#dorky bun :((((

[maitogaimybeloved]

a couple kakashi drawings i never posted.. girl dad and a cat he names tomato after Sasuke..

[peaches2217]

I am forever salty that Bun Bun Mario Battle was never given a proper release anywhere outside of Satellaview. Not necessarily because of the gameplay, admittedly, but because it has some of the cutest art and it’s criminal that it’s fallen into such heavy obscurity.

[crownedcrowws]

:: Dead or Alive :: (art by me)

[thedorfmirrin]

Drew the cute dust bunny themed pony that @oddmarsfellow drew for me a bit ago 💖🤍💖

Her name will be Dusty Feathers! (She/her) 🧹���

[copiawife]

i love calling copia dreamy so much he's so dreamy to me!!!!

[teecupangel]

Me at Basim after the Last Chapter:

[hornyhornyhimbos]

"One Of Me Is Cute... But Two Though?" ~ L. Alvez

Summary: When Reader spots her pregnant friend at a Halloween party, the wheels start to turn in her head. If Luke really loves her, won't he love having a second Reader even more?

Pairing: Luke Alvez x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,664

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, couch activities, breeding kink, Luke is kind of a mean!dom oops, nicknames (baby, brat; Luke is called daddy once), sorta implied drinking since they take an Uber home but not really, explicit language, lowk this fic was kinda rushed sorry, fic title is of course from "Juno" by Sabrina Carpenter, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: so sorry this was not posted on time 😭 hope you guys still enjoy though!

Originally Written: 10/25/2024 through 10/27/2024

criminal minds masterlist can be found here!

halloweek masterlist can be found here!

Ever since you'd gotten in the Uber, you'd been sulking. You refused to even look at Luke, your hands staying planted in your lap instead of reaching over to hold his like they normally would. It wasn't his fault—really, no one was at fault—but you couldn't seem to help your pouty nature.

Every so often, Luke would meet you with a pout of his own, his eyes sad as he tried to figure out what exactly was the matter with you. “Baby, please talk to me,” he'd say every few minutes, and every time, you just kept on silently moping.

As you walked into your shared home, his hands landed on your hips. A soft pair of lips peppered kisses along your exposed shoulder, Luke’s silent way of trying to get you to talk to him.

Still, you weren't giving in that easily. You simply let out an annoyed huff, moving away from him and sitting down on the couch.

Hot on your trail, Luke followed, squatting in front of you and reaching to undo your strappy heels. “Okay, you gotta tell me what's going on,” he said, clearly put out despite his calm tone. “I can't fix the problem if you don't tell me what's going on.”

“Doesn't matter if I tell you,” you grumbled, nearly under your breath. “You won't fix the problem anyway.”

His eyebrows raised, his expression somewhere between serious and shocked as he registered what you'd just said. “You wanna try that again?”

A tingle shot to your core as his dominant side started to show. You couldn't deny how much it turned you on when he was mad, so you decided to press a little more. “You heard me,” you said, lips still turned downward in a bratty pout.

Luke stood back up to his full height, practically towering over you as he placed his hands on his hips. Despite his dorky mailman costume, he managed to look sexy in those mid-thigh shorts and navy baseball cap. “I know what I heard,” he said, his words still sounding calm even though his expression told a different story. “I'm giving you a chance to fix it before you earn yourself a little punishment.”

The word punishment sent heat straight through you. You frowned again, not saying anything else on the current topic as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Luke huffed, his anger finally starting to show just a little. “Do I need to fuck a confession out of you?”

Despite how tempting that was, you finally gave in, figuring you should at least try to have a civil conversation about what was bothering you. “I want a baby.”

Luke's mouth dropped open in shock, his eyes widening a little. He didn't say anything, waiting for you to continue.

“Didn't Hannah look so cute in her costume tonight?” you asked with pleading eyes. “Don't you want that to be us next Halloween?”

Some might have found your college roommate's costume a little silly. She'd somehow turned an old cardboard box into an oven and painted a cinnamon roll over her six-month pregnant belly, effectively turning her stomach into “a bun in the oven.” Hannah's husband had his oven mitt-covered hands on her the whole night, proclaiming he was the proudest baker that had ever existed.

However, something about your friend (and her slightly possessive husband) made your baby fever kick in. The thought of Luke knocking you up, the thought of him being absolutely primal with you, sent your head spiraling.

The sound of Luke's deepening voice brought you out of your thoughts and back to reality. “So you thought the best course of action would be to act like a brat until I gave you your way?”

You couldn't help the slight blush that crept its way onto your cheeks. You stayed silent, knowing whatever you said next would probably get you in worse trouble.

He knelt in front of you again, his hands slipping under your dress, fingertips dancing along the expanse of your thighs. “You know, you really don't deserve anything tonight. Acting like I've never taught you any manners.”

With a smirk, you replied, “Maybe you should teach me again.”

Luke’s lips turned upward into a smirk of his own, dragging a finger slowly over your covered core. “You really are a little brat,” he scoffed. Still, his hands slid your dress upward until your thighs were uncovered, revealing the wet spot starting to form on your cherry red panties. “I rest my case,” he said with an eye roll.

“Come on,” you said, puckering your lips outward and giving him puppy eyes. “Can't you give in just a little?”

A low chuckle rumbled through him as he grabbed your legs and pulled you forward. “C'mere, my sexy little love letter.”

Teeth grazed your thigh as his hand pulled at the waistband of your underwear, sliding them off agonizingly slowly. In an instant, his mouth was on your core, attacking you with kitten licks and dirty kisses.

Your legs instinctively tightened around his head, practically holding his face to your center. Though your hands were practically shaking at the pleasure he was already providing you with, you managed to turn his cap around backwards. Instantly, he was diving even further into your center, groaning at the easier access.

A finger replaced his tongue, slipping inside of you and curving exactly the way you needed. You couldn't help the moan that fell from your lips as his mouth joined back in, desperately tonguing at your sensitive bud. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned as a second finger joined in, the words a low rumble against your center.

“Luke,” you sighed, his tongue leaving precise licks along your clit. Despite how good his ministrations felt, it simply wasn't enough for you. “You're never gonna get me knocked up if you don't fuck me.”

He scoffed, the hot air of his breath heavenly against your cunt. His fingers stayed inside you despite his mouth leaving your clit, his eyebrows raised as he met your gaze. “You're being a greedy brat right now.”

You started to reply, but the words were cut off as he flexed the digits inside you again, fingertips brushing over that perfect spot it seemed only he could reach. Your hands grasped at the couch cushions, trying to steady yourself in any way you could.

“You want me to knock you up?” Luke asked, his voice practically a growl. He tore his hands away from you, leaving you feeling absolutely empty as he worked on the fastening of his shorts. As he realized your eyes were fully focused on his hard-on, he demanded, “Answer when you're spoken to.”

“Yes,” you managed, nearly salivating as he pulled his cock out of those tiny khaki shorts.

He chuckled, the sound making your pussy ache more, if it was even possible. “Be careful what you wish for, baby.”

Without warning, he was shoving his length into you, giving you no time to adjust. His movements were quick, hips snapping into yours greedily. This was about him now, about teaching you a lesson and getting his own way.

“You want a baby?” he asked rhetorically, cock slamming into you as he practically held you down to the couch. “Fine. I'll give you a baby.”

Pleased whines slipped between your lips as he practically bullied your cunt. Every ridge and vein slid in and out of you, the friction absolutely delicious and exactly what you needed.

One of his hands met your center again, rubbing fast circles over your bundle of nerves, his eyes still on you to see your reaction to the pleasure. “Gotta cum first if you want me to fill you up,” he instructed, toying with your clit a little harder. “Gotta earn it.”

His filthy words and commands had you keening, your back arching off the sofa. You couldn't form words at this point, only noises that showed him how desperate you truly were. The sound of your bodies moving against each other filled the air, the scent of sex heavy in the air as skin slapped against skin.

You were close, so close to your release. The coil in your stomach burned as you inched closer to your climax, hands meeting Luke's hips and pulling him impossibly closer. “Please, Daddy. Make me cum,” you begged, your head falling back against the couch.

Luke only sped up at that, his dick hitting your sweet spot over and over. His eyes closed in pleasure, and you could tell from his expression that he was close too. He pulled your pelvis closer to his, his movements shoving you further into the couch. Hips grinded against hips, perfectly in time with the circles he continued to place on your clit.

The new angle was just what you needed to fall over the edge, your orgasm burning through you. Your veins were practically on fire as he fucked you through it, now searching for his own release.

The tiny noises of pleasure coming from you as he fucked you into overstimulation was what he needed to reach his own release. Hot spurts of his seed filled what felt like every inch of you as he finally started to slow his movements.

