#plus my man was literally shot through the chest

[alchemicon]

Am i the only one that feels weird when people describe dazai as a womanizer, say he fucked the nurse etc? Like to me he is so gay coded that i just can't take his whole flirting with women thing seriously. It feels part of his clown persona and not a sincere representation of his character at all. I know that irl dazai was a womanizer, but bsd takes inspiration from the lives of the authors and twists the events to craft entirely new characters (eg dazai was the one who admired akutagawa irl not the other way around). And one important thing is how none of his relationships with women have any substance. He's shown to respect them sure, but emotionally his relations to them are completely empty. He admires their beauty, but it is with men that he always has deeper emotional connections with (his life was literally changed by chuuya and oda, because of his relationship with them) I think people who genuinely consider him a womanizer, fall for his act, his clown mask if you will.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Congrats on 3K followers, which you so deserve! My request is because The Hold Steady's song "Stuck Between Stations" is stuck in my head and the lyric is, shockingly, "Tonight it's like he's stuck between stations". Have a wonderful writing weekend!

Thank you so much! I decided to take this super literally and do something a little silly. Hope you enjoy!

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

The train was late, but what else is new?

Eddie watched the board as the estimated arrival time kept going up. He’d have to text Elliot to let him know he’d be late for their appointment.

At least Elliot was a regular client of his and would understand.

Eventually, only 18 minutes late, the train arrived.

Eddie shoved through the crowd to get on, not even caring if he had to stand sandwiched between sweaty people as long as he got to his shop.

By some miracle, he managed to get the only empty seat left at the back of the car.

And it was next to possibly the hottest guy he’d ever seen.

He was wearing tight jeans and a polo, glasses, a nose ring, and his hair was perfectly mussed. Eddie was such a sucker for the preppy hipster look. It never turned out well for him, but dammit if he didn’t try anyway.

“Mind if I sit?” Eddie asked the guy.

“Nope,” he replied, not even looking up from his phone.

He was furiously typing something, and Eddie was doing his best to not read anything.

But it sure was difficult and Eddie had pretty good eyesight and also never learned manners.

It’s not even that she left me for someone else. She tried to say that my coming out as bi ruined our relationship. Our relationship was ruined way before that! And she knew saying that would make me feel like shit so-

“Am I entertaining you?” The guy said from next to him.

Eddie startled and looked up, right into the warmest brown eyes he’d ever looked into.

“Sorry. It kinda seemed like you were working on a novel. I’m an avid reader.”

The man snorted and put his phone face down on his leg. “I’m Steve. You should at least know my name if you’re gonna know my business.”

“Eddie. I am sorry. Even more sorry your ex was clearly a piece of shit,” Eddie nudged his shoulder with his own.

The train started moving and Eddie glanced up at crowd of people in the car.

“Yeah, well. It was bound to happen. I wanted to settle down, she wanted to travel and focus on her career. Would’ve never worked,” Steve sighed. “Onto the next!”

Eddie snorted. “How long were you together?”

“Three years.”

“Ouch.”

“It was coming for a while,” Steve shrugged. “I feel like I mourned the relationship while I was still in it. Plus, she moved in with her new boyfriend, so it’s only a matter of time before I move in with mine.”

Eddie felt a weird pain in his chest. “Oh, you’ve got a boyfriend?”

Steve smirked at him. “Not yet.”

The train slowed and then came to a stop. The usual announcement for the next station didn’t start. Instead, an announcement let them know they were experiencing a short delay.

Eddie groaned and let his head hit the window next to him.

“I’m sure my shoulder is more comfortable than the window.”

Eddie’s head shot up at Steve’s suggestion.

Steve was blushing, looking down at his phone like he hadn’t even spoken. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe Eddie imagined it.

“If you want. The last short delay took 25 minutes,” Steve continued, finally looking over at Eddie with a small smile.

“I have to let my client know I’m gonna be even later,” Eddie pulled his phone from his pocket to send another text. It may not go through underground, but at least he could say he tried.

“Client? Are you a therapist?”

“Close. Tattoo artist,” Eddie finished up the text and put his phone back in his pocket.

“Oh, my friend Will is a tattoo artist! He keeps telling me to get something, but I’m not the biggest fan of needles.” Steve looked apologetic. “I’m worried I’d pass out.”

Eddie was already planning exactly what he’d tattoo on Steve’s body.

“You’d be surprised how many people I tattoo who don’t like needles. Is it a pain thing or just the needles in general?”

“Both? I guess?” Steve was slowly leaning closer to Eddie’s side.

“Well, the pain is easy. I have a numbing cream I recommend to first timers or people getting something done in an especially sensitive spot that works great.” Eddie let his arm rest across the back of the seat, skin brushing against Steve’s back. “The other part is a little harder, but usually I go the old school distractions method.”

“Like a toddler with a shot?” Steve laughed.

“Exactly! I play music they like or put on a show they wanna watch. Sometimes we just talk the whole time. Sometimes they prefer to just close their eyes and pretend they’re somewhere else. Everyone’s different.”

Eddie watched Steve soak in that information. He technically didn’t take walk-ins anymore except for special events, but he’d be willing to have Steve in his chair right after Elliot’s appointment. He’d stay late. He’d do it for free if it meant having his hands on Steve’s skin.

“Have you ever had someone leave before it’s done?”

“Twice,” Eddie nodded. “Once was a drunk guy who insisted he was sober enough to do the tattoo and halfway through, he threw up and then just walked out. Don’t know if he ever bothered to get it done. The other was a woman who had chosen her ribs as her first tattoo ever. Don’t ever do that, by the way. Not a great start. She quit on the second word of the lyrics she was getting.”

Steve snorted. “What were the lyrics?”

“I hate to say it, but I don’t remember. I’m sure she regrets even trying all the time.”

Steve laughed again and leaned his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie let his arm wrap around Steve’s shoulder and squeeze.

“So? You gonna get one? Did I convince you?” Eddie said quietly. He didn’t want to ruin this moment between them, stuck between stations for the foreseeable future.

“Hm. I’ll consider it. Do you have room on your books for me?” Steve turned his face into Eddie’s shirt.

“I’m sure I can make room for you, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart already? What a sweet talker you are,” Steve mumbled against his shoulder.

“I read people pretty well and you are a sweetheart. No doubt about it.”

Steve groaned. “Are you always like this?”

“Not at all.”

Something in Eddie’s voice must have sounded genuine. Steve looked up at him, his face close enough to Eddie’s to feel his breath.

“This is kind of crazy.”

“What is?”

“This. I feel safe here with you. I’m ready to let you give me a tattoo even though I hate needles.”

Eddie’s fingers traced patterns along his upper arm, mindlessly planning out a tattoo already.

“Could give you one right here,” Eddie tapped his bicep. “Something small, dainty linework, a sunflower maybe.”

“A sunflower? Isn’t that kinda feminine?” Steve’s fingers were tracing a pattern on Eddie’s thigh. “Not that I’m against it because of that, it just doesn’t seem to fit me.”

And maybe yeah, if Eddie thought about it, he could see how Steve’s body type was thicker, muscular, closer to jock than city hipster living off of coffee and cigarettes. Flowers might not be the first thing someone would think of when looking at Steve.

But when talking to him, when seeing how soft he got with an arm around him, how he turned into the affection, it was pretty obvious he should be covered in delicate work.

He deserves delicate things, Eddie could already tell.

He wanted to give him that.

He wanted to give him anything.

“Someone as radiant as you needs something that represents that. Anytime you’re ready,” Eddie couldn’t help the kiss he pressed to the top of Steve’s head.

The short delay turned into a long delay, but Steve and Eddie talked the entire time. When they finally got moving, Steve stayed on even though the next station was his stop.

“Think I’d like this tattoo artist to take my tattoo virginity,” Steve smirked at him as the train started moving again.

“As long as you’re okay sitting through my appointment first. Might get boring.”

“Doubt being near you could ever be boring.”

Getting stuck on the train with Steve turned into barely leaving his side for weeks, months, years.

Nothing felt as natural as being with his sunflower.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

15 and 20 with Eddie Brock/Venom please!

.⋆｡At Last｡⋆.

Eddie Brock/Venom x plus size reader

A quiet weekend in the mountains with your boyfriends is just what you all needed (and totally wasn’t because you’re on the run from the law)

Warnings: reader is a bit of a brat, mentions of getting shot at and abusive parents, past murder, fluff, implied smut

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Celebration

Peace to Eddie Brock seemed to be an entirely foreign concept. His whole life was one shit storm after another, there had never been a moment of calm between his abusive father, his struggles in school, the endless fight between him and his bosses, the breakup with Annie, and then discovering Venom. He supposed he chased the chaos, needing that dose of adrenaline and fear in his blood to remind him that he was still alive and fighting.

But the second that you came crashing into his life (quite literally too, you hit Venom with your car), all he had known was that he could finally breathe. You pulled him from the fire countless times and this weekend was yet another one of those times.

Eddie had begun to get lazy in controlling Venom, letting him do what he pleased during nights when Eddie simply couldn’t be bothered to even wake up to go on patrol with him. And as a result of that, Venom accidentally ate the head of the leader of the most powerful gang in San Francisco so the three of you had to lay low for a while. Using the last of your savings, you bought a shitty cabin in the Rocky Mountains and settled there with your boys.

The whole day had been spent in silence but it was far from uncomfortable, for you at least. Venom and Eddie currently weren’t talking to each other though both seemed adamant that they stay close to you as the sun began to set over the mountains and the chill started to creep in through the poor insulation. 

Eddie’s head rested on your chest, his thick arms wrapped around your waist as Venom had nuzzled into your neck, purring happily every time you gave him a small peck between his huge milky eyes. Your nails trailed up and down Eddie’s bare back, tracing every imperfection on his skin, slowly easing the stress from his body.

All he could hear was the steady beat of your heart beneath his ear. Eddie smiled softly, rubbing the tip of his nose between your breasts. You giggled at the feeling and dug your nails into the small pudge of fat at his hips. “What’s got you so affectionate, Brock?”

“Jus happy.” He muttered, squeezing your waist even tighter than before. Venom nodded against your skin in agreement.

He is right nibble, we are very happy. 

“So you guys are finally done with the silent treatment to each other?” 

“No.” No. You raised an eyebrow at your partners to which Venom chose to continue speaking. We just love you, that is all we agree on. You rolled your eyes at them.

“Are you sure you’re both not just sucking up to me because you think I’m mad about having to quit my job and go on the lam?” Venom growled at that, making the entire bed rumble with the force of it as Eddie felt his blood pressure start to rise. Yet, no part of him felt that usual tensing of his muscles or pounding in his ears that usually came with anger, just a buzzing in his veins that only appeared in your presence. 

You said you weren’t mad. Venom pouted, making you coo at him.

“Aww baby, I’m not, I promise. I just like teasing you both.” The chill in the room didn’t stop Eddie from sitting up between your plump legs, the thick duvet that had been covering you both falling away. Your eyes, though they still sparkled with mischief, grew darker as you looked at the half naked man currently towering over you. He smirked when your gaze dropped to the old sweatpants that sat low on his hips.

Venom slid back into Eddie but you knew he was lurking below the surface, waiting to strike. “Do you now?” You captured your bottom lip between your teeth, barely managing to suppress a whine at the deep timbre of his voice.

“Well, I think it’s only fair. We’re in the middle of nowhere and you didn’t let me keep my phone. I have to entertain myself somehow.” Eddie’s muscles rippled as he leaned forwards, pushing your soft body into the mattress, keeping you pinned exactly where he wanted to.

We can smell her. Venom purred in Eddie’s mind. “Yeah buddy we can.” He agreed, taking in a deep breath and letting the thick scent of your arousal wash over them. 

“The last time you two had a secret conversation in front of me, it led to me getting shot at.” You snapped though there was no bite in your tone. Eddie groaned under his breath and rested more of his weight onto you.

He gripped one of your thighs tight enough to bruise as he brushed his lips against the shell of your ear. “Oh you’re getting pregnant tonight. Fucking brat.” You shuddered beneath him.

“You’re all talk.” Venom snarled and a black tendril shot out from Eddie’s side, wrapping tightly around your wrists, pinning them to the bed above you. 

“Try us.” Their voices moulded together and you smirked. 

At last, Eddie Brock had his peace.

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv

Marvel

@lokiandbuckysdoll @andreasworlsboring101 @pretty-npeach @cakesandtom @elizabethmidnight2017 @beautyb1ade @bitchy-bi-trash @mewlingoizys @queer_poncho @everything-is-awesomesauce @hc-geralt-23 @wisteriia222 @certifiedhunter @annhells

Eddie Brock

@getoutofthere

[adaptacy]

If you want requests for Johnny could you maybe do something with him x connie? Maybe he spares her and they like run away togetjer IDK literally anything with them pls

omg okay so i know a lot of people ship them and i love both of them but i have never really given connie the time of day so i am SO sorry if she is out of character but i will try my best!! i hope you enjoy <3

There was a silenced yelp from the orange-haired girl as a palm clasped over her mouth and she was tugged backwards, her back hitting someone's chest. The arm holding her was alarmingly large, and she tried to pry herself free, but she was shushed.

"Quit wigglin'. I ain't gonna hurt'ya, damn it," the attacker grumbled, pressing his palm harder against her face. Yeah right. She didn't believe a single word of that.

She squirmed more, and her head was tilted backwards, where she found one of the family members looking down at her, his eyes narrowed sternly as he shook his head.

"Quiet down if you wanna live. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't still be breathin'. Just hold on," he directed, and Connie frowned, but she did as he asked. He had a good point; he hadn't had any issue slicing the throats of Leland or Ana, and she supposed he would've done the same with her if he wanted her dead.

Plus, she didn't have much of a choice. His arm was wrapped around her torso, preventing her from doing anything more than squirming. Connie's breath hitched as he pulled her deeper into the shed, her eyes widening as she saw the shadow of another family member through the holes in the wood.

"C'mon pretty darlin'! Come on out for us!" A female giggled, calling out for the last remaining victim. Connie looked up at the dark-haired man holding her, and he looked back down at her, shaking his head again. Well, right now it seemed like her two choices were to either die by the hands of this guy, or die by the hands of the slightly more psychotic woman outside.

She chose this guy.

And yet, when the footsteps receded and she braced herself for impact- A blunt force to her head, a stab in her gut, a knife to her throat... she felt his hands release her, and she stumbled forward, turning back to look at him.

"What the hell?" She whispered, looking the man up and down.

"I ain't lettin' 'em kill you. Made the mistake once, I ain't makin' it again. Follow me, an' be silent. 'Less you want me to kill you." He looked her up and down, and she shook her head. "Didn't think so. Be silent now."

Connie responded with nothing more than a nod, deciding her best shot was to follow now, and ask questions later.

~

"I still don't understand," she sighed, sitting criss-cross on a neatly arranged motel bed.

"Shouldn't you just be glad yer still kickin'?" Johnny glanced behind him at the redhead before he returned his attention to the window he was spying out of.

"I don't think they're coming," Connie murmured, picking at her fingernails.

"You don't know that."

"It's been two hours..."

"Listen here, missy." Johnny turned around with a scowl, and Connie stared him down, blinking. He wanted to get onto her, but all he could manage was a question that had been brewing in his mind. "How the hell'd you 'n your friends find us, anyways?"

"We found her car. Your house was the closest sign of life, so Leland and Ana went out one night and saw you taking a girl back. When they didn't see her leave the next day, we assumed it was you guys who took Maria," Connie explained. While she was obviously nervous being in the same room as a murderer who had killed her friends the very same day, what choice did she have but to engage with him?

Connie quite liked living, having a beating heart, and breathing. She chose that over angering this guy any day. "You damn idiots didn't have a clue what you were gettin' into, huh?"

