men here, they work for money, for the highest bidder." Tommy said motioning to the men standing behind Lucca.

"They now have new orders." Tommy told him and Lucca catching on pretty quickly.

"Is that right?" He asked turning to the men behind him.

"Is that right?" He repeated towards them.

"And you, Matteo?" Lucca asked looking at his most trusted since he's been in England. Matteo not making eye contact with Lucca, looking at the floor.

"Hey. Very fucking." Lucca said turning to you and your family. But, reached into his coat pocket and grabbing out his gun Thomas being faster grabbed a crowbar from the ground and smacking Luccas arm so the gun flew out of his hand. Tommy grabbing ahold on Lucca's jacket, but Lucca pushing him back against the piping. Tommy giving Lucca a good head butt making him fall back and giving him a swift punch to the face. But Lucca found the crowbar and smacked Tommy in the stomach with it. Blocking the next swing, but Lucca getting a few good ones in. Tommy got ahold of Lucca, pushing him to the table where there were glass bottles and smashed his face into it. You looked over to the door that slowly opened. The wall blocking your view but quickly the person came in view. It was Arthur. Your eyes widened as you saw him. Looking over at Finn, who as just as surprised as you were. Tears began to form in your eyes as you just stood and watched. Tommy looking up at Arthur and pulled Lucca up making him stand. Polly, didn't look surprised. Arthur raised his hand that had a gun in it to point at Lucca. Tommy stood out of the way and Arthur took his shot at Lucca, right between the eyes.

"Tell your people in Chicago. That Michael Gray will sign the import license to New York. Three hundred barrels of English dry gin a month." Tommy spoke breaking you out of your trance state.

"Leave." Arthur spoke for the first time since walking in. The men filling out of the room.

"Tell your boss what you saw here to today. And tell him...." Arthur said trailing off.

"You don't fuck with the Peaky Blinders." Arthur said looking over at you and Finn now. You ran over to him and jumped into his arms.

"You aren't dead. You aren't fucking dead." You said softly into his neck.

"I'm not baby sister. I'm here." He said.

"You asshole! The both of you!" You said smacking him in the arms and looking at Tommy.

"Listen, We needed to use Arthurs death to win this war. Everyone couldn't know he was actually alive and possibly ruin it." Tommy said.

"Whatever." You said turning back to Arthur and hugging him.

Everyone was back at Tommy's house now celebrating that Arthur was still alive. Bonnie was back by your side. Now you were way more happy then you were before. Having your brother back and find new love with Bonnie.