After a moment of you both catching your breath, Luke lifted you by the waist, holding your body close to his as he headed for the bedroom.

“What are you doing?” you managed to ask, the sound close to a confused giggle, before kissing at the small sliver of his neck you had access to.

With a smirk, he answered, “Gotta make sure it sticks, right? You want a baby or not?”

Your head fell back in a laugh, though you couldn't argue. You were both in for a long night, but you couldn't seem to bring yourself to care. You just kept on kissing his neck as he laid you down on the mattress.

-> taglist: @reidsbookclub @dungeons-are-too-cold @ptrckjcne @longlivejemily @staley83

-> icon in collage by @lilacprentiss

-> dividers and support banner by @saradika-graphics

-> bun in oven costume idea by @dungeons-are-too-cold bc we are both lil freaks

[lexirosewrites]

Omega Steve studied at culinary school for years after working in the kitchen of a small diner in his hometown

He moves to LA with omega Robin after she gets her degree. Steve tries multiple chef interviews but is always judged for being an omega. Finally he applies for a position as a personal chef to a rock star, and is called to come to this Eddie Munson’s fancy mansion. Well Steve recognized the name from the numerous rants by his little brother & equally dorky friends abt this guy's band so he does a little research abt the guy. Learns tht he grew up in a trailer in nowhere Indiana.

So Steve plans

The day of the interview he's expected to cook something for Eddie. He brings a couple of those small coolers & shakes hands with everyone present. He gets briefly distracted by Eddie's scent but powers thru like the professional he is

He makes Eddie a cheeseburger. A damn good one too. No need for tomatoes or lettuce or onion. Just a couple of beef patties, some American cheese, & a few pickles. He toasts the bun in the left over grease from the patties. Makes the perfect french fries. And to tie it all together he pours Eddie a classic Indiana beer.

Something something something

Steddie end up together idk how

food as a love language and unintentional courting method because they share a similar upbringing and appreciation for simple comforts!💕

[hairmetal666]

What if, after Vecna is defeated, Eddie lives and is recovering in the hospital and one day he's just gone. Like, Steve and the kids come to visit and his hospital room doesn't even exist anymore. It's just a blank stretch of wall. The nurses, nurses they know worked with Eddie, say they've never heard of Eddie Munson and there's never been a room where the kids insist there was the day before. Anyone else they ask says they've never heard the name, even though it was only weeks ago that the entire town formed a mob to hunt him down. Hopper and Murray look into it and there's no record of an Edward Munson in any database anywhere. His previous arrests are gone, his fingerprints, record of Wayne becoming his legal guardian, his social security number, his birth certificate. Even his Uncle Wayne, gone without a trace. Like neither man ever existed.

They search for years, always hoping for word, or a return, or anything. But Eddie was there one day and gone the next. Apparently forever.

They mourn, all of them. He was part of the group, part of the family, and then he was gone with no fanfare or goodbye. Then he was gone and every force in the world pretended like he'd never been there in the first place.

Steve, quietly, takes it hard. He spends weeks crying himself to sleep, clutching the ruined battle vest to his chest. It's just unfair, is all, Steve thinks. '86 was supposed to be Eddie's year.

Time passes and they all grow up, all move away from Hawkins. Steve and Robin move to Indy; she starts college and Steve gets a job at a little bakery because he's a regular already and they're hiring.

He loves baking, finds it calming in a way very few things are for him anymore. After a few good years, the store becomes his, and he didn't know he could be this happy or satisfied with his life, after everything.

He never stops thinking of Eddie.

Close to Steve's 30th birthday, a little bookstore opens up in the vacant building across the way. Steve sees the owner sometimes, dark hair pulled into a sloppy bun, pale skin, the occasional hint of black ink under his dark clothes. Beautiful. They wave at each other almost every morning and Steve ignores the reminders of Eddie. They're commonplace now. Any man with long dark hair, tattoos, and black clothing stirs a spark of recognition in Steve's gut, and the disappointment still hurts even after a decade.

Weeks pass and Steve notices a new display in the window of the bookstore; those dnd guides all the boys have, the dice with too many sides, the little plastic figures and pots of paints and delicate brushes. He vows, the next time the kids are in town, they'll go over and he'll finally introduce himself to that probably nice man whose only sin was a slight resemblance to a boy from Steve's past.

The kids come for a visit only a few weeks later, and are just as enthusiastic about going to the bookstore as he is to take them. He has them help bake his secret-recipe sugar cookies, decorate them in a dnd theme (Erica and Max say they're dorky, and he agrees, despite being pleased with the results).

Steve heads to the bookstore first, to warn the guy about the veritable horde of feral young adults about to descend on his quiet store.

He walks in to the sound of a gently ringing bell and Metallica playing at low volume on the store's speakers. Steve has to ignore it or he'll walk out.

"Be right with you," a muffled voice calls out.

"Take your time," he responds. He browses with the container of cookies in his arms, taking in all the dnd stuff, the signs about dnd club meetings, the stacks of new release books and a couple cds.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," a soft, husky voice says back at the front of the store. It breaks Steve out in goosebumps.

"Don't worry about it. I'm from the bakery across the street, wanted to finally introduce myself. I brought goodies," he adds, sort of blushing.

He steps back up to the cash register, eyes finally settling on the owner he's only seen from afar and all the breath leaves his body. It leaves him lightheaded, dizzy.

Eddie Munson. Eddie. Munson. Stands behind the counter, hair in a bun with messy tendrils around his face. He looks the exact same. Maybe a few more lines around his mouth and eyes. But the same.

"Ed--Eddie?" Steve's voice croaks out. He barely manages to drop the cookies onto the counter and not the floor.

Eddie's deep brown eyes flood with tears, a hand--every finger with a ring--covers his mouth. "Steve," the other man sobs.

There's no hesitation as Steve flings himself into Eddie's arms, the other man catching him and holding him tight.

Eddie squeezes him, crying against Steve's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he repeats.

"I can't believe you're real," Steve murmurs between soft sobs, pressing his face against Eddie's neck.

"I'm real. I'm here," Eddie agrees. "I'm right here, sweetheart."

Steve pulls out of the embrace a little, just to look at Eddie's face. To see after all these years. He presses trembling fingers against the line of Eddie's jaw, and the other man leans into the touch, lets Steve trace the contours of his cheeks, his mouth.

"You're here," Steve agrees.

Their eyes lock, drink each other in, ten years of longing dancing at the knobs of Steve's spine.

"They took me away," Eddie says, deep brown of his eyes serious and pleading. "The government. They snuck me out in the middle of the night and forced me and Wayne to adopt new identities, sent us to New Mexico. Monitored us so I couldn't contact any of you. It killed me, Stevie. To be away from you. From Robin. The kids."

That snaps Steve out of his daze. "Oh, shit. The kids."

It's too late, though. The bell at the door jingles, the usual cacophony that accompanies the seven of them filling the little store in an instant.

Dustin's voice rings out, above the others, "this store is so fucking cool."

"Language," Eddie scolds on auto-pilot. When he realizes what he said and why, his eyes wash with new tears.

The kids turn, as one, to the man they never thought they'd see again.

Steve's fingers dance down Eddie's arm, finding his hand, twining their fingers together. Eddie tightens his grip. Steve's never letting go of this man ever again, and he knows with some deep, element certainty that Eddie feels the same.

"Eddie?" Dustin exclaims.

"Hiya, kid." Eddie smiles a little, ducks his head.

"What the fuck," Max says.

"Anyone have time for a story?" Eddie asks. He dashes away the few tears that track down his cheeks.

"We have all the time in the world," Steve agrees. Doesn't think before he lifts Eddie's hand and presses a kiss just below his knuckles.

[crazyk-imagine]

Okay, so, I have an idea. Wade Wilson with a tall S/O (any gender is fine, but preferably fem) that can and does pick him up?

Tall Girls Rule and Wade Drools

Pairing: Wade "Deadpool" Wilson x Tall!reader

Characters: Wade "Deadpool" Wilson, Tall!reader, James "Bucky" Buchanon Barnes, Logan "Wolverine" Howlett, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Ellie "Negasonic Teenage Warhead" Phimister, Yukio, Natasha "Black Widow" Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker

Warnings: Fluff, Wade is a warning himself, puns, dorkiness, terrible jokes and nicknames, reader lifts wade whenever, wade likes being babied, everyone likes and doesn't like him, they never know what to do with him, the avengers did not ask for wade but here he is, mention of alcohol or at least drinks, surprisingly no mentions of chimichangas, wade is a slut, reader does not fall for his antics, small xmen and avengers cross over, mentions of the forbidden unicorn

Word Count: 1k

Also based off this post

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You're happy to hang out with your friends, even if the only reason you know them is because of your idiotic and chaotic boyfriend.