Connie shrugged, and shook her head. "I guess not," she sighed, scooting backwards on the bed and bringing her knees to her chest. "It was so stupid of us. We didn't know what to do. We just wanted to save Maria."

"Guess you learned your lesson," Johnny mumbled, and Connie frowned. Then she scoffed, turning to look at Johnny.

"Seriously? Don't you have any remorse?" She raised her voice, losing sight of her goal to stay alive. Between his cocky attitude and her friends being dead, she was on her last straw. "You killed them. All of them. They were innocent!"

"I did what I had to," Johnny huffed, looking almost disgusted with Connie. "You're lucky I let you go."

"You didn't let me go. You're practically holding me hostage. What the hell do you want with me, anyways?" Connie growled.

"Well, I can't let you go. You'll run 'n tattle to the cops."

"Yeah, obviously. You're a murderer." Connie took in a deep breath and set her chin between her knees. "You should've killed me. Now I'm just gonna be stuck in purgatory with a cannibal."

"Listen, Darlin'-"

"Ew, don't call me that," Connie snapped.

"I am keepin' you safe, in case you didn't notice. I could'a killed ya."

"So why didn't you? Why did I have to be the one you choose to keep around as a pet?"

Johnny sighed, pressing a palm to his face. He tapped his foot, growing impatient with the bratty girl. She had a point, and a reason to be angry, but it was still hell to deal with. It wasn't like he could just tell her that he liked her spirit, that he thought she was cute, that he appreciated her ferocity-- No, this was not the right circumstance for trying to flirt with a girl. Maybe don't kill her friends next time, jackass. "I'm tired'a being the bad guy. Wanted to help someone for once," he lied, not even sounding that sure of himself.

"You didn't save the others. You had a chance to be the good guy. You really fucked that one up," Connie grumbled. "How long do you plan on holding me hostage?"

"I'm not holdin' you hostage."

"So I can leave?"

"No."

"Then I'm a hostage," Connie corrected.

"Quit sayin' that, dammit."

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you want me on my knees thanking you for what a hero you've been to me? What's your name again? Johnny?" Connie frowned, and then cleared her throat. "Oh, thank you, Johnny! Thank you for killing my friends, kidnapping me, and being a sick bastard of a cannibal. You really are my savior."

Johnny sighed, rolling his eyes. She was not the company he was expecting. Not the company he was hoping for. He had gotten himself into this situation, and yet he couldn't bring himself to pity the girl. Not with this attitude of hers. "You make a habit of talkin' back?"

"Only to serial killers."

"Fine. I wanted to save you. You ain't deservin' of the shit that yer friends went through."

"Neither were they!" Connie yelled, her voice cracking. "God damn it," she whined, pulling her knees closer to her chest as she gave away her weakness. Finally, Johnny felt a slight twinge of regret, of sympathy for the girl.

"I'm sorry," Johnny mumbled, stepping towards the girl.

"Saying sorry doesn't bring them back," she whispered, finally breaking as she let out a tense exhale, silently crying into her knees.

"I know. I-" Johnny paused. He had no clue how to reassure or comfort people. He knew how to make them cry, not how to make them stop. He awkwardly shuffled over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. "I could only save one of ya. They would'a got the rest, and you too, if I tried savin' all of 'em."

Connie didn't respond, she just cried, and Johnny rolled his eyes, more so at the frustration of his own incompetence than at the fact that she was crying.

Johnny shuffled closer to her, looking her balled-up frame up and down, trying to figure out what to do. After an awkward moment of silence, he shuffled even closer.

Connie felt arms around her, and she whimpered, giving in to her needs. She leaned against his chest, crying into him, and he, albeit stiffly, hugged her as she did so. "I'm real sorry, darlin'."

Connie still didn't offer any form of a verbal reply, but she did wrap her arms around his stomach as she cried, and Johnny placed his chin on her head. He didn't know what to do, he was simply following what felt natural. And it seemed to be working.

How he was going to make this up to her, he didn't have the slightest clue. But he wanted to try. He really wanted to try.

[theweirdoinurhouse]

A lousy new roommate (Part 3 of my "Lowsy" series"

Part 1:

Part 2:

(Reader is not from Miles' Universe, story takes place in a different one. Thought I should mention that-)

The Spot as been regularly visiting your apartment for a month now. It's been quite an experience, hanging out with him. But it wasn't as bad as you thought. One day, he told you he didn't have any place to stay. So you offered him to stay at your place from now on. What could possibly go wrong?

Spider-man crashing into your living room wall is what could go wrong.

Spot told you that morning that he was just going out for a walk. Nothing too bad. You decided you would relax on your couch and watch some tv to pass the time.

That was until Spot randomly teleported into your living room via his portal-holes, panting and clearly out of breath. You stood up from the couch quickly, thoughts racing on why he was in such a state.

Before you could ask him though, the wall with your balcony crumbled as someone burst through it. You stepped back as to not get hit by any flying debris, but Spot was not so fortunate.

You realized the figure that just broke your wall was Spider-man when Spot yelled "Spider-man! Oh my gosh hi! Funny to see you here!"

Spot was dodging Spider-man's punches, portaling his fists somewhere else occasionally. You just stood behind your couch, getting some entertainment from this. You probably wouldn't last five minutes going against Spider-man anyways.

"Give it up Spot! I'm taking you to Miguel whether you like it or not!" Spider-man yelled, trying to throw another fist at Spot, only for it to disappear into his chest.

"Ooo, that tickles!" Spot responds with. You can tell Spider-man is getting annoyed, because he's throwing punch after punch with such force you weren't surprised he crashed your wall effortlessly.

Eventually, you started getting sick of seeing the two fight (if you can even call it that). You stepped out from behind the couch and stood on the cushions. You raised your hands to your mouth, for no reason other than dramatic affect.

"Could you please take this fight elsewhere?! I'm already high in debt, and the broken wall doesn't help!"

Both Spot and Spider-man freeze and turn to you. Spider-man then turned to Spot.

"You put the life of some random stranger in danger just to escape me!"

"I live here! Plus, you were the one following me. So really you put them in danger-"

Before Spot could properly finish, Spider-man man punched him in the face. While Spot was rolling on the floor, holding where his nose would be and "crying", Spider-man turned to you.

"Are you okay ma'am/sir/mx?"

You shook your head.

"No, I'm not okay! You busted my wall and punched my roommate-acquaintance-friend!"

Spider-man was going to respond to your statement, but a portal opening underneath him dropped him out of your living room before he could say anything.

Spot got up from the floor, rubbing his face. He cracked his back, then hands, than neck.

"Jeez, that guy was persistent! Glad he at least saw me as dangerous enough I'd need to be taken in!"

His voice sounded way more happy than you think it should have. He turned to the now open space that acts as a window in your wall. His shoulders slumped, happy mood from earlier dissipating.

"You have some explaining to do," you said, trying to give Spot a harsh look. It was kind of hard because of how pathetic he seemed 24/7.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Guess you're right."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You already figured out about him being from a different universe,because he once gifted you car keys and literally said "they're from a different universe".

Wasn't too hard to figure out.

What did shock you though was that this same dude that you offered to stay in your home because he had nothing and reminded you of a wet cat, was also climbing the list of some Spider-people's most wanted list.

While you were surprised by this, Spot was surprised you didn't seem to have much of a reaction. After the surprise fell, he felt relieved that you probably weren't gonna kick him out.

Only deal was that he'd keep the Spider-people away from your apartment, and help rebuild the wall. And he was perfectly fine with that. Anything to be able to stay with the one person that didn't see him as a freak.

You have told him in the past you weren't a huge fan of Spider-man. Proven today, he broke alot of stuff when fighting crime. And he didn't even help all that much when repairing all of it! Just stands there and takes pictures.

Spot was always glad you didn't like Spider-man. Made living with you a lot easier when you both hated the same person! You always had rants late at night about the shared hatred for the super hero.

One of these nights you two were seated on your couch, brand new glass windows letting in some moonlight through the blinds. The movie you two were watching was finishing up, bucket of popcorn empty and on the floor.

You had one blanket over both of your laps, and you had one wrapped around your shoulders. When the end credits popped up you started ranting about the movie. What you liked, what you didn't, your favorite character, you least favorite character.

You and Spot do this after every new movie you two watched. It was a hobby for you now.

"Oh my god the grave scene! I mean was him taking off his shirt even that necessary? I mean good for the fangirls but like-"

You turned your head to look at Spot, curious about his lack of feedback. When you turned to him you saw his head leaned back against the back of the couch. The spot on his face seemed more like a line than a circle now. Kind of squinted.

'Is he sleeping?' you think. He poke his arm softly. When he doesn't move you do it again, but with a small amount of more force. He still doesn't move. You decide to punch his arm as the final test. Nothing

You lean back to your side of the couch. You stare at the tv for a few minutes, seeing the reflection of you and him. He seemed awfully more peaceful when asleep. But you guess everyone is.

You decided you would just leave him be and go to your room for the night. You slipped the blanket around your shoulders off. You stood up and placed the part of the blanket that was on your lap onto Spot, so that he now has the full blanket.

When you took a step to walk towards you room, you heard the softest whisper you have ever heard in your life.

"Don't go please."

You were surprised you even heard it. You look back at Spot, but he was still in the same position as before. All except for the fact his hand was reached over to where you were seated, gently grasping at the cushion. You stood there for a moment, seeing if he would talk again.

All he did was move so that he was laying down, head resting on the pillow on your side of the couch. He grabbed the big blanket he pulled it up to cover his shoulders. He was too tall for your couch, shins and below sticking out over the opposite side of the couch.

You decided you either A). Imagined what he said or B). It wasn't important.

So you waked to your room, got changed, hopped into the bed, than fell asleep. It was a dreamless night. But Spot was dreaming.

Of you.

A/N: I can't write fight scenes to save my life. Also I kind of have writers block, so sorry if this sucked. Thank you all for the support to my previous parts, hope this didn't dissapoint too much. Also not beta-read)

[pisupsala]

One for The History Books [Chapter 19] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top-secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Words] 3.6k

[Index] All Chapters | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Epilogue

[Library]

Chapter 19 - Rock bottom

“I really fucked up.”

Pete is temporarily stunned into silence. For a second he was elated Bradley was calling him of his own accord, but now he is just worried. His relationship with Bradley has only slowly been healing—facing mortal danger together might have helped them reconnect, but a decade plus of anger, hurt, and grief are hard to set aside.

Bradley was a kid, hell, he still in his teens when they fell out. He’s a grown man now. That’s a lot of time passed.

Much has changed.

He has changed.

But maybe this is his chance to made amends with Bradley. He feels a little spark of hope in his chest that Bradley is choosing to reach out to him—trusts him enough to come to him when he’s in trouble.

“Whatever you do, don’t say anything without a lawyer present.” Pete springs into action immediately, rummaging through paper on his desk. “I know a good one. Where are you? Still in Virginia?”

The silence on the other end of the line is uncomfortably long.

“I’m not in trouble with the law, Mav.” Bradley sounds tired, voice flat.

“Oh.” Pete stops in his tracks. “No, of course.”

He sits back down. Stupid. Bradley was never a troublemaker—he takes after Goose in that sense. At least Pete thinks so. When they talk, they talk about shared memories—things they both remember from… before. Goose, Carole, baseball.

They talk about the Navy and flying, but Bradley omits pretty much anything that pertains to his personal life. Pete assumes he doesn’t rate that information—yet, he hopes—as Bradley probably still resents him on some level.

Healing is a slow process—something Pete is all too familiar with.

“So… what’s going on, Rooster?” Pete asks hesitantly, unsure how to navigate the situation. At first, a deep sigh on the other end of the line is his only answer.

“I just had a huge fight with Darcy,” Bradley pauses awkwardly, like he is trying to gather courage to finished his sentence. “I walked out on her.”

Pete blanches. This conversation is taking a direction he really didn’t expect. When Bradley had visited him, Pete had asked point-blank about whether he had someone waiting for him back home, and Bradley just shrugged. “My girl is back in D.C.”

That was pretty much the end of that conversation. Bradley hadn’t even mentioned a name. Pete realized at that moment how much Bradley is keeping him at arm’s length— and it hurt.

To make matters worse, relationship shit is really not Pete’s forte.

“What did you fight about?”

“Fuck - Mav, I don’t know.” Bradley sounds desperate.

He does know. He’s struggling to find an explanation for that entire shitshow of a day that doesn’t make him look like an absolute monster. You got hurt. Because of him. And when you called him out on it, he retaliated.

A venomous voice in his head tells him you were already spoiling for a fight. You backed him into a corner. Refused to let up even after he asked you to drop it. Then had the audacity to be shocked when he went on the counteroffensive after all the potshots you took.

Fuck. This really isn’t helping anything,

Whichever way he turns it, he took the first shot. Quite literally to your face. And Bradley also knows he’s not going to get out of this unless he confronts everything head on.

Leaning back, eyes screwed shut and heart beating in his throat, he decides it’s best to rip off the band-aid.

“I’ve been having nightmares.” He swallows thickly. “Regularly.”

Pete stays quiet, listening, his breathing the only indication he is still there.

“And today… I hurt Darcy today as I woke up from one. I swear it was a fucking accident, Mav!” Anger creeps back into his voice. Bradley pauses for a moment to steady himself. “She confronted me. I couldn’t handle it.”

It’s out in the open now. Bradley thought that maybe it would help to say it out loud. It doesn’t. If at all possible, he feels worse.

“How long?” Pete’s voice is steady, no nonsense. Bradley rubs his eyes. He needs to see this through. Then, more urgently: “How long, Bradley?”

“Since the mission.”

“The crash?” Pete pauses. “Just that?”

“Yeah, sorry, it was my first time being shot down by a SAM behind enemy lines.” Bradley spits out venomously. He doesn’t even know why he reacts so defensively—the question was far from accusatory.

“It could have been any number of things from that mission.” Pete feels like he’s flying blind. “Not everything… we carry with us has to stem from one incident. Sometimes it’s years of things that build up to a breaking point.”

Bradley is silent, waiting for Pete to continue.

“Does it affect your flying at all?”

“No.” Finally opening his eyes and blinking against the sun reflecting from the hood of his car, Bradley continues. “Just my sleep. Sometimes it’s weeks of nothing, and then suddenly I wake up every night.”

Sometimes it’s easier to just keep talking.

“I was afraid to fall asleep next to Darcy. I knew I would sometimes jerk awake violently, and I didn’t want her to know. I didn’t want to hurt her.”

“But she knew.” Pete concludes, not unkindly. “How did she react?”

“She never pushed the issue. I thought it would go away eventually.” Bradley replies honestly.

“Until she did.”

Bradley lets out a heavy sigh and echos in a pained voice: “Yeah, until she did.”

“Mav - I don’t know what to do.”

Pete slumps in his seat, not knowing what to say. Bradley sounds so lost.

“Go home, Rooster, clear your head.” Pete hesitates. “And give Darcy some space for a bit. It’ll be easier to talk when you’ve both had some time to cool down.”

“What if she’s done talking?”

In moments like this, Penny would know what to say. She always does. Pete struggles to find comforting words—are there even any?

“Do you believe she might be?” He asks instead.

“I’m… I’m terrified that she is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Darcy! Darce! Jesus Christ, what happened?”

You’re sobbing so hard you are nearly dry-heaving, body shaking, as you kneel hunched over on the floor. After what seems like ages, you finally catch your breath enough to speak.

“Bradley walked out on me.” You utter completely defeated, fresh tears rolling down your face. Speaking it out loud is like making it a reality.

“Oh sweetie…”

“He just fucking up and left, Beth.”

“Did you fight?” Beth asks kindly.

“Yeah…” You swallow thickly. You hear Emma whine in the background. “He’s been so evasive, like he just never could completely show himself to me. And I guess… it just all came to a head today…” You trail off into a soft sob.

“I’m sorry, Darce.”

“Just why!? It’s so fucking unfair!” Anger breaks through your grief like a lance. “I’ve been nothing but patient—I gave Bradley every opportunity. I waited, I gave him space. And what do I get? Fucking nothing. He throws his parents’ death at me to shut me up. Who the fuck does that?”

You fall silent for a moment.

“He said both his parents died before he was out of high school…” You trail off, voice breaking, as your anger melts away as quickly as it bubbled up.

“Jesus, that’s awful.” Beth agrees sympathetically. “What brought all this on?”

You still. No matter how much you want to vent to your sister, get all the poison from the fight out of your system, you hesitate to tell her about Bradley’s nightmares. It was the catalyst, but doesn’t feel like your place to share.

Strangely, despite your vicious anger, you still feel protective of Bradley.

“I might have pushed too hard…” It’s probably technically not even untrue. “I am just so tired of having to guess, feeling like I am never enough and always only being shown snapshots, not a whole person.”

“Darcy…” Beth’s weary tone raises your hackles. You’re not going to like where this is going, you can tell. “You always do this.”

“Do what?” You retort defensively.

“You have the patience of a saint, but when you’ve had enough, god knows you’re like a bat out of hell.” Beth’s voice is calm, but it’s like nails on a chalkboard to you. “You stay in your head until you can’t make sense of something, and then you dig in, tearing at wounds when you have no idea how to stop the bleeding.”

“I didn’t start this.” You grind out.

“But you’ve let it come to this.” Beth argues back gently.

“I called you to help me feel better, not to get a lecture about how you think I am a doormat.” You cut at Beth. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Never said you’re a doormat,” Beth counters easily, “And I am helping you.”

You don’t reply, just rolling your eyes instead. Your whole face feels puffy, skin strangely tight from the dried tears. The bruise under your eye still stings. That strange hollow feeling in your stomach is back—the exact feeling you had last summer when you thought Bradley ghosted you. But it never hurt like this, it’s like it’s tearing your insides apart.

“Look…” You hear Beth take a deep breath. “In the end, you can only control your own actions. And I get it, it sucks right now. How many times have our places been switched in this situation?” She ends with a slight chuckle.

Beth is right—despite your many differences, you shared pretty much every teenage heartbreak together, crying cuddled up in bed, sharing pints of ice cream and bingeing rom-coms. Unfortunately, you’re several thousand miles away from each other now.

It’s an ice-cold realization trickling down your spine.

You are alone.

“Do you think I should call Bradley and apologize?” Your heart feels heavy, like it’s being weighed down by a boulder. “I said some… truly awful things.”

“No.” The resoluteness in Beth answer takes you aback. “God, Darcy. Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?” You want to be angry and argue back, but your voice is thick with tears again.

“Bradley walked out on you. What kind of signal are you giving by calling him now to apologize?” You don’t have an answer, so you just sit, lip quivering. Beth continues: “Christ, I mean—I get it. I really do. And Darce, god, my heart aches for you. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so devastated. But don’t do this to yourself.”

You are fully back to crying again. “Beth - wha- what are you saying?”

“Let him make the first move. Let Bradley apologize for leaving.” Beth leaves no room to argue. “If you call him now, you condemn yourself to doing all the emotional labor every time you fight and absolve him from taking responsibility for his actions.”

Beth hesitates for a moment as she listens to you crying silently.

“And Darcy… if you do that, you’ll never be happy.”

“But what if Bradley doesn’t come back?” You whisper brokenly. Could you ever be happy again if that happened? You can’t bear to think about it.

“Then…,” Beth swallows almost nervously. “Then he was always going to walk out on you. Sooner or later.”

The desperate sob that tears from your lips has Beth screwing her eyes shut in pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After what can only be described as the Monday from hell, Bradley collapses on his bed and he feels like the walls are about to cave in on him. Where the room had felt cold and barren before, compared to your small and cozy apartment, it feels like a complete black hole now. He stares into the darkness.

Since yesterday, he must have started a hundred different messages and erased every single one. What can he even say? 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to walk out like that”? 

Except he did. 

Bradley regrets it now, but at the moment it felt like the only course of action. Should he apologize? Somehow, it doesn’t feel adequate to do it over text, but it’s too late to call tonight. And he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have enough courage to that either way. What if you don’t pick up? What if you’re really done talking?

You haven’t texted him, either. 

It gnaws at him. 

Some things are irreversible. No matter how much he wants to wake up, wishes it away—reality is immutable. It’s a deep sense of dread, knowing he’s on a path that he can’t change. The doomed outcome is pre-determined. 

He had that same feeling when his mother got sick, and it became clear she wasn’t going to get better anymore.

It’s the exact feeling when he ejected from his flaming aircraft. 

And no matter how much he tries to push it away, that dread is creeping up on him now, clawing at his mind, tearing at his heart.

Can he still turn the tide?

How does he let someone in his life? The life that’s he forgotten how to talk about; every memory overshadowed by pain, death, and betrayal. How can he ever start to all untangle that after leaving it to fester deep inside him for so many years? Is there a way to explain that in his dreams, he sees everything he loves disappear in roaring flames?

Bradley knows all too well he’s been carrying this pain inside him—he just likes to pretend it’s not there, even though it very definitely influences his thinking and behavior. It always has. He went on every tour possible, volunteered to stay behind as the duty over the holidays, and made incredibly sure he would never find himself on a carrier with Mav. Hell, the fact that he’s even in the Navy…

The matter of the fact is, time is running out for him. He needs to do something. How can he convince you that he wants to give every part of him to you, but doesn’t know how?   

Bradley feels like he’s almost paralyzed by the uncertainty he’s feeling and the questions that are running in circles through his head. 

Almost automatically, he dials Pete’s number. It’s not that late on the Pacific coast yet, and Bradley doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep either way as the feeling of dread envelops him.

“Hey Rooster,” Pete greets him casually as he picks up on the first ring. “How are you?” 

“I’ve been better.” Bradley sighs. “Do you have time to talk?”

“Yeah, of course.” Pete replies immediately. 

Bradley sits up in his bed, leaning his back against the wall. “I feel like I’m stuck. Darcy hasn’t been in touch, and I don’t know what to say to her.” The frustration is evident in his voice, he’s been going in circles in his head for hours now. “It’s like there’s a doomsday clock hanging over my head—I’m leaving for a month-long training mission in a week and I need to do something.” 

“It’s probably a good start to tell Darcy you want to talk and resolve this.” Pete supplies patiently. “There’s no use in forcing a resolution now, just because you are leaving. You can still talk when you are in Texas, too. Give each other time to heal and figure what you want from this.” 

Bradley swallows. Leaving you to figure out what you want from your relationship is the single most terrifying prospect of the whole situation. Every minute that passes where he doesn’t hear from you, he becomes more convinced it’s because you are figuring out that his broken and emotionally damaged presence is not worth the hassle.

“I don’t think Darcy will be waiting for me anymore if I don’t do something now.” Bradley confesses, feeling like the dread that had been creeping up just pushed his head underwater.

“What do you think needs to be done?” Pete asks honestly.

“I don’t know!” Bradley half-shouts. “Sorry- I—I just don’t know” He groans. “I don’t know how to give her what she’s asking. I don’t know how to let her in—I’ve closed that part of myself off for so long, I don’t even know how to let myself in anymore.” 

“Why not start with telling her that?”

“Wouldn’t that be admitting outright I can’t give her what she wants?” Bradley sounds exasperated. “Might as well just end the whole thing right away.” 

“I don’t really know Darcy,” Pete pauses for a moment. “But maybe give her a bit more credit—she stuck by you so far.” 

“It’s not enough.” Bradley’s voice is pained. Talking about his fears actually makes him feel like you’re actually slipping through his fingers. “Darcy deserves better. More.” 

Running his hand through his hair, Bradley sits in his dark barracks room wishing he was anywhere else. With you preferably. Just so he could talk to you, at least try to explain. Mav is still talking to him, but Bradley barely hears him. 

Back when Bradley was a teenager, Mav had some singularly horrible advice when it came to girls and relationships, proven by his own pretty disastrous love live. In the years they spent apart, Mav clearly went through some personal growth, as most of his advice is… balanced and level-headed. Mature even.

“Don’t think, just do.” Bradley mumbles. 

“What?” Pete stops mid-sentence, surprised. 

“I’m wasting time overthinking this.” Bradley starts with renewed energy—suddenly things start clicking into place. And while Pete feels like he should be happy Bradley is coming to some sort of break through, he can’t help but feel worried. From what he’s seen, Bradley veers dangerously between extremes of cautiousness and overthinking to what even Mav can only describe as recklessness.

“I need to get my mom’s ring.” 

The words hang in the air while Pete tries to parse what Bradley just said. On the other hand, Bradley is pretty sure he just found the solution to the whole problem. You want to be in his life, and he wants you there—so what better way to do it than just show you he is committed to you for the long haul? 

Even better, it will give him time to figure his shit out with you by his side.

“You want Carole’s ring… for Darcy?” Pete asks cautiously, trying to ensure he’s actually understanding Bradley’s sudden leap in logic.

“Yeah. Don’t you think it makes sense?” 

“I - I don’t know, Rooster.” Pete pauses, unsure. “Getting your mom’s ring for Darcy is… a pretty big step.” 

He considers his options. Pete doesn’t want to alienate Bradley by talking him out of this, and women like grand romantic gestures, right? “But if you think it’s the right thing to so, you have my support.” He concludes diplomatically.

Bradley can’t believe Mav is not more enthused by his plan. But before he can start arguing his point, he hears the metallic sound of a pan being slammed down with considerable force, followed by the noise of rapid footsteps coming closer. 

“Pen- Penny-” Pete protests weakly through the rustling and crackling on the line as the phone is getting wrung out of his hand. “Pen - stop!”  

“Give me the phone, Pete.” Penny’s voice is low.

“Hey Pen-” Bradley starts sheepishly. He had no idea Pete was with her. She mercilessly cuts him off.

“Bradley Bradshaw, if you propose to that poor girl after walking out on her, so help me god, I’m banning from the Hard Deck for life.” 

“I - what?” Bradley is lost for words. First off, how does Penny know…? Ah. Mav probably talked to her. All that sudden levelheaded advice had to come from somewhere. Secondly—how is she not onboard with this? Penny had been telling him for years she should settle down.

“And I cannot believe you are going along with this, Pete!” Penny’s on a warpath now. Somewhere in the background, Mav is mumbling something that sounds like an apology. “Proposing with his mother’s ring, no less!” 

“What do you suggest I do then?” Bradley fires back. 

“Talk to her.”

God, back to square one.

“It’s not that easy, Penny.” 

“Then tell her that.” The edge in Penny’s voice softens. “You have to start somewhere. But a proposal is not an apology or resolution.” 

Bradley deflates as he pulls up his knees. For a hot second, he thought he finally had it figured out.

“So don’t put Darcy—or yourself for that matter—in that position. Whatever problems you are having will still be there, the only difference will be the ring on her finger.” She continues sympathetically. 

“And that ring will suffocate you both if you don’t figure this out first.” Penny’s voice is suddenly laced with pain, the kind that comes from experience. Bradley silently contemplates his options. 

“I -I’m scared...” He starts, hating how his voice shakes. “I’m scared of telling Darcy what I see at night. I don’t want her to see how broken I really am.” 

He takes a shuddering breath. “What if she doesn’t want me anymore?”

That’s the knife stuck in his heart. What if you don’t want him anymore if he’s not the fun, confident and capable Rooster you fell in love with, but just the scared and hurt Bradley that is plagued by nightmares?

“There’s a reason they say “for better or for worse.” Penny’s voice is soft. “Give her—give yourself a chance. And be honest. You can come out of this together, and be stronger for it.”   

“Thanks Pen.” Bradley suddenly feels exhausted, like he’s been on a metal rollercoaster. He says his goodbye’s to both Mav and Penny, sitting motionless in the darkness of his room, staring at the light emanating from his phone, feeling more and more lost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[note] When it comes to relationship shit, Rooster and Mav have share one brain cell, but Penny is actually in charge of it.

[taglist] @ponyboys-sunsets | @thatchickwiththecamera | @littlewhiterose | @katieshook02 | @straightforwardly | @zazzysseoul | @rororo06 | @datingbtr | @notalxx | @fresh-new-yoik-watah | @gretagerwigsmuse  | @swthxrry | @joshkiskasbunion | @caelipartem | @blackbrownie | @yanak324 | @unluckymonaghan | @letusbewildflowers | @ticklish-leafy-plant | @alana4610 | @eg-dr3amer3 | @turningtoclown | @mell-bell | @mak-32 | @avis15 | @helplesslydevoted | @benhardysdrumstick | @chaoticversion | @cherrycola27

[teamfreewill-imagine]

I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Fifty-Eight

Summary: Paparazzi meet you and Jared exiting the hotel, forcing your hand at announcing your pregnancy Words: 2.8k  Jared x Reader x Gen  Warnings: pregnancy, mild angst

IKYW Masterpost

You blinked your eyes open the next morning, a content smile on your face, to find Jared already awake and watching you.

“What’re you doing, weirdo?” you asked, making him laugh softly and sit up.

“You looked so peaceful,” he reasoned, stretching his neck from side to side.

You hummed, smiling up at him.

“Doesn’t sound like me at all,” you joked, and he rolled his eyes as he got out of bed. “Where are you going?”

“Gonna shower,” he told you, unabashedly naked as he found his spare clothes in his bag. “You’re welcome to join.”

“In a minute,” you told him, breaking off into a yawn. “Gotta wake up first.”

“Sure,” he smiled, crawling over to you to kiss you softly before making his way through to the bathroom.

"You're really hot!" you called after him, hearing his laugh over the sound of water hitting tiles. "I'm serious. A great looking guy."

"It's good to know you're with me for the right reasons," he shot back, appearing in the doorway with his hands holding the frame, flexing his arms deliberately to make you grin.

"You're literally the sexiest man I've ever met," you assured him, getting out of bed to find your own clothes for the day.

You'd pulled on a long tee to sleep, but you still felt Jared's eyes tracking your ass as you bent to search through your bag.

"You're not so bad, yourself," he told you, making you laugh again as you backed him into the generous bathroom.

You put your clothes next to his on the counter before running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

"I'll remind you of that in a few weeks when I can't fit through a doorway," you jibed.

He shook his head, hands instantly going to your ever-growing bump.

"You're still hot when you're pregnant," he assured you, encouraging you to take your sleep shirt off.

"You've only seen me pregnant with one baby at twenty," you reminded him, pulling your top off and heading for the shower. "Now it's two at twenty-four."

"Yeah, and you're still gonna be sexy as hell," he promised, following you in. "I'm always gonna think you're hot."

"Oh yeah?" you grinned, standing under the warm stream and pulling him towards you.

He nodded, his hands slipping over your waist to the top of your ass.

He ducked his head to kiss you under the water, and you grinned against his lips.

"Prove it."

*****

You left the hotel in thick leggings and a sweater, regretting your disregard for your appearance when you noticed a camera pointed your way.

“Fuck,” you groaned behind your mask, Jared instantly taking your hand and walking you towards the car.

“We’re okay,” he told you, both of your bags over his shoulder as he offered a small wave with his free hand. “Someone obviously tipped off that we’re here.”

You shook your head as you approached the car, keen to get inside as soon as possible.

“What’s wrong?” Jared asked, putting your bags in the back before getting into the front.

You were already strapped in, taking your mask off and sanitising your hands again.

“I look like shit,” you started, pressing on as he rolled his eyes and cleaned his own hands. “Plus, I’m clearly either pregnant or fat, now.”

“You don’t look fat,” he dismissed, starting the car.