He still amazes you even though you two have been together for so long now.

-

Before the party, you were smoothing out the skirt of your dress and a slight breeze came through the window.

You’re worried with how thin the fabric feels, it might be too late to change.

“Hey babe?” You call out for him, not knowing where he wandered off too.

“Yes, sugarplum?”

“We vetoed that one two weeks ago,” you answer while adjusting your watch.

“Right, right. Yes, my anaconda don’t because she’s got the big buns hun?”

“That ones a little long.” You enter the kitchen and find him standing on the counter, making a mess. “Wade,” you sigh.

You walk towards the counter, placing your hands by his feet; seemingly trapping him in. “You’re not supposed to have sugar before we go out. You know you basically turn into a crackhead.”

“I take offense to that because, sugar–”

You mutter under your breath, “jesus.”

“- to be a crackhead, means you have to be on crack or have it in your veins.”

Your right eye twitches as he makes the motion to his elbow. “Did Peter show you that? I told him to ban you from tiktok.”

“Jecuze!”

You roll your eyes and pull him off the counter, tossing him over your shoulder.

-

You pause at his warm hands caressing your behind. “Wade.”

“Yes, juicy- I mean baby?”

“Stop playing with my ass.” You start walking towards your shared room once more.

“I thought you liked it when I played with you. You weren’t complaining last night.”

You toss him onto the bed and grab your earrings. “Shut up.”

You stand back, checking yourself out in the mirror. “Okay, be honest.”

“I’d totally-”

“No.” You turn to face him. “Can you see my nipples through this dress?”

He shakes his head, “no, don’t worry, but I’m sure they’re still there.” He leans back and looks you up and down. “If you want, I can give you an inspection. Come on,” he pats his lap. “Give papa some sugar.” 

You roll your eyes. “Go grab your unicorn and jerk off, you horndog.”

He whines and lets out a noise as he catches his stuffed friend.

-

You glance up from the table and turn to find Wade moving around like an insane person.

Part of you regrets dragging him out with you but another part of you doesn't and seeing him goof around to annoy Logan and Bucky makes you feel better. 

You turn back to Ellie and Yoko only to furrow your brows after finding them stare at you. "What?"

"Are you ever going to stop staring at him?" The dark haired girl asks.

"What's wrong with me looking at him?" 

"You stare at him like a lost puppy."

"I do not," you scoff.

Yoko places a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, letting her know she needs to calm down and watch what she says.

Ellie doesn't mean to but sometimes her brain and her mouth aren't always in tune with one another and it leads to fights.

You glance back at Wade, watching as he messes around with Scott too. "I wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Okay?"

You purse your lips, unsure if this is something you should be confessing. 

You decide against the logical part of your brain and tell the girls what's been on your mind.

Wanda makes her way over, dragging Natasha with her.

"Sorry, ladies," the shorter haired woman tells you.

"Our favorite bartender was dealing with a weirdo and we didn't get our drinks until now."

You all chuckle knowing she was referring to your boyfriend, who still stands beside America's sweetheart and his best buddy plus the others, annoying the absolute shit out of them.

"I said I was sorry but what was I supposed to do?"

Wanda turns to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, pulling your attention onto her. "Don't listen to Nat, she's joking with you. She’s actually happy to see him act, sort of, decent. I mean, we all are. He finally got manners."

You give her a small smile and nod, feeling the same way.

"I think that's the first time we all can ever agree on something about Wade," Ellie adds.

You cover your mouth chuckling, "definitely."

-

Wade turns around at the sound of your laughter.

The others can see how his eyes soften behind his mask.

None of them seeing the rainbows and dancing unicorns that envelope you.

"-ade? Wade?" Steve calls out.

"Yes, Mr. All American?"

The blond sighs, "I told you to stop calling me that."

"And I decided not to listen," he leans closer to whisper, "get a load of this guy, am I right? He's acting like he doesn't know me."

Bucky raises a brow at his behavior, not believing that someone can act the way he does even if he's known to man for a few years, Wade always has a way of surprising people with his antics. 

“Could you stop fawning over your girl for five minutes and chill?” Logan grunts.

Wade pretends to think on it. “Hmm no.”

He runs over to you and throws himself into your lap.

All the girls groan at his entrance.

You chuckle, “Hi honey.”

“Hi sugarplum, you having fun?”

You shake your head.

“Shut up, we were having more fun before you got here.”

He turns away from you. “I don’t know whether to be offended or not.”

Yoko stares at him concerned, “is he okay?”

You nod, “he’s fine.” You stand up, carrying him and set him beside Tony, needing him to stay with the boys. “Baby, stay here.”

“But-” He pouts.

“Wade.”

“Fine but if I’m drunk by the time we’re done, don’t blame me.”

"God help us," Logan mutters.

"I am the only God here." He turns away and uses the back of his hand muttering into the distance, whispering, "I'm still Marvel Jesus."

[astralnymphh]

Domestic!Ellie is my addiction.

I need more. You don’t understand. It’s not a want!? It’s a DESIRE A NEEDDDDD!!!!!! Just reading the hc’s, how sweet and soft she is under it all.

When she’s herself again, that goofy dorky nerd we all know her to beeee!!! AGHHH!!!

- 🩵

i see more domestic!farm!ellie than i do domestic!jackson!ellie, and i think the latter needs to be discussed more.

no cuz farm!ellie— as I've definitely claimed before, is very husband coded. on the other hand, a more early–lover, girlfriend who takes care of the child u got knocked up with. which is literally dina, but, i guess if ur' not obliged to the thought of getting knocked up in the first place; gamer dad. i grew up with one, not like he was present 24/7, but like.. ellie? same font alternate story. i also hc ellie does best with boys, idk. just feel it. okay, maybe cause of jj.

stopp staying over at ellie's place for the night n' you bring the lil' guy over swaddled to your chest— legit, sowing two steps upon her doorstep, darkening it, not even getting the chance to knock, nay cast breath over it, and it's swung open and the bundle of wrathful joy nearing the age of two once strapped to you is now ecstatically babbling in your auburnettes arms. tis' fucking magic; how whenever ellie comes in contact with that baby, skies are rainbow–painted and mourning doves are entrancing the whole of jackson with a birdsong. how ur sweet boy, blood of your blood and bone of your bone, weeps gutty murder in the hold of yours truly— but dries of cheek and whorls of smile with ellie, is unfathomable.

"heyy dude, hows my favorite lil' guy in the world doing?" baby–talks ellie, so ooey and cooey as she bounces at the knee, blocking the doorway, "whos' ready to watch mom play the turning? i know mama is, i know you aree." you are but a fragment to her now, a forgotten shadow at her door. that sounds grim but take it literally. she like, literally forgets to kiss you at the door sometimes.

"ellie." comically, you tap your foot, faking a downturned pout left to dry without her kisses, and the cruel wintry air.

snapping her fern eyes up, she jerks a dumbfounded visage— and an even dumber query, "what?"

"my kiss?"

"oh, right.. um," her face relaxes and turns lily–white of innocence, shooting scattered glances at the child as she slants her weight over to you, "hey babe." extending graceful as a swans neck yet devoting you only a measly peck on the mouth measured lesser than a second before she slunk her body back and spun inside, rambling chin–tucked to that child, "ellies' got a new record i think you'll really like.."

lips still baked to a dry, you stare in catatonic quiescence at the eclipsed circle of pale lamp–light streaking around her bun as she paces away from you. step, by step, by hurried step, eager to spill attention with the full force of her coos amusing the easy–to–please mind, garbiling a possible bravo! or huzah!— until nightfall would whistle through the crickets and quiet him to sleep. leaving you, an even larger, tatted up baby now whiny for your attention.

need to see angelgbc photos of jackson!ellie holding jj now

[pinkhor1zon]

red bean buns ₊⊹˚ෆ

pairing - gn!reader x kim woonhak

genre - fluff, online friends/classmates to ??, high school au

warnings - food, slight swearing, they’re in their last year of high school, adults dni, woonhak’s down bad, lmk if there’s anything else!

wc: ~1.6k

synopsis - when there’s a dorky classmate that keeps sneaking glances at you and a boy on the other line who isn’t telling you his name, you’re starting to get suspicious.

maia’s note: i love woonhak so much lawd 😭😭 this is slightly inspired by “you’re here that’s the thing” by beabadoobee!! but erm i wrote this really quickly and messily bcuz i’ve finally come to the realization that woonhak is my bias. i’m sorry leehan. anyways please enjoy! reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🫶

“gi? are you there?” you furrowed your eyebrows, “did you hear me? my name is yn.”

there was a break in the thick silence, “huh? oh, yeah, i’m sorry.”

you were talking to your online friend of 3 years, gi, on the phone. you met playing roblox and after becoming very comfortable with each other, you were basically best friends.

although the two of you were extremely close, you still went by your username, and gi said he had been going by a nickname as well.

the both of you chose to call and reveal your real name since it had only felt right. i mean, knowing each other for so long and everything, you guys should!

thus, you had just revealed your name to him, and for some reason, he sounds.. in shock?