“Then I’m obviously pregnant,” you insisted, tugging at your sweater. “This doesn’t exactly hide the babes very well.”

“Is that what we’re calling your boobs, now?” he teased, making you laugh despite yourself.

“Stop, I’m serious,” you told him. “I don’t want this pregnancy to be outed by some stupid pap shots.”

You leaned your head back against the rest, closing your eyes as your hands went to your bump.

“I wanted to announce it my own way, this time,” you mused, “Not have my hand forced. Again.”

Jared sighed, feeling guilty as he knew it was his slip up that had forced your announcement with Dallas.

“You’ve probably got about an hour,” he told you, “Maybe a little less, until a shitty article comes out. You could… you could beat them to it. Make their breaking news a little less breaking.”

You opened your eyes, looking over at his profile as he drove.

“You think that’s a good idea?” you questioned, and he shrugged one shoulder, briefly meeting your eye.

“I understand that it’s important for you to be in control of this,” he explained, his honesty and level of understanding taking you by surprise. “So much of your life has been out of your hands, and being able to announce this in your own way… I get it. Whatever you want to do, I’m in.”

*****

You called Gen on the way home, not wanting to wait until you got back, talking to her on loudspeaker so Jared was still a part of the conversation.

She understood that you wanted to announce it before any pictures were released, supporting your decision to post whatever you wanted.

You kept her on the call as you described what you were doing, finding a picture you’d taken the day you had found out you were pregnant shortly before Thanksgiving and creating an instagram post.

“I’m gonna… I’ll turn comments off,” you told them. “I don’t actually wanna talk about it all until we’re 16 weeks at least, but I need to be the one to say it.”

“Of course,” Gen agreed. “We support you, don’t we, Jare?”

“For sure,” Jared confirmed. “We can post it and forget about it for a few weeks, if that’s what you want.”

“Alright, I’m doin’ it,” you mumbled, making sure that comments were turned off before hitting send.

“Proud of you, baby,” Gen told you, making you laugh softly. “I know this isn’t how you wanted to announce it, but taking back control from dumb paps? That’s our girl.”

“Hell yeah,” Jared agreed, reaching across to take your hand. “You did good.”

“Sure,” you allowed, your phone already blowing up from your post. “Gen, we’re nearly home.”

“Alright, see you soon,” she told you, you and Jared both saying goodbye before you hung up.

“That was a good idea, right?” you asked, looking over at Jared as he continued to drive.

“For sure,” he confirmed without missing a beat. “I would’ve tried to stop you if it wasn’t.”

You smiled to yourself, running your hand over your bump as you watched likes and messages come in.

“It’s gonna be a weird couple weeks.”

*****

*****

You, Jared, and Gen had all contacted your agents when you got home, explaining that despite the announcement, you weren’t yet interested in expanding any more about your pregnancy. Jared had an interview upcoming with Good Morning America coming up - something you’d all forgotten about in the moment - but he had requested as little talk about the news as possible. He was happy to be congratulated, but beyond that you’d agreed to keep the details quiet until the twins had been cooking a little while longer. The only real detail you already had was the fact that they were identical, anyway.

The shots of you and Jared leaving the hotel came out soon after you returned home, with the source calling it your first outing since announcing your pregnancy, despite nothing being announced before said outing. Others commented on the fact that you were without Genevieve, speculating that she might not support the new additions to the family and that your relationship might be on the rocks. As soon as Gen saw one of those theories, however, she made sure to share your post to her story, simply stating that she couldn’t wait to meet them, hopefully dispelling as much as much of those rumours as possible.

*****

You and Gen were entertaining Dallas in the living room while Jared prepared for his interview in the office, the boys still at school for a few more hours.

Your stomach let out a loud gurgle, surprising your daughter from where she was sat at on the floor, Gen sat behind her braiding her hair.

“Sorry, baby,” you apologised, running your hand over your bump.

“S’that twinnies?” Dallas asked, making both you and Genevieve laugh.

“That’s just Mama being hungry,” Gen told her, running her fingers through Dallas’ hair and starting the braid again.

“But it is kinda the twinnies’ fault,” you allowed, getting to your feet. “I’m eatin’ for three.”

“I’m three,” Dallas announced, and Gen abandoned the braid in order to wrap her arms around her, pulling Dallas onto her lap.

“You are,” she laughed, kissing your daughter’s cheek. “You gotta stop growing, okay? You gotta stay this cute forever.”

“M’kay,” she agreed, leaning back into Gen’s embrace.

“Alright, ladies,” you began, getting to your feet, “What do we want for lunch?”

“I don’t mind,” Gen told you, putting her head on Dallas’ shoulder. “What about you, Bambina? Any requests?”

“Mac ‘n’ cheese,” she blurted, smiling up at you sweetly. “Please, Mama.”

Your stomach rumbled again at her words, making you laugh softly.

“Sounds like the twinnies agree,” you joked, Dallas grinning back at you. “I’ll start cookin’.”

“What do you say?” Gen prompted, and Dallas got up, rushing over to hug your legs.

“Tank you, Mommy,” she spoke into your thigh.

“You’re welcome, Dallas,” you smiled as you ruffled her hair, making a mess. “Let Bambi fix that and I’ll go make some macaroni.”

*****

Jared handled the interview as well as you could have hoped.

You knew he was especially conscious not to let anything slip, this time, and you were aware that it was going to be difficult if he was directly asked questions about it.

“They congratulated us,” he told you once it was over, joining you in the kitchen as you prepared your lunch. “Well, me, but us.”

“We kinda knew they would,” you allowed, leaning into him as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“I just thanked them and said we’re all excited,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “They moved on to working with Gen and Walker questions pretty quick.”

“Good work, baby,” you smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. “Dallas and the twinnies wanted mac and cheese.”

Jared smiled, pulling away from you in order to lean against the counter next to the stove, where you were heating the sauce and boiling the pasta.

“The twins wanted it, huh?” he asked with a knowing grin.

“They did,” you defended. “I wouldn’t usually be hungry this early if it wasn’t for these little guys.”

Jared rolled his lips between his teeth, trying to suppress another smile.

“What?” you asked, and he shook his head slightly as he let out a laugh. 

“I’m just excited,” he admitted, smiling bashfully. “We’re having twins.”

“Yah, two of ‘em,” you confirmed, making him roll his eyes.

You switched the heat off under the pasta, looking up at Jared hopefully.

He took the hint without a word, taking the pot to the sink to drain the macaroni while you stirred the sauce to stop it from sticking. He brought the pot back over, carefully pouring the cooked pasta into the sauce as you continued to stir.

“Look at you, making an actual meal from scratch,” Jared teased, causing you to huff a laugh.

“I’ve been a competent cook for a while now,” you defended, and he nodded.

“I know, you’re great,” he agreed, washing the pasta pot at the sink. “But seeing you cook while pregnant reminded me of last time. When I taught you to make that veggie lasagne.”

“I was absolutely useless back then,” you remembered, and Jared raised a brow.

“In the kitchen, maybe,” he allowed.

You caught the glimmer in his eye, swatting him with the back of your hand.

“Get away, you pervert,” you teased, pulling out a dish to finish the mac in the oven.

“I’m just sayin’, we’re good at what we do,” he grinned. “We’ve made three babies.”

“Go and talk to the first one,” you laughed, pretending to push him away. “I’ll call y’all for lunch in a few.”

“I love you,” he told you over his shoulder as he left.

“Yeah,” you replied, fighting a smile. “I love you too, loser.”

*****

You were all sat in the front room, Jared’s laptop open on the coffee table as the six of you spoke with Gen’s mom on FaceTime when the boys were home from school that afternoon.

She’d called for a general catch up, and the kids were happy to tell her every little detail about what they’d done since their last call together.

Your phone started to vibrate in your pocket, and you instantly apologised as you pulled it out.

“It’s my dad,” you noted, looking at Jared before back at the screen. “Sorry, he never really calls.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Camille told you. “It was lovely to see you.”

“You too,” you agreed, answering the video call from Jensen as you left the room.

“Thought you were gonna leave me to ring out,” he joked, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“We were talking with Gen’s mom,” you informed him, heading up to your bedroom. “What’re you calling for?”

“Wow, rude,” he teased. “Can’t I just call to talk to my daughter? My sweet, sweet child that I love so much? The apple of my eye?”

You laughed despite yourself.

“You’re such a drama queen,” you told him, sitting against your headboard. “Did you actually just call for a chat, or-?”

“Yeah, kinda,” he admitted, laughing softly. “Dee’s entertaining the kids, figured I’d take a break and call you.”

“You getting tired of being their horse?” you asked, having seen the video Danneel posted the day before.

“Honestly, yeah,” he laughed. “I’m getting old.”

“Don’t talk about my dad like that,” you grinned, earning a fond smile.

“If you’ve gotta get back to your call, I don’t wanna keep you,” he told you, and you shook your head.

“It’s okay, the kids are boring Camille to death, I’m pretty sure,” you explained. “So, what do you wanna talk about?”

He hummed, contemplating.

“How about your completely blasé pregnancy announcement?” he offered. “What was all that about?”

You laughed, running the hand that wasn’t holding your phone over your ever-growing bump.

“Me and Jared got papped coming out of a hotel,” you explained, “And I was pretty clearly pregnant, so I figured I should just announce it before there was a chance to make it into some kinda scandal again.”

“Smart,” Jensen agreed, scratching his bearded chin. “What were you and Jared doing at a hotel, anyway?”

“At the hotel?” you clarified, and he nodded. “Sex, mostly. Some sleeping.”

You laughed at the instant look of exasperation on his face; a roll of his eyes together with a soft tut.

“That’s… that’s clearly not what I meant,” he reminded you.

“It was date night,” you explained, taking pity on his evident disappointment with your first answer. “Last weekend was me and Jared, this week is Jared and Gen.”

“So the odd one out stays home with the kids?” Jensen asked, and you nodded.

“Yep,” you confirmed. “Basically realised we don’t spend a lot of one-on-one time with each other. Like, we have three kids. And our usual date nights were all three of us, so we’re changing it up a bit.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed.

“Gonna try and do it weekly until the babies arrive,” you told him.

He nodded, taking in what you were saying.

“What?” you asked, when he didn’t respond for a while. “What are you thinking?”

“You’re happy, right?” he questioned, making you frown slightly.

“About what?” you asked, and he shrugged.

“Everything, I guess,” he sighed. “Your relationship.”

The question took you by surprise, the sincerity in his expression leading you to believe that he thought you might not be.

“I love them,” you assured him. “Jay, I wouldn’t have wanted another baby with them if I didn’t. They’re good to me, they put up with my shit and call me on it when I’m being an idiot.”

“And you’re happy?” he clarified, making you laugh softly.

“Yeah, Dad, I’m happy,” you promised. “You’d be the first to know if I wasn’t.”

“That’s a lie, you’d call Danneel,” he protested, and you nodded in defeat.

“Y’all are a unit, though,” you reasoned. “Calling Danneel is the same as calling you.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe call me a little more,” he shrugged, and realisation hit you that he had been feeling a little left out.

“Is this your way of telling me that you miss me?” you asked, earning a soft laugh.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he allowed. “Call your dad, once in a while.”

You nodded, pulling your legs up under you.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind,” you assured him. “Now tell me what’s going on with you.”

[opbackgrounds]

Firstly - get better soon Sarc!! Secondly, a question - how about a rating of doctors/medical professionals in One Piece? Worst to best, and why =D

Worst to best, eh? Going to have to consult the wiki on this, but I’ll give it my best shot

Hogback: I considered putting him higher since he seems to be a competent surgeon—successfully transferring animal parts onto Absolom, among other things—but his utter disregard for ethics puts him at the bottom. Doc Q is a terrible human being, but he doesn’t claim to be advancing medical science. Plus, his supposed greatest feat isn’t even his own. Without Moriah’s devil fruit, Hogback’s “resurrections” don’t exist. He’s a fraud and a creep, -100/10

Doc Q: We haven’t seen him do much doctoring but considering his own health and that of his horse, I have my doubts. That, and handing out exploding apples and then blaming fate when they explode is generally regarded as bad practice. He’s caused much harm and brought no health, so -10/10

Hiliruk: An inspirational figure does not a good doctor make. Please don’t force feed children frog spawn in order to treat their broken bones 0/10

Dr. Blackbeard: we didn’t see his medical practice, but he seemed nice and probably didn’t deserve to be kicked in the head by an Emperor’s commander ???/10

Masked Deuce: I read both Ace novels and didn’t remember he was a doctor, but the wiki says he was a dropout with sucky grades so we’ll say 2/10

Aladine: Also did not remember he was a doctor, but unlike almost everyone else on this list he was sensitive to mental health issues. But without seeing him more in action I can’t give him higher than a 5/10

Nako: Don’t know much about him, but he gave Nami her tattoo and stitched up Zoro’s chest so 5/10 for being partially responsible in universe for two iconic character designs

Marco: Devil. Fruit. Hax. Seen more slapping on temporary (albeit effective) bandaid solutions than truly healing underlying conditions and hasn’t shown himself to be any great specialist or researcher 7/10

Crocus: He’s a doctor and a veterinarian, so he gets bonus points. Couldn’t heal Roger, but kept him alive for his last journey, and is a good enough engineer to hook Laboons stomach up with electric lighting without killing him 8/10

Kureha: If this were based purely on knowledge and expertise she’d win hands down, but we don’t see here treat the range of injuries and illness as some others, and her predatory business practices run the risk of causing real harm to her patients. Don’t through scalpels at your patients while robbing them blind. 10/10 doctor, -100/10 bedside manner

Law: Devil Fruit hax with legitimate medical genius is a dangerous combination in a man who literally steals hearts as a hobby. 10/10 doctor, but there’s a good chance he’ll just murder you instead

Chopper: Protagonist powers, and is the only upper tier doctor who is genuinely altruistic while conducting ground breaking research in the area of manipulating his devil fruit abilities with the power of SCIENCE. He was fifteen years old when he kept Zoro from dying at the end of Thriller Bark and reverse engineered viruses in the middle of a battle as the equivalent as a high school junior. 11/10 doctor, I will be forever mad that Oda never shows more off his efforts keeping these morons alive

Whitebeard’s nurses get a bonus shout out, because as great as he was as a person Edward Newgate was a shit patient and they all had to work in those ridiculous outfits. 15/10 for the lot of of them, I hope he at least paid well

[sapphirefallschronicles]

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Welcome to Sapphire Falls - chapter 10 ❜┊˚̥۪͙۪◌

Basketballer!Chris Evans x Abigail Syverson (plus size!ofc) & Farmer!Syverson x Livia Darmandi (Asian ofc)

Summary: Abigail spends her time doing what she loves to do the most and Chris joins her and admires her art.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: None

The Advent Calendar (a.k.a. the masterlist)

Sapphire Lake is my favorite place to go. It’s the place where I go to clear my mind and usually where I do my best photographing. Sy knows better than to bother me when I’m here. There is this unspoken agreement where we just leave the other be when we take off like that. Sy and I are close, but not that close, where we share every thought.

If that were the case, he would’ve known about my other dreams.

Dreams outside of this farm. A life away from Sapphire Falls, but in a big city. Sapphire Falls is a wonderful town, but it’s too small for my dreams. 

I walk around the lake, camera ready in hand. The sun is shining brightly, making it a little less cold. But I wouldn’t mind having someone by my side who could warm my hands. 

Suddenly I spot a squirrel out of the corner of my eye. I stand still immediately, and slowly raise my camera. I manage to take a few beautiful shots, when I hear footsteps behind me. The squirrel jumps away, and I’m ready to scold the person responsible for ruining my shot and mood. 

‘Hi,’ I hear from behind me and it’s Chris. 

‘Hi,’ I answer softly, already forgotten I was annoyed utter seconds ago.  

‘Could’ve known,’ he chuckles, ‘still into the photography.’

He stands so tall, so wonderfully handsome. He stops next to me and looks over the lake, looking serene and content. 

‘Of course.’ I lower my camera, and watch over the lake with him. ��You chased a squirrel away.’

‘I’m terribly sorry,’ Chris smiles. 

‘You don’t mean that,’ I chuckle, and punch his arm playfully. 

‘Nah, I prefer looking at you than a squirrel.’ He nudges his shoulder against mine, and I feel heat rising to my cheeks. 

‘Are you here for a walk or were you looking for me?’ I ask, avoiding his comment. 

‘A walk, but I was hoping to run into you. You used to come here all the time, so I figured I’d go here.’ He gestures towards the trail, and we start walking. 

We walk side by side for a couple minutes in silence. It’s nice to be with him again, it feels comfortable, easy. Even when we aren’t speaking. Chris and I could hang out without speaking. Back in high school, he would watch basketball videos, analyzing games, while I read my book. Hours would go by without a word being spoken. But right now, I want to know what happened to him in the last few years, how he is actually doing.

Not wanting to ask about the thing I'm mostly curious about, I decide to play it safe. ‘How is your knee?’ I ask him, breaking the silence. 

‘It’s good. Doing my daily exercises as the physiotherapist told me to do. He recommended going for walks, something I’d never do in Chicago, but I love doing it here. Damn, I sound like an old man.’

‘Thankfully you don’t look like one,’ I laugh. 

‘Oh yeah? Then what do I look like uh?’ He takes a big stride, faces me, and stops. I crash into his hard chest, and he gently grabs my shoulders. Fuck. 

I open my mouth but no words come out. Never speechless, except when it comes to Chris Evans. ‘Chris. You have literally been on the cover of countless magazines, have millions of fans praise your looks. You really need me to boost your ego even more?’ I joke. 

Chris wants to say something, when we hear leaves rustle in the distance. Our eyes shoot to the direction it came from, and my photographer heart makes a jump. 

Three deer are standing not too far away, the sun behind them shining through the trees. Chris and I fall silent again, the wind and rustling leaves the only sound. I raise my camera, zoom in, and take a picture. And another. And another. 

The deer don’t notice us, giving me time to capture them. Chris is still close to me, watching over my shoulder. I can feel his breath in my neck, and his hand is placed on my lower back. I’m thankful I can focus my attention on the deers, because otherwise I would go crazy. 

The gorgeous animals start to get restless, and I lose my focus and Chris starts to rub gently circles on my lower back. My breathing becomes irregular, my knees start to shake. 

As I try to steady my feet, I step on a little twig. The cracking sound makes its way to the three deer, and they all look up, and run away. We’re alone again. Standing close, extremely close. 

‘Come on, pose,’ I say jokingly, but that is only to get some distance between us, if I want to continue breathing. My heart is racing, and I’m sure Chris can hear it beat.

‘Sure thing.’ Chris walks away from me and says: ‘Well, you’re the photographer, tell me what to do!’

 I laugh while adjusting the settings of my camera. ‘Just stand over there, a little more to the left, and smile! Keep moving around.’

Chris does as I say, and he looks way too good in his jeans, white shirt and jean jacket. An outfit like that shouldn’t look this good. Suddenly he pulls his white tee down a bit, revealing his chest tattoos. I nearly choke and drop my camera. Get a grip Abigail. Oh lord help me. 

He notices, and he has the audacity to smirk. I tighten my grip on the camera, raising it to hide behind it. That smirk does things to me, makes me feel things. Feelings I shouldn’t let in, feelings I need to put behind me. He is only here until his injury is over, he will leave me. Again. 

●・○・●・○・●

As I’m showing the pictures of him, I click one too far and we’re looking at the engagement shoot of people here in town. They asked me to take their engagement pictures and they are absolutely breathtaking.

But they are also engagement pictures and I accidentally showed it to someone who just broke off his engagement. 

‘I’m sorry,’ I say.

‘No, no, no,’ he is quick to say. ‘Don’t apologize. These are really good.’

A lot better than whoever took your engagement pictures. ‘Thank you.’

‘I liked the way you make use of the natural lighting. It is one of your strong suits in photography.’

‘Wow, throwing some technical terms around I see,’ I smile. ‘Thank you, that’s kind of you to say.’ 

We continue our walk, Sapphire Falls almost back in sight. 

‘I should have known something was off when me and Bethany took our engagement pictures,’ he starts. ‘They look nothing like the ones you took. That couple looks happy, glowing. We looked like distant cousins, forced to take a picture together.’

I feel sorry for him. His shoulders slouch a little, and he looks like a lost puppy. ‘Did you love her?’

‘I thought I did, but looking back, I think it was just easy to be with her. We hardly spend any time together. I had a busy schedule, with basketball training and games. She was never home, always meeting with friends or going on trips. So, when we were together, we had something to talk about. Nothing deep, only superficial stuff,’ Chris continues. 'We lived together, but did not belong together I guess.’

‘I’m sorry about that Chris, you don’t deserve that.’

‘Turned out she was avoiding me. She only stayed with me because of my career, money. Not because she loved me. I was stupid enough to only realize that when I was home more often due to my injury, forcing us to spend time together. I tried to make it work though, but Bethany broke the engagement off.’

‘Chris, she sounds like a terrible person,’ I say, fuming on the inside. Who would do something like that?

‘Yeah, she is,’ Chris smiles, but I see pain in his eyes. ‘I am relieved now on the other hand, that she is out of my life. And to be back here. I missed it here.’

‘We are glad you’re back here as well. It was different, without you, without Livia.’ It was lonely. 

I notice Chris starts limping a little bit. This walk might have been a bit too much for his knee ‘Maybe it’s time to head back?’ I suggest. I know if I said anything about his knee, and possible pain, he would just deny. 

‘Sure,’ he answers, telling me with one simple word I was right. 

We reach the crossway: left back to the town’s center, right to Honey Bee Farm. Chris leans in for a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around me. I hug him back, and it feels so good. Too good. 

We part, and both go our ways. 

I need to be careful, I can’t let Chris in my heart, it’ll just get broken. He’ll never be with me. I’ll be better off alone, as always. 

●・○・●・○・●

●・○・●・○・●

●・○・●・○・●

[autisdicksimmons]

Rvb character disabilities pt. 1

Going through the canon/my headcanoned disabilities of rvb characters, starting with Red Team. I may miss things, so please remind me if I do

Sarge

* Brain. Injury. At the very least from repeat concussions plus the time he was shot in the head

* HC— Hard of Hearing, unsure if from age or constant gunfire and explosions over the years

Simmons

* Literally had most if not all of his internal organs replaced with cybernetic equivalents

* Double amputee, again cyborg prosthetics but we see that they are not always reliable (he literally shot himself in the foot)

* HC— it isn’t confirmed that Simmons has a cyborg eye that I remember, but yes that

* Part of his brain is also robotic which is. Scary.

* Fax machine.

* I won’t be going into mental illnesses for the most part because that could honestly be another post entirely for Simmons alone, but his severe, unchecked anxiety disorder deserves an honorable mention

* HC— he has the most textbook autism ever. Of all time.

* HC— due to the severity of the surgery and Sarge’s incompetence, I believe Simmons is likely in some amount of chronic pain

* HC— Simmons mentions, angrily, that Grif doesn’t get headaches, which I am taking and giving him chronic migraines bc I have them too and no one can stop me

* HC— really really shitty vision, like, man is wearing bifocals in his early twenties type bad (helmets have gotta be able to be adjusted for vision, right???)

* HC— asthma. Bc I have it. And I can.

Grif

* Canonically (debatable, but still) has OCD

* Also a double amputee, but had the parts replaced with Simmons’s which, yikes, considering their canon (season 14 canon, anyway) height/body type differences

* HC/extrapolation off the last point— it’s highly likely that he has a moderate to severe difference in limb lengths, or that the Simmons side had to be MAJORLY fucked up which, ouch

* HC— also chronic pain based on that

* Most if not all of his current organs were received via Simmons transplant after being run over

* HC— again with the eyes, but I always draw/write him having a lazy eye w Simmons’s old eye, with it not seeing well and Sarge’s “skills”

* Had parts of his brain damaged enough by the tank that Sarge felt the need to replace them??? YIKES

* HC— Asthma bc Simmons had it and now he has his lungs lol

* HC— Hard of hearing, and honestly it’s amazing if all of them aren’t to some degree, actually

Donut

* Had half his face blown up. I take this to mean he is blind in one eye and fully Deaf in one ear, hard of hearing in the other, and some mild brain damage

* Had part of his hand CUT OFF when it got caught in the underside of a Warthog. I take this to mean that he’s missing most of his pinky, ring, and middle fingers on his right hand.

* HC— He’s almost died/actually died so many times but we don’t see any canon effects of this, at the very least he’s got some organ damage especially with the severe dehydration/heat exhaustion he’s suffered and being. You know. Shot point blank in the chest.

Lopez

* Decapitated. So many times

[anonymityisfunwriter]

🥇 Comment Hall of Fame 🥇

I really like when people comment. What better way to encourage interaction than by rewarding it? Here's a running list of some of my favorite comments, the ones that made me laugh, the ones that made me cry, the ones that kept me going. I love all the comments I get but these are just some of my faves from AO3, Tumblr, and Wattpad. You guys are all the best. 💛

"This series has the same equivalence to the mini episode cartoons like teen titans go but like BETTER I LOVE THIS SO MUCH" - @/thatboyisagunn · I remember watching the OG Teen Titans as a kid, so I really loved this comment. Plus, it sort of gave me the idea to do like one-shots as 'mini episodes'.

"“…morally ambiguous, sarcastic, charming brunette“ I know this is supposed to be referring to Flynn Rider, but it sounds an awful lot like Bucky to me. Loved this whole story! I was smiling the whole way through." - @/bookish_irish_dancer ·I laughed for an hour when this lovely commenter said this, because, yes, that is absolutely what I was going for.

"T Swizzle is a national treasure and I will fight to the death for her." @/aswiftlytiltinguniverse ·I will too. Okay, maybe not to the death, but I will post a lot of fics with TS references.

"I GODDAMN LOVE THIS SONG DUDE. THE ANGST, THE PAIN, THE CONFUSION AND GODDAMN JOHN I HATE YOU. BARNES I LOVE YOU AND SAMUEL YOU BIG BROTHER. I'm LOVING this Tay Swift-ness author." @toomanyfanficsbruh ·I like inciting John Walker hate. Especially all caps hate. This just made me laugh so hard tbh.

"Sis, as much as i love your stories and this story.. THIS WAS A PUNCH TO THE GUT, WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS *VIRTUALLY PUKES BECAUSE YEAH, I HAVE A FULL STOMACH RN* (but whatever i still love you uwu😊🤣😭🤗)" @/youraveragehotmessofabisexual ·The "why would you do something like this" really had me cheesy grinning like I know I just hurt my entire audience, but wasn't it fun?

"“LeTs NoT gEt EmOtIoNaL” my ass. I’m emotional. Let me emote 😭" @/BuckySimp101 ·This comment made me emote. And keep going with the GrumpyxSunshine series after Two Sides of The Same Coin.

"I challenge you to a duel anonymityisfun. You hear me duel, I hope you have a blood donner cos you're gonna need it ( I'm hating where this is going but loving your update speed. Keep it up )( side note I moved to mars so you're going to have to come here for out duel. )" @i-wanna-burn-the-world ·I can say with absolute certainty that I'd never been challenged to a duel before this comment. It's happened a few times since then to be honest.

"THIS MADE ME CRY AND I DONT MEAN JUST TEARED UP I MEAN I FUCKING CRIED MAN" @/Jwritesstuff ·If you couldn't tell, I really love comments that yell at me about what I made people feel. I love it.

"WHY WHY DO YOU HAVE TO DO THIS TO US IM LITERALLY CRYING RIGHT NOW WHY OH GOD WHY ARE THEY TREATING HER LIKE HOW HYDRA TREATED WINTER SOLDIER 😭😭😭 THEY DONT EVEN LET HER TAKE HER BELONGINGS ITS LIKE SHES NOT EVEN HUMAN THE WAY THEYRE TREATING HER OH GOD YOU'RE PAYING MY THERAPY 😭😭😭😭 THE TITLE ITSELF GOT ME HOLDING MY SEAT LIKE WDYM LAST KISS" @/Marquiserose ·This comment always makes me cheesy grin. I love the enthusiasm.

"SAM YOU BITCH! YOU CANT JUST LEAVE US! RULE NUMBER ONE!!!" @/any_ways ·Now, you guys didn't know what I knew, but the visceral reaction everyone had to Sam at the end of Two Sides of The Same Coin was *chef's kiss*

"When I gave this story my heart it was under the impression that you wouldn’t tear it out of my chest and stomp on it" @/HopeMAnd21 ·I know it sounds silly, but I like knowing that I can make people feel things. That the words I write can actually impact a person warms my little heart.

"I always have no feedback, criticism or words, but…I once again am lost. This whole this has twist and turns, one right after the other. I really don’t know what to say. This should be a mini book that I can hold in my hands and it has that little penguin on the spine, and anonymityisfun written under the title. I’m going to cherish this. When I’m bored and want twists and turns and sorrow, this is what I’ll read. You should be very proud!" @/any_ways ·Listen, I am, by no stretch of the imagination, a crier, but this comment made me cry. Being published, being able to call myself an author, even the idea of ever getting to put something out into the world, it's been my dream since I was a kid. Ugh, it just made my heart swell.

"you really did take all these characters and made them your own. from all the fanfictions i've read, your version of marvel characters are by far my favourite. i also feel very happy seeing this full circle moment because i still remember very vividly how sad i felt when i read how alone sunshine was. thank you for this series and i hope this is not the end!!" @/khirtelt ·This felt so important because, while legally I own very little rights to these characters, they do very much feel like my characters and my stories. They all have little pieces of me, both good and bad, and I'm very proud of the work I've put into these stories.

"110% babygirlification of Bucky Barnes" @/thesweetestheart ·I do not mind being attributed to the continued babygirlification of Bucky Barnes. It's now my life goal.

"I was thinking of you when the Taylor swift album dropped I HOPE U LOVED IT 🕺🏾🕺🏾🕺🏾 Also another Drabble masterpiece as PER USUAL" @buckbuckyoongs ·When you think Taylor Swift, I hope you think of me.

"I need a friend that loves me as much as Sam and Sunny love each other... AHEM, I SAID I NEED A FRIEND THAT LOVES ME AS MUCH AS SAM AND SUNNY LOVE EACH OTHER. please? (Now I just sit and wait until someone starts talking to me... I'm gonna be here for a while.)" @i-wanna-burn-the-world ·We all need a friendship like Sam and Sunshine.

"i ADORE THIS. I LOVE ITI WOUL KILL AND DIE FOR THIS. YOURE AMAZING AND I APRECIATE YOU POSTING YOUR WRITING, SO MUCH. I LITERALLY WIND DOWN AT NIGHT WITH YOUR STORIES-" @/ValerieQ "TYSM💜 AND OFC YOURE LITERALLY A GODDESS I DONT THINK YOU UNDERSTAND-" @/ValerieQ ·This was all one comment thread and when I tell you, I was having a rough go of it, I needed this. You all hype me up so much, but this comment just made my heart melt. I'm so glad that my silly little stories are a place you guys can go to unwind and hang out. I love that so much.

"another beautiful work from @/anonymityisfunwriter and i can’t tell if i love or resent them for the pain they put me through. every. time." @mediocre-daydreams ·I wonder if they decided if they love me or they resent me yet. Either way, I'm glad I make you guys feel all the feelings. It's my goal.