“okay it’s your turn, what’s your real name?” you asked him.

“um.. i actually have to go now.. yn.. b-bye!”

your phone beeped, signaling that he had hung up. he actually hung up.

your jaw dropped. there is no fucking way he just did that.

continue under the cut!!

——————

the next day, you woke up with a buzzing headache.

you had texted gi repeatedly about the event that occurred, but he hadn’t replied whatsoever, and of course, it kept you up at night.

over the years you’ve known gi, you have developed feelings for him. however, you never wanted to admit it, as you were embarrassed for having feelings for someone you didn’t even know in real life. i mean, you didn’t even know his name… playing games and talking daily made your heart skip, even if you wanted to deny it. so after yesterday, you felt an even larger sense of embarrassment.

you walked into your classroom, basically a zombie. you sat down at your desk and rested your head on your arms, closing your eyes.

“dang what happened to you?” your desk mate and class president, park gunwook, questioned you.

you shrugged, responding sarcastically, “a fucking tornado hit me, that’s what.”

gunwook chuckled and his eyes wandered elsewhere.

“hey why’s woonhak staring at you so sadly? he looks like a puppy, don’t you think?”

you opened your eyes and to the right of you was woonhak, standing near his friends. his group was conversing with passion, but he was looking right at you. also, gunwook was right; he looked like a puppy.

almost automatically he looked away, scratching the back of his neck as his ears reddened.

you furrowed your eyebrows. what was that about? you thought.

you shook off the strange feeling you got and closed your eyes again. but when you did, you felt a familiar pair of eyes focusing their attention on you again.

——————

you and woonhak weren’t friends or anything. the only time you had talked to each other was for a project in your 2nd year. yeah, you two had been in the same class every year, (which was actually a strange coincidence..?) but you had never been close like that. it wasn’t anything personal; you both just didn’t feel a need to get close or whatever.

so why, just why, was he staring at you so much?

it was now lunchtime, and you, gunwook, and your other friend, haerin, were grabbing food at the convenience store.

you walked into the bakery section to pick up a red bean bun, already holding a strawberry milk in one hand. you spotted the item you were looking for, but you also noticed something in the left corner of your eye. you grabbed the bun and then turned to your left.

it was.. woonhak.

woonhak stood there at the end of the aisle, a red bean bun in his hand and a blank stare on his face.

you raised an eyebrow, “woonhak?”

he didn’t say anything. he just stood there and looked at you, expressionless. you walked up to him slowly.

“woonhak do you have something to say?? orrr..”

he blinked. then blinked again. his eyes widened, “oh.. yn! i’m so sorry!! um..”

“its alright. are you okay?” you asked, concerned.

“yes! well.. actually, i’m not fully sure,” his eyes wandered and then focused on the red bean bun in your hold. “oh! do you like red bean buns too?”

you giggled, “yeah i do!” he smiled at you widely, and you did the same.

“yn! did you get it??”

you turned to see haerin calling at you. when she saw woonhak behind you, she raised her eyebrows.

“yeah i got it,” you looked to woonhak, “i’ll.. see you later?”

he nodded, blushing a bit. you walked up to haerin and both headed to the cash register, where gunwook was.

“what was that yn? you and woonhak..?” she wiggled her eyebrows.

gunwook, obviously confused, said, “huh? what did i miss?”

“not much? well i don’t know what that was honestly..”

they looked at you, puzzled. you three checked out and headed back to your classrooms. on the way back, you explained your little interaction with woonhak.

gunwook chuckled, “he wants you so bad.”

you scrunched your face in refusal, “no way..”

“i don’t know, yn, he got really flustered when seeing you. like, quite literally speechless,” she snickered.

you blinked, thousands of thoughts running through your mind. woonhak liking you wouldn’t be the worst, but you need to stay loyal to gi, right? or maybe not since it’s kind of complicated currently. you were still thinking about what happened the day before and were still utterly confused; this woonhak stuff didn’t help.

you shook your head at your friends, trying not to over complicate everything. you figured that when you got home, you had to try and talk to gi and find out what was up with him hanging up so abruptly?

——————

after arriving back home after school, you plopped on your bed, desperate for rest after your previous sleepless night. you pulled your phone out of your pocket and pressed on you and gi’s messages.

he’s read your texts, but hasn’t responded to them. you frown, wondering if you did anything wrong. you then start typing out a message but stop when you see three circles pop up, signaling that he’s texting you.

can we call?

the message shows on your screen, and you pause for a second—before quickly pressing the call button.

“gi?”

“yn.”

“woah, it’s weird hearing you call me by my na-“

“we need to talk.”

you press your lips into a thin line. “okay.. what is it?”

he pauses and says, “you see.. we actually know each other. like, in real life.”

“w-what??” your eyes widen, “who are you?”

you hear him take a deep breath.

“can we meet at the park near may street? i feel like this is something to be handled with in person and.. i have more to tell you.”

you take in his words, thinking about his question in your head. you trust he’s not some creep or so, i mean, you have known him for 3 years and a strong trust and bond have grown from that.

“okay. in around 15 minutes then?” you decide.

“yes, that sounds good. i’ll see you then yn.”

“see you.. gi.”

——————

you were laying down on the slide, looking up at the sky. you quickly walked to the park, basically the moment you got off the call. everything was just really overwhelming to you, you didn’t know what to expect or feel.

luckily, there was no one at the park and a light breeze was present. you look at your phone screen. 4:40. the call ended at 4:30. you closed your eyes, nervous for when your online friend of 3 years would appear.

you ultimately treasure your friendship with him and that’s part of why you’ve never confessed to him. you were too afraid of ruining the bond you had already built. therefore, you sucked it up and decided to ignore your feelings. even if you still felt them. like, really felt them.

“um.. yn?”

you jolt up and open your eyes.

“wait..”

“hold on i can explain!!”

“woonhak?”

there standing in front of you was your dorky, awkward classmate, woonhak.

“yeah.. okay well i wanted to tell you BUT!! don’t forget i just found out who YOU were like, yesterday, and i was really taken aback but also happy because you’re… you! um, im sorry, i-i,” he scratched the back of his neck.

you stood up from the slide and walked up to him. patting his shoulder, you gave him a reassuring smile.

“woonhak, dude, calm down! it’s just me.”

he mumbled, “well that’s the thing, it is you..”

you raised an eyebrow, “huh?”

“no.. no! um, you see,” he exhales, “i love our friendship and i was very happy to find you in roblox 3 years ago. but.. when i found out you were yn in real life, that.. changed things.”

you nodded slowly, “okay.. how so?”

“i just liked my online friend, [username], as a friend, right? but.. you.. i like you, yn, as more.”

you gape at him, mouth widening in an ‘o’ shape. “you.. you like me? like like me?”

he says sheepishly, “yes, like like you.”

you hold in a laugh, “that’s ironic because i like gi as more than friends, but not woonhak.”

now it’s his turn to gape at you with wide eyes and his pretty lips in a small ‘o.’

you giggle, “so.. what now then?”

“well.. i’m gi and you’re yn so..” he stressed the last o.

“so…” you repeated.

“we’re a thing?” he said slowly.

you smiled at him, “we’re a thing.”

he engulfed you in a warm yet somewhat suffocating hug and nuzzled his head into the side of your neck. his next few words were muffled, but you could still make them out.

“i really, really like you, yn.”

——————

the next day, you arrive at your desk at school and lying on it is a mountain of red bean buns. a sticky note is on the top and it reads, ‘i heard you liked red bean buns?’

do not repost, translate, or copy.

[seeingivy]

ahhh congrats on 1K!! you deserve it all :D

for your concert, may I suggest got my mind set on you for eren with a friends to lovers type trope? like maybe eren has a bit of a past as a fuckboy and realizes now that he's in love with his friend. she doesn't believe him given his history, so he is determined to woo her, but really he just needs to show her that he's serious about her (because she has already loved him this whole time hehe). OR whatever you want to do!!

got my mind set on you

eren x f!reader

**part of my debut concert event

content: drinking, reader gets her periods and leaks on her sheets, eren is a manwhore, hitch is a hater, jean and marco are masterminds

an: thank you sweet sweet anon! you deserve all the love in the world. I hope you like it <333

--

“Y/N. White wife-beater or black wife-beater?” 

You peek up from the top of your textbook to glare at him and he has that stupid, stupid grin on his face. The one he uses to get anything he wants. 

“Man. At this point you’re just trying to sound like an asshole.” mutters Jean, taking Armin’s pillow and smacking it straight into his face. 