"Binged the shit out of this and fell in love. I cried, I weeped, my heart swelled with so much love for these two. Honestly this series felt like a hot bowl of homemade soup on a cold day." @kjdara ·"A hot bowl of homemade soup on a cold day" Please, the way that made me choke up. One of the best, sweetest comments I've ever gotten.

"I found the sound on TT literally just scrolling through and screamed "Bucky don't leave her! She's your sunshine"... Needless to say I have a meeting with the boss man about time theft" @/MandaRinne ·The time theft part made me laugh, and also worry, but I'll take it as a good thing you guys think of the Grumpy x Sunshine series while scrolling TikTok.

"I'm glad they made up and love love the twist at the end. Because it truly signifies that sunshine is a fighter. And I love sunshine and I try to strive towards adopting the better parts of her personality into mine everyday. Fr." @/youraveragehotmessofabisexual -This, and I'm not even exaggerating, left me a little speechless. It will never not blow my mind that anyone actually cares about anything I've written.

I'll be adding to this every now and then. I just wanted to do this to show my appreciation to everyone who's supported me, it's the greatest feeling in the world. If you're here, if you've ever left comment, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, I love you all so much. 💛

And please, take this as a sign to show support to other amazing creators and authors, comments, reblogs, kudos, it makes a world of a difference. 💛

And, if for whatever reason, you're on this list and don't want to be, just let me know and I'll take it down. 💛

[themetaphorgirl]

psolc gang watching st4 🙌

OH MAN I got up early to bingewatch it yesterday and now I am in my FEELS

(mildly spoilery??)

----------

"It's too early," Dave grumbled, running his hand through his sleep mussed hair. "It's way too fucking early for this."

"Well, you didn't have to come," James said.

Dave shot him a dirty look as he stretched out on the couch. "It's literally my house, Blake," he said. "You guys invited yourselves over."

"Well, there isn't enough room at my house for everybody," James shrugged.

"Besides, you have a whole fucking movie theater in your basement," Derek said. "This makes sense."

"You could have just watched it in the common room at Lincoln," Dave said.

"And deal with everyone sharing spoilers immediately? No, thank you," Penelope said. She settled into a corner of the sectional, making room for herself. "Plus we don't have to worry about everybody walking in and out."

"Seven in the morning was still pretty early to start this thing, right?" Aaron yawned, slouching down with his arms crossed over his chest. "We could have waited later."

"The new episodes dropped at three am, you should just feel lucky we didn't start then," JJ said.

Emily and Alex walked in with multiple coffee cups balanced in their hands; James swept in to take two of them from his girlfriend. "Dave, your mom's coffee machine is way too complicated," Alex said. "I think we figured it out. Okay, the blue mug is for Aaron, the red one is for Penelope, the Rossi Realty mug is for Derek-"

"Which one is for me?" Spencer asked eagerly. Emily handed him a purple plastic cup with a lid and a straw and he scowled. "I wanted coffee like everybody else."

"It's an iced mocha," Emily said. "Mostly chocolate milk with like, a little coffee." He brightened.

"Okay, can we start now or what?" Penelope said. "I'm dying!"

"Oh, you mean like Eddie is about to?" Derek said.

Penelope swatted him with a pillow. "He's not going to die!" she said.

"They keep doing this," James reminded her. "They keep introducing new characters at the beginning of a season and then kill them off by the end. Remember Bob?"

"They haven't killed off Max," Penelope protested. "Or Robin."

"They better not kill Robin, she's my favorite character," Emily said. "Besides, they wouldn't kill Max after they almost killed her in the first half of season four."

"I think Jonathan is going to die, so Steve and Nancy can get back together without it being weird," Alex said as she sat down on the couch between Aaron and James. "Team Steve."

"Team Jonathan," JJ said.

Penelope threw a pillow at her. "Team Steve!" she said.

"I think Eleven is going to die," Dave said. "Just to really fuck with us."

"They said there were five deaths total, that's a lot of people who could die," Alex said. "But does that include side characters?" She took a sip of her coffee as James wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I just hope that Jason dies."

"Oh, see, that we can agree on," Penelope said.

Derek waved the remote around. "So can we start it or what?" he said.

[shojimezolovemail]

to lay beside you (and have you in my arms)

A/N: most of my daryl dixon one shots were originally written with intention for a friend but, i can’t deprive the world of him :P also, no beta’d bc i’m tired

prompt: daryl gets sick and you care for him, plain & simple - gender neutral reader!

warnings: sickness overall, mentions of throwing up, reader mentioned to have gotten drunk in the past, allusions to sexual intimacy but blink and it might be missed

Daryl never was a man to take a break but when he did, it was usually not by his own choice. This time when he had even taken a moment to stop, he ended up sick and cooped up in bed.

That’s not to say he was necessarily having a bad time, he just hates to not be doing something productive. And you made sure he didn’t lift a single finger while confined from the world.

“Babe, you’re gonna have to let me up eventually,” he huffed as you appeared into his field of vision with a dish of food and glass of what looked like sweet tea. He could get behind a little sweet treat.

“Oh my dear Daryl, let me enjoy coddling you, hm? You never sit still long enough when you’re not sick. I have to soak this in as much as I can,” you laughed and waited for him to scoot to sit up.

He huffed again and rested against the headboard, the action making his head soon and muscles ache. A dull groan rose from his throat as you moved closer, a small food out tray coming to rest above his lap.

Daryl laughed for the first time in a few days, “Now what have you out in me here? Cant trust me to feed myself with a spill?” he nudged your arm a little and grinned.

You rolled your eyes and picked up the fork to his to be revealed homemade stir fry, zooming it up to his lips. “Well since you’ve given the idea that you can’t, I guess it is ‘cause you’ll spill it,” your lips read a devilish smile but eyes not meeting the same, only a gesture of love.

He accepted the forks full of food as you began speaking about what and why you cooked it. “So yeah, I made the stir fry because while there is seasoning and some rich flavored veggies, nothing should upset your stomach. I also brought you sweet tea as a little treat but, I’m not giving you a whole bunch because I don’t want you to get fuckin’ sugar high then puke on the carpet,” just bringing up the idea made you lean away form Daryl.

He wasn’t even the one who threw up on the carpet, it was you after drinking his spiked version of the sweet tea. Poor you drank an entire liter in the span of a few hours and ended up snuggling the old carpet in the hallway.

“Plus, I can only feed you so many popsicles before you turn into one,” you sighed and held the glass up to his lips. He tried not to laugh at the tone of your words, such a serious tone for a statement one would say to a child.

Once he was through enough of the stir fry to satisfy you, moving the tray to sit on your bedside table and paused for a moment.

Daryl paused as well, tilting his head a little at you and looking over his features.

“Something wrong?”

You didn’t speak, just pressed a hand to his forehead and waited a moment. “You’re not burning up! I think your fever broke,” you smiled and clapped to yourself.

“All thanks to your great work, my nurse,” he smiled and shifted to lay back under the covers.

“I bet you wish I’d play nurse with you, huh?” you rolled your eyes and slipped under the blankets with him, “even in sickness, you’re ever the charming type.”

“Just for you, my darlin’.” Daryl’s head found itself resting in your chest and let out a sigh he didn’t even know he was holding in.

You moved some of his hair back from his forehead and pressed a sweet kiss to it, warmth spreading through the two.

“You’re too good to me, ya know that? Dunno what I’d do without ya…” he murmured and if the world didn’t feel so quiet, you might not have heard him.

“It’s because you deserve all my love and more, my sweetheart.”

Daryl was quiet, he never knew how to respond to such declarations of love so, he just squeezed you closer. His eyes dropped and he felt another kiss splay out on his head.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

CONGRATULATIONS LOU!! You deserve every like and follow. Congrats on 1,000!! 🥳 expect two requests from :)

Here’s my first request loves.

Plus-size read x Loki And Bucky/ Sugar Daddy AU 😉

Prompt 38 & 6 and trope 10 please:)

Once again congratulations Lou! 💋✨

Money Can't Buy Everything

Sugar Daddy!Loki x single mom!reader x Sugar Daddy!Bucky

Loki x plus size reader x Bucky

With one missed call, the whole world shifts

Warnings: references to teen pregnancy, age-gap (21 and mid to late 30s), sugar daddy/baby relationship, implied past BDSM, parental abandonment, little bit of angst, idiots in love

A/N: @lokiandbuckysdoll I love you so much!!!!!!!

WC: 2.4k

Minors DNI

6: “I want to have her babies.” 38: “I’m scared I can’t give you everything you want, everything you deserve.” 10: Single parent 6: Sugar daddy!au

1000 Follower Celebration

She hadn’t texted today. And considering that in her rules, she was required to contact them at least once a day, it was certainly strange. 

Bucky stepped into his partner’s office, still staring down at her contact name on his phone. “Everybody out.” He barked, sending the occupants scrambling to leave, none of them keen on incurring Bucky’s well known wrath. Loki sighed, dropping the butterfly knife he was playing with onto his marble desk.

“Is there a reason you decided to interrupt my meeting, Barnes?” His green eyes narrowed at the bulky man who dropped into the black leather chair in front of him. He thrust his phone at Loki as he huffed and crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “Angel hasn’t called today.” 

Loki hummed, taking the device and scrolling through their recent texts. “She has been quite busy with work lately.” Bucky’s dark eyebrows shot up. “We pay for literally everything for her. She shouldn’t be working, especially if it interferes with our agreement.” He hummed but didn’t say anything in response, just glancing at the scantily clad photo of her Bucky had been sent last night.

“It could be that you kept her up late.” He insinuated, handing the phone back. A faint pink blush spread across Bucky’s cheeks but he quickly covered it up with a cough. “We’ve both pulled all-nighters with her and she was still contacting us the day after. Besides, it was one little photo, nothing else.”

He crossed his legs, leaning back in the chair, looking at the photo of her. She was wearing the red lingerie they had bought for her last week, the lace beautifully criss-crossing her thick curves, leaving her tits exposed, the crotchless panties showing her dripping folds. Bucky licked his lips before locking his phone so he wouldn’t get too distracted from the task at hand.

The agreement had been made a year ago when the two heads of Sword Inc., the most successful stock brokers on the East Coast, quickly becoming the most powerful in the country. The two men bumped into the young art major at a gallery opening and were enamoured by her innocent beauty and intelligence. It just made sense.

They wanted someone to spoil beyond belief and she needed the money, and a little bit of attention from two of the most attractive and incredibly sought after bachelors. They gave her everything she could ever dream of, and all they asked in return was honesty, consistent communication, no catching feelings, and an open mind.

A very open mind at that, considering they were two men approaching their forties with sexual frustration coming out the wazzu. But she always followed their instructions, gave them what they wanted.

But now, she had dropped off the radar, her location turned off, no updates to her instagram story. Nothing. And Bucky was starting to get worried. 

“Have you considered it might be her time of the month?” Bucky rolled his blue eyes. “Yeah right, she always texts when she’s riding the red wave. Besides, she’s been busy a lot recently, she could be trying to pull away.” Loki sighed, rubbing his temples, his long black hair falling from the elaborate braids he liked to tie it in. The day was stressful already without his partner disrupting his carefully planned schedule.

Bucky loosened his navy tie, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. “Well you can do what you want, but I’m going to check on her.” “You just want to get laid, Barnes.” He dismissed, turning back to the mountain of paperwork his secretary had dropped off this morning. 

“Well that too but come on, she’s never broken a rule before, she could be seriously hurt.” Loki opened his mouth to respond but Bucky beat him to the punch. “If she isn’t hurt and is just being a brat, you know what we can do.” Images of their angel tied up with a vibrator strapped to her clit as they tortured her with pleasure flashed behind the man’s eyes, his black slacks getting tighter at the thought. 

“Fine but I’m holding you responsible if any of these deals I’m missing today fall through.” Bucky smirked victoriously.

——————

The kettle was screaming but the woman paid it no mind as she rushed through her small apartment, picking up the mess as she went, trying hard to get as much done as possible while she had the chance. Wearing just a hugely oversized shirt which she stole from Bucky and some biker shorts, she was hardly the picture of sensuality. But she didn’t care how she looked right now, there were bigger things at hand.

She pulled the kettle from the stove, wincing as the steam bellowing from the spout burnt her hand. “Fuck.” She was already so close to tears, having stayed up the entire night, not getting a wink of sleep, as well as receiving a failing grade on a project she had spent months on, and the stress of an upcoming gala Loki and Bucky wanted her to go to next weekend had frayed her nerves.

Fat tears dripped down her cheeks as she collapsed on the couch that also doubled as her bed. Maybe she should break it off with them. Admittedly, they were the most fun she had ever had. They were attentive and sweet and could fuck her like there was no tomorrow. But the stress of being in a ‘relationship’ with them was becoming too much, especially when she had so much already on her plate.

Just as her breathing started picking up, panic truly settled over her chest like an elephant slowly putting pressure on her lungs, there was a firm knock at the door. Quickly standing, she straightened out her stained shirt, trying to at least appear somewhat put together. Another knock urged her on quicker.

“Coming!” She called out, stepping over the pile of laundry she had yet to deal with, her bare feet thumping on the hardwood floor. The woman unchained the lock and swiftly swung the door open, only to be greeted by the two men who she really didn’t want to see in this state. They looked down on her, concern immediately colouring their features.

“B-bucky, Loki! What are you two doing here?” She unconsciously stepped between them and the apartment, blocking their view. “You didn’t call today angel.” Loki stepped forward, forcing her to move one step back. “We were worried.” Bucky continued, stepping around her to enter the small space.

He observed the cheap apartment with disdain, obviously disgusted by the state of it considering how much money they gave her every month. Loki, instead, took their angel in his arms, cupping her plump cheek, thumb rubbing the dark circles under her eyes. “Are you alright angel? You don’t look well.” Attempting to look away, she swallowed the lump in her throat, tears threatening to escape once more.

“Y-yeah.” She cleared her thrust. “Sorry I didn’t call, I’ve just been really busy.” Turning out of his grip, she walked towards Bucky trying to prevent him from going further in. He eyed the couch, where a pile of blankets and a pillow lay, as well as an old cup of tea on the floor beside it. 

They looked so out of place here. In suits more expensive than the apartment and everything in it, they stood out. They didn’t belong here. Her heart clenched in her chest as Bucky looked at her, clearly not convinced by her words. “Right. So you know that you’ve broken one of our rules. And that means…” He trailed off, letting the young woman fill in the blank.

She lowered her head in submission, avoiding both pairs of blue eyes. “I get punished. But!” Loki tssked, gripped her jaw in his long fingers, shutting her up. “No buts love, you know exactly what you signed up for when we made the rules. And since you are clearly alive and otherwise free, considering your state of dress. You should have called us.” She whimpered and tried to pull away but suddenly, Bucky was at her back, holding her in place.

His nose traced up her throat, sending a shiver down her spine. “Now, whatever shall we do with our little rule breaker? Oh I know-“

“Mama!” A little voice called out from the bedroom, a fit of coughs quickly following. She broke out of their embrace and scrambled into the back room, throwing open the door and disappearing behind it. The two powerful men glanced at each other, holding a silent conversation with their eyes before quickly following.

Their angel pulled a little bundle of blankets from the small bed, bringing it to her chest as she gently swayed, shushing as more whimpers rose from it. “You’re ok, bear. It’s alright. Mummy’s here.” She cooed, pulling back the blue blanket from their head. The toddler’s usual babysitter, the old woman across the hall, had gone home to visit her own children so she was on her own.

“You have a kid?” It was Bucky that spoke first, Loki was too entranced by the sight before him. She held the toddler close, eyes sad as they coughed once more, their little lungs straining. She ignored them, instead focusing all her attention on the child who looked so much like her, even down to the smallest of details. 

The room was littered with expensive toys and high brand baby items. It was obvious now, where all their money went. Bucky kneeled and picked up a little stuffed rabbit that he had won for her on Coney Island during one of their dates. It was well loved, one of the eyes missing and an ear hanging on by a thread. He smiled fondly at it, standing back up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell either of you.” She muttered quietly, still urging the child back to sleep. “I couldn’t afford for her to get hurt. I wanted to but then I- I started catching feelings and I’m scared I can’t give you everything you want, everything you deserve.” Her voice was shaky and close to breaking. Bucky approached her, gently placing the rabbit in the little girl’s grasp as she reached from the blanket, getting a contented squeak in reply.

Loki’s arm wrapped around her thick waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, staring down at the beautiful child in her arms. “You don’t need to apologise angel. We understand. Your first priority was your baby. I just wish we could have helped you out more.” He planted a kiss on the juncture between her neck and shoulder. 

The baby fussed once more before little snores escaped her lips and her mother moved to tuck her back into the bed, laying a small kiss to her overheated forehead. “Come one, she needs her rest.”

She led them back to the living room. “Would you like a cup of tea?” Bucky cupped her wide hip. “Go sit down, doll, I can take care of that.” Loki took her arm, bringing her onto his lap as he sat on the couch. He hugged her close with a firm grip so she couldn’t escape. “Now, why don’t we start with her name, that seems a good place to begin.”

His angel wiggled in his lap, trying to get comfy as Bucky poured three cups of tea. “Orsa.” A beautiful smile overcame Loki’s features. “A wonderful name. And how old is she?” The girl relaxed, happy to finally talk about her daughter to the men she loved. “She’s turning three in a month.”

Bucky sat on the small coffee table, the wood creaking under his weight, and handing over two of the mugs, taking a sip from his own. “And the father?” She waved him off. “You don’t need to worry about him. High school boyfriend that split as soon as he found out.” He nodded. 

“And what’s this nonsense about what we deserve?” He growled, making her shrink in on herself and bashfully hide behind her cup. “I don’t think you’d want to deal with a single mom who lied about practically everything in order to become a sugar baby to get money to feed her kid and pay for college.”

Loki sighed, letting his head fall onto her back, trying and failing to disguise his laughs. “And what did you lie about my sweet?” Bucky placed his metal hand on her knee, encouraging her. “I have a kid?” “And…” He prompted.

“And…” She echoed, pausing, thinking. “So you aren’t a 21 year old art student from a small town in the Midwest who wants to be a teacher?” Loki teased, voice light and full of humour. “I-“ “We don’t care that you’re a mom, we love you all the same. Maybe a bit more now cause that kid is so darn cute.”

She beamed. “You love me?” Leaning forward, the blue eyed man cupped her cheek gently, pecking her slightly chapped lips. “More than anything.” He whispered against them, pulling away so Loki could do the same. The woman settled against her beau once more sipping from her cup. Bucky made a surprisingly good cup of tea.

“So, I’m guessing that’s why you have been busy.” She nodded. “Orsa’s been sick the past couple days and I’ve been struggling with her and college.” “Ok, so let us help you, I’m sure we are capable enough to take care of both of you. And then, once Orsa is better, you’re moving in with us so we can keep a better eye on you.” Bucky winked.

She tried to object but Loki cut her off. “No arguing angel. Now, how about you sleep for a while and when you wake up, everything will be taken care of.” Slumping against the lean man, she allowed her eyes to flutter shut, not having the energy to tell these men no. She’ll put up more of a fight later.

Once she was fully asleep, Loki lounged on the couch, stretching his long legs so that the young woman could rest on his chest, soothed by the sound of his heart. He gazed lovingly down at her, giving a kiss to the crown of her head, laying a hand on her back to keep her in place.

“So, I guess the no catching feelings rule is done for.” Bucky chuckled, picking up her discarded cup to put it down beside him. “I don’t think that rule would’ve ever stayed.” “You’re not wrong there.” He glanced at her once more. “I want to have her babies.” 

Loki rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ. One step at a time.” “Yeah, you’re right, we have to get married first.” Loki sighed. “I should’ve stayed at work.”

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Taglist

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

@maevetriesart

[dimepdf]

LEAVE THE DOOR OPEN. — ANDREW!PETER PARKER

summary | When it came to you, Peter couldn't hide his horny excitement.

pairing: peter parker x male!reader

genre: smut, barely any plot

length: 1.3k words

cw: no nwh spoilers, male reader, he’s insecure be nice, you can’t convince me he isn’t the type to do finger guns after sex, himbo Peter

song(s) to listen to: Leave the door open by Bruno Mars, Anderson Paak, Silk Sonic 

a/n | I am milking all I can get from the andrew!peter tag rn, someone please help me get this man out of my mind he is moving in free of rent as we speak. Please I saw someone mention how he was the horniest spiderman and went “…yes.”

masterlist. / taglist. / any request?

MINORS DNI 

what you doing? where you at? Oh, you got plans? Don’t say that.

“do you want to come over later?” 

It was the text message from you that was enough to leave Peter written with anxiety for his entire class period.

the man was fidgeting with whatever he could get his hands on that hour.

to be fair, you never really had to give permission for Peter to come over during the three years you two had known each other and the year you put a label on your relationship.

It was obvious what the meaning was behind the message; you wanted him to come…over.

this is related to the conversation you two had yesterday about each other's boundaries and needs.

(He honestly thought you were going to end your relationship with him because you were using your series black mom voice with him.)

BUT ONLY BECAUSE IT IS VERY IMPORTANT TO TALK WITH YOUR PARTNERS ABOUT BOUNDARIES AND TO BE CLEAR ON WHAT IS YOURS.

plus, as his first boyfriend, you understood that he's a little shy with his affection, but you can bet that if he wants a kiss, he'll literally walk across campus to get it.

after class, the boy couldn't stop himself from sprinting towards your next hour, memorizing your schedule by heart.

pulls you aside and apologizes and makes excuses for things he wasn't even sure he did.

you were just like “…Peter I just want to have sex with you.” 

…

“Oh cool, uh I accept, thanks!”

My house clean, my pool warm, just shaved. 

you didn't say anything about how excited you were to finally get into your adorable boyfriend’s pants.

YOU CLEANED YOUR APARTMENT FOR THIS HELLO?

you've tried before to get past the making-out stage.

as you two locked lips, things got hot and heavy, with Peter leaning over on top of you.

your hand trailing down his bare stomach, almost touching the elastic of his underwear

Peter moaned at the new sensation that shot through his entire body when you thrust your hips up to rub against his.

it made Peter’s mind instantly go blank 

he realized shortly after that he…finished in his pants.

okay, he's really touched deprived. but you promised never to make fun of him or bring it up again.

I ain’t playing no games, every word that I say is coming straight from the heart, so if you tryna lay in these arms

when you swung open your apartment door, he was literally shaking.

“You okay there Spiderboy?”

“Yeah? what? why would I not be okay…I need to use the bathroom” 

you tried not to laugh as you watched him stumble away to your restroom, his jeans showing the most obvious boner.

you took it slowly for Peter's sake, knowing that his mind was probably racing.

deciding that it would be more comfortable and less stressful for him if you just did what you two always did when he came over to hang out: order takeout and cuddle while watching shitty comedy movies on Netflix

I’ma leave the door open, hoping that you feel the way I feel and you want me like I want you tonight

Peter was far from comfortable.

you didn't notice how he shifted as you snuggled closer to his side, or how he exhaled as you placed your hand against his lap.

he was too preoccupied with pretending he wasn't freaking out to actually stop himself from freaking out.

kissed you literally the moment you tilted your head up to look at him from his chest.

like you had to blink before processing that he was now making out with you.

It was as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders the moment you started kissing back and reaching your hand into his hair.

as you leaned back against the couch, he took over the kiss by welcoming his tongue into your mouth and following you with his mouth on yours.

his hand quickly wrapped around your waist to relieve the vexing need that was pressing against his jeans.

his other hand is above your head, supporting himself.

he backed away from the kiss and chuckled nervously before biting his lip and looking down.

“Is it okay if I take my pants off?”

you and Peter were now pantless on your couch in record time.

It only made him dizzier seeing you fumbling with his zip with such concentration written on your face.

I need you, baby. I gotta see you, baby. Girl, I’m tryna give this…

as Peter whimpered against your mouth, the kissing became a little sloppy.

grinding his cock against yours, the only thing keeping you apart was each other's boxers.

did I mention that he was touch-deprived yet? because the sensation of your hands lingering on his back was driving him insane.

I have a feeling he would be the type to moan over the smallest of things.

you pull away to kiss down his neck: he whines.

tilting your hips against his when he pulls away: he whines.

wrapping your hands in his hair and tugging it: good job you broke him.

“Can i?”

“God please touch me.”

was enough for you to completely take control over the whimpering white man.

as you sat on his lap, you pushed him back and straddled his hips.

getting a clear view of how smitten you’ve made him from your touch. 

placing a hand against his rapidly rising chest, feeling how hard his heart was beating against his chest, his pink lips slightly swollen, his hair all over the place from having your fingers tangled in it.

“Uh did you bring a condom?” 

“Oh…I forgot”

having to spend the next 20 minutes painfully slipping back into his jeans and speed walking to the corner store as if he didn't have the hardest fucking boner in his life

“Okay where were we”

“Ow Peter don’t grab it like that”

I’ma leave the door open, and I’m hoping that you feel the way I feel 

It didn't take long for you two to return to your previous state.

as you coaxed yourself down on Peter's length, his hands gripped your waist.

the farther he was inside of you, the more Peter felt like he was going to fucking die, his head tilted back, mouth gaping, and eyes squeezed so tight he was starting to see stars.

got him holding onto you like his LIFE depended on it.

when you bottomed out he let out a small sigh and twitched. 

you have to realize this man has inhuman strength; he is holding back so much so that he doesn’t think with his dick and can take you at whatever pace he pleases.

because he is a gentleman and wants the moment to be memorable :)

lets you set the pace.

you were certain he'd leave bruises from how tight he was clutching your waist as you bounced on his lap.

you do get choked up at some point, and Peter takes advantage of the pause to thrust into you.

lifting you up as if you were nothing and treating you like his personal fuck doll.

when you finished on his chest, he had the proudest fucking smile on his face.

“That was really hot baby :D”

about that inhuman strength 

when he's close, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close as he whimpers into your chest, pulling you into the most bone-crushing hug imaginable.

is the type to accidentally overstimulate himself and starts CRYING 

“You want to take a break, honey?”

the aftercare you have to give this man is extra; you literally have to limp to the bathroom and clean each other up before slipping into bed with him by your side and letting him be the little spoon, telling him how good it felt, complimenting him on everything.

Peter is the type to overthink things right away, and he constantly believes he isn't good enough. Please, even if he appears annoyed, I swear inside he's a big baby who loves to be praised.

Tell me that you’re coming through.

notes: Is anyone else scrolling through the Andrew Garfield tag like it’s a daily routine or is that just me? Marvel needs to drop a new movie or series so I can have another obsession please, the Hawkeye series gave me nothing but hot Yelena scenes and pretty Kate Bishop. I am on a short leash at the moment give me another hot male character Marvel I am on my knees.

- taglist: @tsukishimawhore  @meowkinq @denkisdurag @lolalora​ @thatbaepizzalover @​louderfortheback @cxnismajcr​ 

[chososheart]

Can you please do mean stoner brat tamer Eren x popular brat bully reader?

this took so long, hope you don’t mind :))

-

She’s Clueless! - Eren x Reader

(one shot)

Pairing: Eren Yeager x F! Reader

Content: college au!, unestablished relationship, bimbo! mean girl! reader, stoner! loner! eren, enemies to lovers ig

CW: NSFW, smut, dub-con (both characters involved are sober, consenting adults. I’m adding it cus a safe word isn’t used, plus they’re kinda strangers) vaginal fingering, oral sex (m), and (f) gagging, dacryfilia, penetration (f), spanking, degradation kink, humiliation kink, creampie, slight bimbofication, slight impact play, semi-public sex.

word count: 4.4k

my masterlist | navigation

The sun shined as if it was still early in the morning, though it was some time after 2:00 PM.

You walked through the semi indoor hallways of your college campus. Your heels, 'click' and 'clack' under you as you inhale the earthy, fresh air from the trees and bushes nearby.

With each step you take, you give small waves and smiles to the people who passed by, some of them would even stop you to say their 'hello’s'. Which you don’t mind, I mean, more time away from class and people around you would instantly put you on a pedestal. It’s a win, win, right?

Yes and no. Most times it is, but today? Nope. Not one of those days.

Everything was going fine, you made small talk with a girl in one of the classes you hardly attend. You stirred the cup in your hand, making the coffee in it, swirl like a tornado. You pretended to give a shit about what she did last Sunday and—wait—how does this concern you?

You kept nodding at her, trying your best to make it seem like you care, but your head was completely empty. Thinking about nothing more than getting out of there. Even class might seem more interesting than this.

Ding, Ding, Ding

thank god

You opened your handbag and scavenged through it. You held your phone against your chest while giving her your best apologetic eyes, slowly backing away from her. “I’m so sorry, I have to take this. Talk to me later, yeah?”

“Oh.” Her eyes are a bit wide from your interruption. They soften when she sees you clutch your phone. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it!”

“Thank you.” You smile at her and give her shoulder a light squeeze as you walk straight past her.

You look down at your phone to see who was the glorious being who literally saved you from that walking radio but right as you were unlocking your phone, your eyes widen from feeling it slip from your fingertips and smash onto the floor. But that wasn't the worst part. You let a high-pitched scream, escape when you feel a cold, sticky substance splash against you.

You touch the drenched fabric that stuck to your chest and looked at whoever bumped—lowkey smashed—into you.

Eren Yeager.

You’re fuming. Of course, this washed-up, wanna-be, stoner ruined your clothes. He probably did it on purpose too!

And what makes it worse, is that he’s just standing there! No ‘oh, so sorry for ruining your day’ or anything. He just stood there. Annoyingly, cold expression on his face—as always btw— with his hands tucked in his jeans, and his oversized, layered flannel under that stupid vintage jacket he always wears. His hair, thrown in a messy man-bun, and his neck, covered in necklaces.

He’s a weirdo, a loser. No shit he’s always alone when this is how he reacts to potentially giving you 3rd-degree burns had your coffee been hot today.

“Fucking idiot! Look at what you did!” You pinch the fabric of your ruined top and show the brown stain he’s made.

He, again, did nothing. He just stared at you with those annoyingly perfect green eyes of his, silently asking, ‘are you done?’.

“Ugh!” You stomp your foot against the ground. “You’re paying for this shit.”

To that, he laughed. “What? Daddy’s little business not doing well? Can't buy yourself another mediocre shirt?”

You gasp. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you ne-” You whip your head in the direction of the steps that were approaching you.

A few students had heard the commotion and were now walking up to you and Eren; probably to check up on how you were, of course.

When you look back Eren, you’re a new person. No, literally. You flash him your best smile. “Oh, this?” You look down at your shirt. “It’s fine, thank you for your concern! I’ll just buy a new one, it’s no biggie.”

Your new persona has Eren livid. This isn’t the first time you’ve done this, actually, this is the exact reason why he can’t stand you.

You’re always like this. Whispering shit about him whenever you thought he wasn’t watching, or when you were sure he was. But when you were forced to talk to him, you’re suddenly an angel sent from above. And you’re not only like this to him, no, to everyone.

But he’s different. He can see past your two-faced persona and see the cold, shiny plastic you are. And that’s what you hated about him. Sure, that, and the way he behaves in general. He’s just…weird.

He has let this shitty behavior of yours slip, way too many times now. Enough is enough.

“No, really. I insist. Let me help you.” And before you could respond, he’s taking hold of your wrist and yanking you in the first door he could see, which was the janitor’s closet.

Yay!