Mikasa and Armin laugh in response, agreeing as Eren makes his way over to you, flopping on his bed next to you. He’s leaning directly into your space, that musky cologne enveloping your nose as he starts talking. 

“Y/N.” 

“Eren.” 

“Black or white?” 

“Ass or face?” 

“What?” 

“Do you want me to punch you in the ass or in the face?” 

He laughs as he bends over, sticking the aforementioned ass into your space as he knocks your textbook out of your hands and you push him away. And you try to fight the smile trying to make its way on to your face, trying to feign as much anger as you can. 

But you can’t be mad at Eren. You can’t be anything but a jumbled mess of feelings at Eren lately. 

When you moved to college, you were looking forward to getting a fresh start from the town that you grew up in. Not that it was ever a bad place but it was never really a good place either. And you were ready to let it all go, to move away from your parents, to find out who you were. 

And just your luck, the one boy from your highschool going to the same college as you ends up in your orientation group and never leaves you alone after that. Dragging you to random club meetings for free food, taking you to mixers that your RA hosted, trying to sneak into frat parties together. 

At some point, you were just always together. And maybe some small part of you really liked having him around. That he wanted to be your best friend, told you all the little inner workings of his mind instead of someone else. That he thinks the Loch Ness Monster is made up, that he likes the Twilight movie soundtracks a little bit too much, that he loves mystery books. 

And he’s dorky - snorts when he laughs too hard, can’t drink beer without spilling it all over his shirt, and is so weirdly passionate about these little sea animals that he’s spending the entire summer doing an internship at the marine biology research lab at your university. 

But he’s also sweet - trying to memorize all the little facts about you, picking you up from class as a habit, telling you that you’re prettier than some shit guy who won’t come by. 

He’s your friend. Your sweet, secret little dorky friend. No one looks at you. But no one looks at him either. Maybe you guys only look at each other. 

Except when you come back from the summer, his dork is replaced with…charm. Charisma, an appeal, a magnetism. And maybe he was always really charming, but no one paid attention to it. It was just for you. 

But now they do - because he’s grown out his soft brown hair into this sunkissed loose man bun and spending all summer swimming in tidepools has defined his muscles. Because he was always gangly and a little awkward but one summer has him looking fit, in all the right places. 

That’s when it starts raining on your parade. Because when you and Eren go to parties, you’re talking to him less and the girl who's drunk and throwing up in the bathroom more. He’s too busy talking to the pretty girls, twirling their locks of hair in his hands and batting his pretty eyelashes at them. 

And he still picks you up from class with an iced coffee in hand, except the barista scribbled her name over your cup because she wants Eren to call her later. And you know Eren leans into it, because this newfound attention only gives him confidence to show off more. 

To tell girls about the creepy little slugs he spent all summer looking for so they can coo over how cute it is that he cares, to show off those ridiculously defined muscles, to gleam at people the way he does. 

You’re interrupted by your train of thought as Historia, the girl Eren met at a club meeting knocks on the door, shining sunlight at Eren as she smiles at him. And when he flicks the top of your forehead and stands up to press a kiss to her cheek and run out with her, you stick your face back into your textbook. 

And pretend it doesn’t sting. 

You peer over your notebook again to find Jean hanging upside down on the bunk, his eyes staring into yours. 

“Hi Y/N.” 

“Hi Jean. The blood is rushing to your head. You look like an overly ripe tomato.” 

He laughs as he flops off the bunk and next to you, leaning his head in to read your textbook. 

“A tort is a civil law that causes a claimant to suffer loss or….this shit is so fucking boring.” 

He snatches the textbook away from your clutches and flings it off the bed, giving an innocent smile as he does. 

“I was reading that.” 

“And now you’re not!” 

“Do you want something from me, Jean?” 

“Yeah. Let’s go on a date.” 

“You have a boyfriend.” 

“Yeah. It was his idea.” 

He pulls you up by the wrists as you both shuffle out of Armin and Eren’s dorm room, giving half-hearted goodbyes to Mikasa and Armin as he dragged you back to your hal. Trying to convince you to go on a date with him. 

“No.” 

“Listen. You make this mopey sad face whenever he brings a girl around. It’s really ugly.” 

“Thanks, Jean. You’re such a gentleman.” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose as he swings your door open, the two of you flopping onto your bed. 

“I just mean- I hate that you wait around for him. And Marco does too. I think it would be nice. For me to take you out, to make you feel special, to remind you that you don’t have to hopelessly pine over that idiot and wait for him to look at you back.” 

“Jean, I just-” 

He stands up, locking his fingers with yours, as he tries to use his boyish charm on you. And it’s entirely different from Eren’s. Where Eren oozes pure charisma, like you can’t help but give in because you just want to know what he’s getting at. 

Jean’s charm is more…boyish. Innocent. Because he’s smiling at you, all soft and genuine. Like you want to give in because you know he means well. It’s sweet. So you agree.

--

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“Pink dress or white skirt?” 

You hold up the options as Eren looks at you for the first time - even though he’s been in your dorm for the past three hours texting Historia in your bed - and squints at you. 

“Are you wearing makeup?” 

“Yeah. I’m going on a date.” 

He stands up, placing his hands on your cheek as he moves your face around in the air, taking in the product on your face. A soft glitter on your eyelids, black around your eyes that makes your eyes look infinitely bigger, and soft pink on the tops of your cheeks. 

“With who?” 

“Well, Jean for now. But it’s practice before I start going on real dates you know?” 

“You’re going on dates? Why?” 

You roll your eyes as you turn back in the mirror, holding up the options to your frame as you weigh what to wear. 

“Because. I want to get out there and I’m like…deeply touch starved or whatever. I just want someone told hold me or something. And it feels weird to do it cold turkey so Jean’s taking me.” 

“You could have asked me. I could take you.” 

You roll your eyes as you push past him, reaching for your flowery perfume that you spray on for special occasions. Eren’s leaning against your bedpost, his eyes scrunched up in frustration that for some reason is really annoying you. 

“You have a girlfriend.” 

“Hisu’s not my girlfriend. We’re just talking.” 

“Okay, yeah. Same thing.” 

“Jean has a boyfriend.” 

“This was Marco’s idea, Eren. He’s not going to care if I actually go on it and I think he’s probably the one who bought the flowers Jean’s going to bring me.” 

You hold the two options up in the air again, boring your eyes into Eren’s as you gesture for him to respond again. 

“I’m not picking.” 

“I literally pick your date outfits for you all the time. You could pick for me.” 

And Eren mutters something that sounds like pink under his breath which you smile brightly at as you duck into your closet to slip the dress on. And when it’s all fresh and pressed against your skin, there’s a knock on your door and a very smiley Jean waiting for you. 

As you predicted, he’s holding a pretty bouquet of pink flowers in his hand, wearing a nice buttoned up shirt as opposed to his usual lame t-shirts. 

“Hi. Don’t you look pretty?” 

He reaches for your wrist and lifts your hand up to spin you around, the pleats of your dress whooshing in the air and a stupid laugh falling out of your lips. 

“Jean. You’re laying it on a little thick there.” 

He shakes his head dismissively as he places the bouquet on your desk, giving a small nod to Eren as he walks back to you, pinching the side of your cheek. 

“You’re getting the full Jean Kirschtein experience. I have to set the bar high so you don’t settle for a whole idiot or anything.” 

And Eren watches you and he hates it. That he has this angry, green little monster simmering in his chest. That you’re smiling at Jean, that he’s taking you on a date to set your standards, that you’re wearing a pretty dress and laughing with someone who isn’t him. 

And he knows it’s wrong. That he has no right to be jealous when he’s talked to other girls ever since the summer ended while you’ve remained steadfast and true. And it wasn’t like you were staying true to him because Eren’s positive that you don’t feel that obligation, that loyalty to him, but some part of him feels like you do. Or wishes that you do. 

But suddenly…he’s feeling it for you. That he shouldn’t be with anyone but you, that he’s the person who should be taking you on cute dates, twirling you around in pretty dresses, having you spread glitter all over your face for him. 

Eren texts Historia as he watches you and Jean duck out the door. 

“Uh huh, Kirschtein. I’m sure this is gonna be the best date of my life.”

“That’s a promise, baby girl.” 

“Ew. Baby girl?” 

“Do you prefer sweetheart instead?” 

“You’re so fucking corny, Jean.”  

And when the door closes, he sends the text. 

I want to see other people. Sorry Hisu.  

--

You return from your date with Jean to find Eren slumped over in your bed, typing away on his laptop. Your roommate, Hitch, is glaring bloody murder at you as she flits her eyes over to his direction. 

“Eren.” 

“Ah. You’re back. How was it?” 

“What are you doing in my room? I left hours ago.” 

“Just wanted to see you when you got back. And I was spending time with my best friend, Hitch. She’s just so riveting to talk to and I just love her so much.” 

She throws her portable fan at his head, which he catches before it makes contact and then throws it back at her.

“I’ll walk you back to yours, Eren. And you’re buying Hitch coffee as an apology.” 

He rolls his eyes as he grabs his bag, blowing fake kisses to Hitch as she flips him off. You’re both trodding through the hall, the building quiet. It’s Friday night. Everyone’s partying. 

“Didn’t want to party tonight, Eren?” 

“Nah. Didn’t feel like it. How was your date?” 

You smile as you twiddle with your fingers. 

It was nice. To feel special, to have someone tell you that you were pretty. And sure he didn’t mean it in that way and it was entirely platonic, but it was nice to have someone look at you. Who wants to make you feel special, try to coax you into doing things you don’t usually do. 

And you’re positive it’ll feel even better when the feelings are reciprocated. 

“Really nice, Eren. I’m excited to…meet people. Date them. Have someone make me feel special, tell me I’m pretty.” 

“You’re pretty.” 

You look over to find Eren’s cheeks burning pink, the tips of his ears red as he avoids eye contact with you. 

“Thank you?” 

“Ye-yeah. Sure.” 

You make it to Eren’s door and he swings the door open, dragging you in by the wrist. From the looks of it, Armin’s not home, Eren’s desk light flickering on the desk. He drags you to his bed, the two of you sitting on his plush duvet. 

“Eren. I was just walking you here. I’m kind of tired from the painting.” 

“You went painting?” 

“Yeah. It was like a pottery type thing. We picked out mugs and just painted on them. Talked about stuff. Shared an ice cream together after. Jean and Marco gave me very sweet kisses on the cheek when I dropped him back off to his dorm.” 

Eren pushes his hand through his hair as he asks, the question making the air in his throat burn. 

“Ah. Would you ever…go on a date with me?” 

And you laugh. Quite literally laugh, because he cannot be serious. 

“God, Eren. Don’t be a cliche right now.” 

“What?” 

“You see your best friend go on a date with another guy and suddenly you’re interested in her. It’s like every corny rom-com.” 

You lean forward, pinching the plush of his cheek. 

“You just want what you can’t have, Eren. I’ve been waiting for you to notice me for two years. And of course, you only look at me when you can’t have me.” 

“Wait, but I-” 

“Eren. I want someone who makes me feel special. And you’ve always been special to me, but I want to be special to someone too. Let’s not make our friendship weird. And hey, maybe we can actually be equals this time.” 

“Equals?” 

“Two people who care about each other the same amount. Not one person hopelessly pining over the other.” 

You give his cheek one last pinch as you pad out his door, giving him a smile before you slam the door shut. 

--

The next morning, Eren’s standing outside your Civil Law lecture with a coffee in hand. And a shy smile pressed across his face. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” 

“Hi Eren.” 

Despite your admission of your feelings and your swift rejection of Eren, he’s still standing here. And you were expecting it, because you know that Eren wasn’t really saying any of that in earnest. And it’s nice to admit your feelings, as a way of letting them go before you give in and like someone else. 

You take the cup from his hand and shove the much needed caffeine into your mouth, the two of you strolling to your next class. You look over to find Eren with a pinched look on his face, like he’s constipated. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“Cat got your tongue? What’s wrong with you?” 

“You didn’t…look at the cup.” 

You look back down at the cup to find handwriting scribbled on it in green sharpie. 

you look pretty today, sweet girl 

You laugh, holding it up in the air. 

“No way. The barista called you a sweet girl? It’s that long ass hobo hair you have.” 

“What? That wasn’t the barista, that was me!” 

“You wrote on the cup? Why?” 

“For you, stupid! I’m trying to romance you.” 

You spit the coffee straight into your cup, looking back down at the cup again. And holy shit he’s right - the way the g is looped and the writing is slanted, it really is Eren’s handwriting. 

“Eren.” 

“What?” 

“It’s cute. But you’re going to do it for like one week. And then get bored of waiting and see some pretty girl at a party and change your mind.” 

“I’m not! You’re it for me.”

“Eren. Bullshit. You wouldn’t last a month.” 

He leans forward, pressing you into the hard of the wall as he looks down, green eyes glinting in yours. 

“Bet.” 

“What?” 

“I’ll bet on it. Prove it to you. That I’ve got my mind set on you.” 

“Uh huh. That takes a lot of patience, Eren. Time. Something that’s never been your forté.” 

“I’ll make it my forté, if it’s for you.” 

You give into the bet. A month for Eren to romance you, to prove that he’s really only got his mind set on you. 

You give in because you know you’ll win. He gives in because he wants to prove the stupid, silly girl he loves that he can do it right. 

--

eren: good morning silly little woman. fit check pls :D 

you: no. 

eren: cmon. ive got back to back classes and im missing that cute little face of yours :((( 

you: just ask ur hoes. im sure they’re cute too. 

eren: no hoes. im allergic to gardening. 

you: you should start stand up comedy. you’d be really good at it.  

eren: you want me so bad 

you: shut up

eren: im waiting!!!! time is ticking doll, i will show up to your club meeting and start gushing about how pretty my girlfriend is in front of all your little prospective club members if i don’t get a fit check in ten seconds

you: not your girlfriend 

eren: yet. three weeks to go. 

you: do you not have anything else to do?

eren: picture and i’ll be out of your hair. 

you: sent one attachment

eren: eren jaeger found dead at twenty-one.

you: thank god. 

eren: cause of death - the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen in my life. absolute heartstopper

you: EREN. YOU’RE SO GROSS AND CORNY STOP. 

eren: ok ok see you after class sweet girl. and thanks for the picture. corniness aside, it really did make my day. you’re my favorite thing to look at. 

You ignore the pounding in your chest as you throw your phone into your purse and head to the coffee shop. And what you hoped would be an uninterrupted study session is interrupted by a certain green eyed idiot, smiling at you as he takes the seat across from you. 

“Hi doll.” 

“Eren. You have class.” 

“Got canceled. The planets and the fates and all the stars aligned. You and me, free for a little study date at the same time.” 

You crinkle your nose as you lift your backpack from the seat next to you, Eren sliding in and taking a sip from your watered down coffee. 

“Did you just rhyme? How long did that one take you?” 

“The whole walk over here. Did you like it?” 

“No.” 

Eren opens up his laptop, the two of you working in silence. And in the smallest of ways, Eren’s making it hard for you to focus. 

Tangling his legs with yours under the desk, resting his hand on your thigh every time you work out one of your homework problems with him, tucking your hair behind your ear every time it annoyingly flops forward. 

“Oh! I have something for you.” 

He holds out a tiny little candy, a twisted mango strawberry pop. The one you can only get in Shiganshina, a four hour drive away. 

“What the fuck? You had Mindy’s the entire time and your greedy ass wasn’t sharing?” 

You take the little candy in his hand, twisting the ends open and letting the flavors melt on your tongue. And the nostalgia hits your head, running in the grass as a kid, your mom keeping a little box on the top of the microwave for you two to share at the end of the day. 

“Just got them. I drove all the way to Shiganshina to get them for you.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“I’m being serious. I went on Sunday, after my lab meeting. Got the box, hung out with my dog for an hour and came back.” 

“You were probably just running an errand down there. I bet Zeke just needed your help with something.” 

“My parents and Zeke are in Hizuru, remember?” 

You feel your mouth go dry as you shuffle the candy in your mouth, huffing back in your chair. Corny ass idiot. They are in Hizuru to meet Zeke’s new girlfriend. But there’s no way in hell he drove all the way there just to get you a candy. 

“There’s no way you-”

“I’ve got my mind set on you. In my mind, you and I are already dating. I’m just kind of waiting for you to catch up.” 

“Oh, quit i-” 

“When you’re my girlfriend, we’ll go together. Make a little drive out of it, see your parents and my parents. Get Mindy’s. Bother that lady who works at the aquarium.” 

“Eren.” 

He pinches your cheek as you frown, rolling your eyes at him. 

“For now, I'll just drive down there alone to get you candy. Three more weeks, stink.” 

--

Your stress is building. You’ve got two term papers due next week, a club meeting to plan, a project to go over with your research advisor, and groceries to do. And really, really all you are is bone dead tired. That you can feel your bones dragging and your eye bags deepening and the panic shuffling every time you breathe in and out. 

Your final straw? Forgetting you were going to get your period and leaking onto your bed sheets. 

And you know it’s not a big deal. That you can wash the sheets and get the stain out, that you can take a shower to feel better. 

But this tiny little thing, this red blotch on your sheets, is enough to push you over the edge. Because you’re tired, because so much is going on, because this is just another thing you don’t have time to do but have to. 