“What do you think you’re doing!” You squealed after he pulled you in the closet.

He turned around and locked the door. When he looked at you, he had that same look in his eyes.

“You’re paying for this shit!” With a confident stride running through you, you take a step closer to him and slap that glare off his face.

As his face practically flew to the other side of the room, everything about him changed. His eyes, which were disinterested at first, were now widened and irritated. His right cheek was a stinging, red mess. And his entire aura had changed.

Because now you feel like maybe you crossed a line. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that, I mean, was it really necessary?

You take a step back once he straightens out his face and looks at you. You felt small under his gaze. With each step backward you took, he took one forward. Like he was some sort of wild animal you had accidentally come across and you’re trying to defuse the situation by calmly walking away from it.

But it isn’t working. Have your widened, doe eyes not shown that it was a simple mistake? That you don’t genuinely hate him, for him to have this attitude towards you?

You had expected him to be some sort of masochist and eventually throw you a smirk. You never thought he would take it this seriously.

And with your last step backward, you feel a cold, harsh surface on your trembling skin. You gasp at the realization that you have nowhere else to go.

Once he stood in front of you, you raised a hand to slap him out of instinct. Eren took a step back and dodged it. He grabbed that hand by the wrist and held it above your head. Through your other hand is still free, you know better than pissing him off more.

His face was centimeters away from yours when he spoke his first words. “What were you saying?” He looked so deeply into your frightened eyes, you felt caged in his gaze. Wanting to get out, you calm your nerves by taking a deep breath—so deep—it raises your chest as your lungs get filled with the cold air of the room.

Eren looked down at what had rubbed against his chest and when he saw what it was, his eyes widened as a breath of his scaped through his parted lips.

Only now has Eren noticed that the spilled coffee on your white shirt has made it completely transparent. He could see everything. Your plush breasts, squeezed together by a black, lace bra as clear as day.

He snapped out of it and looked at you. “You’re shallow.”

He continued staring into your confused eyes until he broke eye contact when his eyes betrayed him by falling on your breasts again.

When his consciousness caught up to where his eyes laid, he shut them with a hard swallow. “And manipulative.”

He looked again.

And with that third look, you understood what was happening. You have the upper hand. As hard as he tries to make it seem like he’s in control, your pure existence says otherwise.

“Oh, yeah?” you whisper out, head leaning to the side and eyes locked on his glazed lips.

“Yeah.” He breathed out.

You take a deep breath and through your exhale you boldly stick your chest out. Your lower back curves as your chest was joined with his again.

He groaned when he felt your breasts squish in between your body and his. It was all he could look at.

When you see that your body took the words out of his mouth, you laugh. At first, it was a breathy laugh until it grew into a bigger, mocking laugh. One he knew too well.

“Shut the fuck up.” His eyes found yours with lightning speed as he tightened the grip on your wrist.

His warm, almost suffocating hold on one of the most delicate parts of your body, made you feel the heat that emitted from his hands, somewhere else. Holding back a moan, you say, “or what?” You look down at his lips, secretly begging for him to lose his pride the way you have lost yours.

But Eren did nothing. He just stood there, blinking back thoughts as he looked at the ground. You thought that maybe nothing would happen; until you felt something poke at your thigh.

You scoff.

Why’d he act all tough and then back away, when you obviously wanted him? Since his ego seems to get the best of him, with your free hand, you place his on your breast.

Eren’s body tensed as his eyes grew as wide as the moon when it's at its fullest state. Mouth, as dry as a desert that hasn’t seen a drop of water in years. His head, filled with how badly he wanted to hold every part of your body; with how he wanted to fill you up as much as the thoughts of you, filled his head.

You roll your eyes and place his hand that hung by his side, on your other breast. You felt a hot feeling, rush through your body and pool on your panties when he boldly squeezed. Your cheeks were so hot, they itched.

You lick your lips and look at him. His eyes were glued on your breasts, nothing you did took them away from them. Even with every little squirm or moan, his eyes never abandoned them.

“What were you saying?” You tilt your head.

He kept quiet and let his heavy breathing speak for him.

“Not so tough now, huh?” You laugh.

“Shut up.” He squeezed on your breasts harder and pulled a moan from you.

The sticky, brown-tinted fabric of your top that hugged your breasts, allowed a better view of how they looked under Eren’s touch. But he needed the real thing. He needed this off of you. Now.

He peeled your shirt off and threw it behind him. He looks you in the eyes and waits for you to nod before freeing your breasts off your bra.

When the cold atmosphere hit your nipples, they perked.

“Fucking slut. Probably dripping wet.”

“You can check.”

He trailed his hand down your stomach, lifted your skirt, shoving your lace thong to the side as his fingers met with your wet folds.

Eren, treating you like this, and wrapped around your fingers has your head spinning. And though you want this just as much as he does, you can’t help but mess with him. “Why so quiet? Where’s that tough act now?” You snicker.

A deep groan rumbled from his throat as he shut his eyes. But that simple comment made up his mind. If you wanted to act like a fucking brat, you were going to be treated as one.

He snapped your panties back in place and let go of the hold he had on your breasts. He gripped on your hair and forced you down on your knees.

“If I shove my dick down your throat, will you shut the fuck up?” He pushed your face against his jeans, rubbing the prominent bulge of his pants on your face. “Is that what you want? Huh?”

You look up at him and nod, your throat gone too dry to reply to him.

“Do it then.”

You practically jump to unbuckle his belt. You could feel bruises forming on the sensitive skin of your knees that met with the harsh, cold stone under them.

The satisfying sound of the buckle of his belt, clinking, filled the air as you slid his jeans down and let them pool around his ankles.

You take a hold on the outline of his cock, giving him a quick squeeze before rubbing up and down on and suppressing a moan.

Eren knew what game you were playing and wasn’t going to let you win. He whipped his dick out and tapped his tip on your lips.

“Open.”

You slowly do so while sticking your tongue out. And he wasted no time in shoving it in your mouth as far as he could, which makes you gag around him.

“What? You use that mouth of yours so well to make my life a living hell, don’t tell me you’re no good for sucking dick.” He stilled his movement and let you adjust to his size.

After pulling him back a bit, you start sucking. You gather as much saliva to the front of your mouth and spit it on his cock. You spread it all over him. Hands, moving up and down as you lock your eyes with his. You chuckled every time you saw him struggle to suppress a groan.

You hollow your cheeks and suck on him, let him out of your mouth to lick on the tip of his head; only to have him groan and push your head down his cock. Eren takes a firm hold on the back of your head and carefully pulls you further in at first. He gives you slow and soft thrusts as he tries to angle your head just right to fuck your throat. When he finds that perfect angle, he takes no mercy on your poor throat as he uses it in the way he desires.

Eren looks down at you, taking him so well, gagging on him as he fucks your tight throat. He thinks he likes you like this. But when he sees you reaching down a hand to circle on your clit, he pulls you away.

“Think I’m gonna let you cum this easily?” He laughs. “You’re dumber than you look.”

He looks around the room, from left to right. You sit back on your calves and look up at him, confused as to why he moved towards the janitor's cart.

He rolls it closer to him and takes a few spray bottles away from the top of the cart. He throws them on the ground. He then looks inside the yellow trash bin that’s hanging by the side of it. When he sees it’s empty, he makes up his mind.

“Get up.”

You obey and stand. Your knees ache because of the harsh ground that was against them, and your calves cramp from sitting on them for so long.

With each step, your legs tremble a bit. Eren furrowed his brows, almost annoyed at your body for reacting to his harshness. “Can’t walk already?” Face filled with irritation, being covered by his obnoxiously teasing tone.

Though his words make your cheeks burn from embarrassment, you still think of something to snap back at him, but before you could do so, he reached for your wrist and pulled you to him. A few steps later you were pushed against his chest.

You look at him, your eyes wide and filled with surprise. His eyes were dark and dull, but dreamy. Too easy to get lost in. Why did you ever make fun of him? His lips were plum. A bit red from arousal, but glistening from him licking them.

“Turn around.”

You push yourself off him and turn. His breathing was so heavy, you felt almost suffocated by it. Warm air, hitting your exposed skin, making shivers run down your spine as your body hairs prickled. The heat of his body felt as if it was being absorbed into yours. His energy, different from every guy you’ve been with; different from the one he had when you entered this room. Something about him made it easy for you to submit to him, even though you’re not the type to. Something about how roughly he treats you, how he doesn’t care about your status has your legs trembling as your cunt aches, wanting, begging to be filled by him.

Eren grabbed your shoulders and moved you sideways until you were directly in front of the cart. He pushed your upper body towards it, making your ass stick out and press against him. You moan and push yourself harder on him, drawing small circles on him as you swirl your hips. He pins your arms behind your back and pushes you forward.

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

The cart was too tall for you to be in the position he wanted you to be. Since he couldn’t get you to lay on it, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you on top of it. Your stomach and chest laid on the cool surface, as your ass stuck out for him, your legs dangling off the cart.

“Damn skirt is so short I don’t even gotta lift it up. Tell me, you wore this for me?” Harsh slap on your ass. “Mhm? Wear this for me to fuck you like this? Fucking slut.”

His words, going south. Making you flutter around nothing as he rubbed his tip on your clothed cunt.

Eren massaged his heavy palm on the aching spot on your ass and squeezed it. He sets your panties to the side and rubs on your slit, up and down with his thumb.

You swing your feet and arch your ass as you moan for him.

“Impatient little thing.” He circles on your clit for a bit before forcing a finger in. Slick, making it slide easy. A groan bubbled up in his throat as he stuck another finger in. He pumps his fingers into you and drops down on his knees. He licks on your clit and forces his head as close to you as possible.

“Eren, I need you,” you whine out.

He pulls his head away. “Need what?”

“You, need you.”

He huffs as he stands up. Eren spreads your ass and rubs his thumb on the curve of where your ass connects to your legs and brushes his dick up and down your entrance. He teases his tip through your folds and forces a moan out of you when he pushes his tip, in.

He chuckled. “Soaked for me, huh?”

Heat rushed to your face as you laid your hot cheek on the cool surface of the cart.

He kept taunting you by fucking his tip into you, laughing, when you squirmed under him. He felt on top of the world as he saw the picture that clouded his thoughts late at night, right in front of him.

When you finally moaned from just his tip, that’s when he pushed all of him into you with one thrust. Bottoming out as you’re stretched to the max.

He was so big, so wide, so long. His tip rested on your cervix as your walls squeezed him in. You were unsure of how he would move with how much of a tight fit he was, the mere thought had your head spinning. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever had. You’ve never felt fuller in your life.

Eren, though he doesn’t like you one bit, can admit he has never felt another girl in the way he’s feeling you. Your walls pulsate around him, milking him of what’s yet to come, as your slick gathers around your smooth walls and ultimately covers him with it.

“You got one good quality, huh?” he says through shut eyes.

He rests his hands on your ass and pushes out. Your pussy, suctioning his movement and making him lean toward you with shut eyes.

Nothing would be more embarrassing than if he came with hardly one thrust. You would never let him live it down. He needs to get his shit together.

Eren separates himself from the moment. He mentally puts himself somewhere else because holy fuck he doesn’t think he can fully enjoy you without cumming.

He thrusts back in and refuses to look at your body or allow himself to groan. His eyes were tightly shut, as were yours, but not for the same reason.

Eren kept thrusting, slowly filling the air with splotchy sounds of wet skin against skin. Each thrust was so harsh, so deep, your body was pushed forward every time his pelvis met with your hips. His cock didn’t kiss your cervix, no, it smashed against it. Definitely bruising it. You felt like you were being stabbed.

You reach a shaky hand under your stomach and find your clit. When you circle it, it eases the ache of his stretch on your walls and the assault on your cervix. Makes you feel good, too good.

Eren continues to fuck into you, you could feel his thrust from your hand on your clit because of how thick he was. His size makes your head spin with haze. He slid in and out of your plush walls with more ease each time. You were dripping wet, feeling sorry for whoever has to clean up the mess you’re making on the poor janitor’s cart.

“Fuck—you’re useful for once, huh?” He pants as he opens his eyes.

You squeeze your eyes shut with a whimper leaving through your lips.

“Huh?” He slaps your ass, you respond with a moan. And right when he was about to spank you again. “Yes! Fuck, yes!” Tears prickling on your pretty eyelashes.

“This is all you’re good for.” He spanks you again, again and again. Each time your ass jiggled with each sharp thrust of his, he just had to slap it back into place. Your skin, stinging from his harshness but pussy squeezing him impossibly tighter with want; with lust. You love this. You needed this. You craved this.

Eren removes his hands from your ass and places them on the ledge of the cart. Now pulling himself into you, wanting to reach into the deepest parts of you that no one has ever done before.

The tears that pricked at your eyelashes earlier have now made their path known as they mark your tingly cheeks. Delicate sobs drip from your plump lips just as fast as each tear, drops.

“You gonna cum? Hm?” Eren takes a hold of your nape and forces your head down on the cold surface of the cart. Your head fogs on the contrast between your burning cheek being joined with the cold surface.

“Yes!” You know he won’t give it to you so easily. “Please let me cum, Eren. Please, please, please.” You were a mess. Babbling things you know you won’t remember after this. And the chain of pleads only stopped when you felt his thick, firm fingers rubbing fast circles on your clit.

“Think you’ve been good, huh?”

“Yes! I’ll do anything, please.” Your mascara racing down your cheeks leaves a bitter taste in your mouth once it reaches it.

“Stop—making my life a living hell.” He grips on your ass cheeks and moves you at the pace of his thrusts. "And—I’ll even consider doing this a couple of times—per week.” He panted, close himself.

You moan, “fuck, okay, yes. Please.” You tighten yourself around him. Which caught Eren completely off guard, as he was on edge.

Through a hiss and a tight squeeze on your ass, he groaned, “holy fuck, take it. Fucking take it.”

He slams into you deeper and circles on your clit faster until you feel the coil that had been building up in your belly, explode. Explode into a million pieces. Explode in a way that has never happened before. In a way, no one has been able to archive. You felt it all. That build, erupting from your clit and making your entire body feel euphoric off your high. Your nipples perked, dangling legs trembling, pussy spasming and milking him in a way he has never felt before.

Eren came to you a few strokes after your high. He’s surprised he lasted as long as he did. But the second your plush walls squeezed him in, almost trapping his soul too, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. With a final thrust, he came deep inside you. Emptying himself in your belly after his whole body contracted.

He pulled out with a hiss. And held himself above you by leaning on top of you. Each arm caging you in, cum drooling out of you, and hypersensitive body trembling under him. You were both there, exhausted, sharing the moment as the air filled with heavy pants.

Eren was the first one to speak. “We should go to class.” He moved away from you and snapped your panties back into place.

“Yeah.” You push yourself off the cart. Your feet meet the floor with a thud.

Eren dresses back up. His belt clinked as he moved to fix his clothes.

When you turned to face him, Eren’s eyes dropped down to your chest before meeting with your eyes, just like he had done earlier. Except now, he felt a pang of guilt.

You lean your head to the side, confused as to why he was staring when you were just finished.

You received your answers when he took his flannel off.

“Sorry about your shirt.” He hands you his flannel. You hesitate to put it on, but when you did, you felt guilty for ever treating him badly. Maybe he didn’t deserve it.

Eren stared at you longer than he should have once his clothes covered your body.

He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He looks at the ground for a bit before turning around and opening the door to exit. He turns his head and looks at you up and down before speaking.

“Um, Later.”

And with that, he left you there, in his flannel that smelled like him.

Musk and weed.

You stay in the closet for longer than necessary; wondering what it is about him that has your heart stammering.

Whatever.

You adjust and dust your skirt, before walking out of the room.

reblogs are very appreciated :))

-

CHOSOSCUMSLUTT 2021 © All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, modify, or repost.