You can feel the tears streaming down your eyes, burning the sensitive skin underneath your eyes and flushing your cheek. 

That’s when Eren finds you. Curled up on the ground, tears streaming down your eyes. 

“Woah, hey. Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?” 

He falls flat on the floor next to you, opening up his arms which you roll into and start soaking his shirt in your salty tears. He’s whispering into your ear, whispering sweet nothings and his warm arms are holding you. 

“Tell me what happened. Use your words.” 

“I-I have a lot to do. The Civil Law paper and the entire plan for the-the club meeting. Dr. Smith wants to meet with me about my-my research plan and I’m not ready and I got my period and leaked on my sheets and I don’t have time to clean and-” 

“Okay. It’s okay.” 

His warm, calloused hands are rubbing into the small of your back, his hold still firm against you. And he drags you up, opening the shower and warming it up for you. He’s rummaged through your closet - pulled out a stack of clothes and set them on the counter. 

“Are you…going to leave?” 

“Of course not, Y/N. Outside when you’re done, okay?” 

And you take the shower. Spend too long standing underneath the warm water, letting the shower scald your skin in a comforting way, relishing in the smell of your springy body soap washing you clean. Of the tears, of the blood, of your frustrations. 

When you towel up your hair and reach for the stack of clothes on the counter, you only now realize what this cheeky bastard did. Left a pair of your pajamas and the hoodie he was wearing on the counter. 

You pull it on, his musky smell mixing with the scent of your flowery shampoo, as you pad out of your room, Eren folding your laundry on your bed. 

“Eren.” 

He turns around and gives you a warm smile, walking forward to lock his fingers with yours. 

“You look so cute right now. Pouty little face and your hair in this stupid towel.” 

“Quit it.” 

He leads you over to your bed, climbing on as he pulls you forward. 

“Cleaned the sheets. Did your laundry. And made a plan for you to finish the paper and emailed Erwin from your account that you’re not free until the week after and-” 

You can feel your eyes burning, the tears welling up in your face. You lean into his arms and he rests his chin against the top of your head, his hands snaking under your hoodie to press against your cold skin. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm.” 

“This is a really elaborate plan to get into my pants.” 

He laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest as he talks. 

“I know.” 

“I knew it, you dick. You only want to get in my pants.”  

“Well, that’s part of it. I am very attracted to you. I’m not going to pretend like I don’t want to be in your pants.” 

“Charming. The whole “I’ve got my mind set on you thing” is really working.” 

“I'm being honest! I want to be in your pants and in your head and all your little dreams and your heart too.” 

You rest your head against his chest, his heartbeat hammering against your ears as he finishes talking. And when you drift off to sleep, you can still feel it beating in tandem with yours. And try to forget why you and Eren are waiting two weeks to do this for real in the first place. 

--

He’s done it now. And you’ve caught him in the fucking act. The sweet, sweet satisfaction of proving this idiot wrong - that he would get bored of waiting for you and move onto another girl is standing right in front of you. 

It’s Eren’s friend Reiner’s birthday. Eren had told you in advance that he couldn’t see you Friday and you obliged. 

Except, Hitch invited you to the party the day of, claiming she needed someone to walk in with so she didn’t look like an idiot. Some guy Marlowe she’s really into is going to be there and she has to be at her best. 

And when you get to the party, you lose Hitch in all but five seconds, left in this awkward, sweaty mess of a room alone. But when you walk over to the kitchen, you see it. 

Eren leaning over the counter, talking to a girl. Short brown hair, a mass of freckles over her face, the two of them smiling at each other. And when you march over there, you’re all but too happy to rub it in his face. 

Because you’re right. And you knew you were right. That Eren, all hot and toned and sexy from his beach summer, would not give it up. The attention, the girls, the love he gets from all of it for you. That he would look at other things and not at you, that you couldn’t be enough for him. And he can buy you coffee and do your laundry and be there for you all he wants, but you know deep down you’re right. 

“You little son of a bitch. Week three and I win.” you say, crossing your hands over your chest. 

“Huh?” 

“I win. You’re at a party, flirting with a girl. Meaning, you don’t have your mind set on me. Meaning, I’m right. That you can’t let go of being a manwhore for me, that you surely have your eyes wandering elsewhere even though you claim to be only looking at me.” 

“Y/N-” 

“You think driving to get me candy and doing my laundry and giving me your hoodie would buy me over? You’re not getting into my pants for a quick fuck just because you know you can and-” 

He pulls you forward, clamping his hand over your mouth. He’s squinting his eyes at you, almost like he’s confused at your outburst. And when you look over at the girl, you realize why. 

It’s Ymir. The president of the Gay-Straight Alliance Ymir. Like literally the gayest girl you’ve probably ever met in your life. 

“Oh.” 

Eren smiles, rolling his eyes, as he drops his hands to lock his hand with yours. 

“Yeah, oh. Did you not see it was her when you walked over?” 

“No. Hi Ymir.” 

Ymir smiles, reaching forward to mess with your hair as she turns to Eren. 

“You’re right. She really is stubborn.” Ymir says, smiling at him. 

“Tell me about it. She does this every time I do something nice for her.” he responds, squeezing your hand as he talks. 

“Well, you are a manwhore.” 

“Not anymore, Ymir! I’m only a whore for her.” 

She pinches your cheek as she walks off, linking arms with a certain blonde as you walk away. And when you look over, Eren’s lazily making a drink for you on the counter, swirling it in his hand before he gives you the cup. 

“It’s Jungle Juice. There’s like three different liquors in it but you can’t really taste it s-”

“You’re not mad?” 

“Huh?” 

“I just…yelled at you. Really unfairly. And you’re not even mad?” 

“Got my mind set on you. Like you said, this thing takes patience. And time. I’ll wait for it. You’ll come to see I’m surprisingly good at this patience understanding when it’s something I really, really want.” 

And as he tilts his head back, pouring the drink into his mouth, like the entire outburst you had didn’t happen. And that’s it. You crane your head around the kitchen, looking for it. 

“Whatcha looking for?” 

Eren watches you mill around the kitchen, opening drawers, lifting picture frames as you look for it. And when you find it - the calendar posted on Reiner’s wall - you rip it off and place it in front of Eren with a marker in your hand. 

“What’s this, Y/N?” 

“Did you know that I can move time forward?” 

“Huh? How much have you had to drink?” 

You reach forward, crossing out through the entire week. The last week of the month, for the bet you and Eren had. 

Because he’s convinced you. That his mind’s set on you. That even if he used to like other girls, the girl he likes now is you. Enough to drive hours to make you happy, take care of you - bloody sheets and all, and gush at a party about you to other people. Like he’s proud to be around you, like you’re the only thing he looks at. 

“I don’t follow, sweet girl.” 

“The bet started three weeks ago. And I crossed out the last week, so it’s over now. And I want to be with you no-” 

He leans forward, pressing his warm, plush lips against yours as he can’t help but smile through the kiss. All warm and fruity, surely from the drink Eren just made. And he whispers against your mouth, eliciting a laugh out of you. 

“Thank fucking god. You were driving me insane, you little heathen.” 

You reach forward, tangling your hands with the collar of his shirt as you pull him down again, pressing your lips against his, trying to memorize the feel, the sensation of him against you. 

And when Hitch comes home from the party, all buzzed, to find you two under the covers, watching a movie, she says one thing and one thing only. 

“No fucking in my bed.”

--

taglist: @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @daisynik7 @rebeccawinters ​@itzmeme 

[mothmansbanker]

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap- Prologue

Mammon x Human! Reader

It was a wild night for you. It was only Wednesday and you were dead tired, having to work the next morning for the broadcasting station you recently applied for. Why did you feel so drained? So so tired and ready to drop, yet your roommate didn't care! Instead she dragged you out and about to her coffee shop friend's house 30 ish or so miles out of town and towards the more foresty areas of your small town. So…here you were.

With your head against the hot window that had your skin drenched with humid sweat and a gross icky feeling that made your skin itch adn want to crawl out of. "Hey uh,Gwen. Where exactly are you taking me? This seems..a bit far." You gulped down the gathering spit in your mouth, a feeling of uneasiness washing over you as you sat up a bit more in the passenger seat. The blonde woman glanced over before looking back at the road, a somewhat dorky grin tugging at her lips. "Oh come on, are you really that worried about it? Trust me! I'm not an axe murderer or something." Gwen rolled her eyes as she came to an intersection and singaled right…which lead into an even darker part of the forested area. There did seem to be some light, a small dull glow seemed to coat some of the lower branches of the trees.

The car crept closer to this decently well kept cabin that seemed spacious. Two other cars were parked in the front, the quiet noise filling your head with dred as the leaves crunched under the tires before Gwen parked terribly beside the two other vehicles. "Alright," she clapped her hands together before removing her seat belt and kicking open the car door, "Cmon! Out out. We're just going to head inside that front door kay?" She gave you her usually dorky grin before shutting the car door, heaving out a sigh you unbuckle yourself and take a deep breath in…to mentally prepare. Opening the card door you grab your bag and hurry out, slinging your bag over your shoulder and slamming the door shut. This felt like a bad idea.. Your stomach was rolling in its grave. Clenching and twisting in ways to make you wince. Was this a good idea? Going to a complete strangers house with your roommate to do who knows what! Remember your breathing exercises..

…1…and 2…1…and 2… You were okay for now. Until this was over and you can go back home and become your true slug self. Wrapped in blankets and binging some trashy reality tv. An uneasy feeling filled your stomach like lead as you walked into the crickety cabin, the wooden walls looking rustic and ready to blow down if someone even blew on them. Moss and vines kissed the stone path and the wooden logged walls, the door rickety and thumping against the doorframe slightly from the gusts of wind that pulled and pushed the wooden rectangle. You gulped down that residing fear, trailing behind your roommate who hurried up the three crickety steps and knocked obnoxiously. "BeccaaaaAAAaaaAA! Cmonnnn, open up, bitch." It was obvious Gwen and Becca's relationship was like that. Playful with mean comments and names, but honestly it was probably the best friendship anybody could ask for. Or even want! As you waited there on the first step while Gwen was on the first you could hear a quick patter of footsteps and then a thud and a loud meow that sounded like a smug cat...those smug bastards. Opening the door was a tall woman who looked like she had just woken up. Basket ball shorts, some overly baggy and ratted up shirt that had a cat on it, cozy socks with crocs...which was a crime in your opinion, but you decided to ignore that part. She had her hair in space buns atop her head, a bit damp but neatly placed. You stood there now on the second step watching as the two exchanged hugs and smiles, Gwen motioning you inside as she stepped inside, a overly chunky cat making it's way towards you. At least there was a cat! A orange tabby with no thoughts behind its eyes, eager to flick its tail and rub against your leg as if demanding for treats or pets. A tired smile made its way to your lips as you squat down to rub the cat and give it scratches...before it bit you half way through. Scurrying off to who knows where while you stand back up and look at the nibble mark left upon the crook of your hand.

"So....What are we doing? My plans for tonight were just gonna be to chill maybe..and well a new episode of The Girls is on and I was gonna finish that season-" Your rambling was quickly interrupted by the two other girls laughing, Becca wiping a fake tear from her eye.

"Holy shit, Gwen, you didn't tell me your roomie was a riot! God I love you already." Becca had a smile still on her face, but in a cute dorky way. As she wrapped an arm around your shoulder she brought you in close so you were nose to nose now.

"Listen. You're cute, but you seem VERRYYY boring. Have some fun! Ever try those shitty cringe challenges from middleschool?" Before you could even THINK about answering her question she placed both her manicured hands on your cheeks and squished them, "Gwen and I found one and we wanted to try! buuutttt...we needed a third person! Which is youuuu~ Isn't that fun?" The feeling of being overwhelmed washed over you as you just furrowed your eyebrows and looked confused as she was rambling about some 'spooky challenge' and it probably not going to work. What were they even talking abou- your swirling thoughts were quickly and once again interrupted as she started wrapping a piece of deep green fabric around your eyes.

"Wait- hold on!" Your frustration grew as you tried to get away from Becca's touches and grabs, "You haven't even told me what I'M doing!-" You felt a set of hands on the sides of your face, holding your cheeks as the scent of mint and cigarettes wafted over. "Cmonnn, babes! Just trust us! You trust me right? I'm your best friend!" "Gwen, you're my only friend." Was your only reply as you felt the same frustration, but diluted a little bit now. As the blindfold was snugly tightened against your face and blocking your vision, it felt as if your other sense were heightened. You could hear the slight creaking of the house and the small giggles between the two girls. You could smell the minty and menthol scented breath still of Gwen, and the light airy perfume that Becca wore that reminded you of an old woman at a thrift store. Suddenly you were pushed further into the room, the sound of a rug dragging along the wooden floor was loud in the depths of silence that was cascaded down on you. Shivers spiked along your spine as you tried to be calm, hearing the click and flicker of a lighter somewhere to the side of you as one of the girls sat you down on your knees, locking your knees and elbows together.

Trust them right? Trust Gwen? You knew Gwen since freshman year of highschool..So why shouldn't you trust her? But there was that feeling of doubt and uneasiness planting itself in the pit of your stomach, its seed sprouting and its roots planting itself inside of you more permanently. Your breath quickened as you tried to steady it, panic washing over you as a low hum was heard form the two. Then it began. The softly low mumbling of the two girls as a pouring sound was heard to the left of you, a liquid hitting the cusp of metal. A smell lingered, a burning smell. With a hint of rotten eggs and the smell of some burnt meat... An acidic feeling rose within the back of your throat before a weird smoke began spreading through out the room, filling your nose with a acidic putrid smell that was thick. Scrunching your nose the distinct sound of...a cash register was filling the air for a split moment? Then you heard it. The rough whiny sound of some angry Australian.

"Now which one of you fucking cunts summoned THE Prince of GREED to this SHIT HOLE?!"

[sillywabbits]

@tway-la

…they made me spill my fizzy faz

*cough* not complaining *cough* 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Hello new moot! ✨owo

He’s just so happy to see you!~~ ☀️💛✨

[gwen-parker2014]

under the mistletoe

reader: named Alana, ditzy (golden retriever gf), has a toxic mom

genre: angst, fluff, best friends to lovers <3

౨ৎ

You shifted uncomfortably in your armchair, playing with the hem of your skirt. The pleated plaid fabric was now worn, the edges fraying from overuse. Your mother had bought it for you last Christmas, and it was so gorgeous you wore it at least once a week in the winter.

You checked your watch, tapping your fingernails impatiently on the arm of the chair. Peter was late. You had no idea how long you could last alone with your mother.

As you nervously sipped your hot cocoa, the doorbell rang. You smiled, knowing exactly who was it was. Placing your mug on the coffee table, you dashed for the door so as not to let your guest freeze.

Your smile faded when you saw your younger brother and his girlfriend.

“Hey!" your brother's warm smile faltered after noticing your evident disappointment. "Don’t look too excited to see me, it’s not like I haven’t seen you in months. Peter’s not here yet?” He gave you a knowing smirk.

“I didn’t think you were him! I…I just thought you were Dad,” you lied through a tight-lipped smile. Clearly, he didn't believe you but decided, thankfully, not to tease you about it.

“This is my girlfriend, Taylor," the girl gave you an unnecessarily toothy grin, throwing you off with her excessive friendliness. "Move it or lose it, sister. Go daydream about Parker in your old room or something.” He grabbed her hand, pushing past you to greet your mother. Taylor gave you a sheepish smile, mouthing a "sorry" for your brother's behavior.

You were about to close the door when you heard an, “Am I late?”

You whipped around, already grinning like an idiot. Even just the sound of his voice did that to you.

Peter stood in front of you in his pine green parka and dorky spiderman hat, two huge bouquets in hand. You wrapped your arms around him, popping your feet off the floor in your excitement. It was a miracle he was still standing since you practically barreled into him with all your strength, but he caught you, shifting the flowers to rest behind your back.

"Did ya miss me?" Peter pouted playfully, his puppy eyes trained down at you with nothing but adoration.

"Mhmm," you nodded vigorously into his collar, simultaneously catching a whiff of his earthy cologne.

His eyes crinkled in affection at your energy. You felt so right in his arms, he never wanted to let go. He would do everything in his power to protect you for the rest of his life.

He stepped inside and handed you the flowers. Pink roses with baby's breath. He knew you better than the back of his palm.

Peter admired every little thing about you, like how even now, you reached up to fix a loose bobby pin in your messy bun. You always looked so pretty even when you weren't trying. His gaze softened when he looked down at your outfit.

“Are you wearing my sweater?” he asked coyly. Your eyes widened. You hadn’t even noticed you had it on. You had "borrowed it" a couple weeks ago without telling him. He had looked everywhere for it and now the girl of his dreams was wearing it.

“Wha-No. This thing?…Yes?” your face flushed a deep shade of maroon as you turned from him to place the flowers on the countertop. Peter smirked. He had made you flustered, and he was enjoying every moment of it.

“Keep it, it looks better on you. Maybe ask next time though,” he chuckled as you covered your face with both hands.

You led Peter to the couch, gingerly taking a seat beside your mother.

“Peter! Oh, I’m so glad you’re here, I don’t think Alana can stand me for much longer without you! You got yourself a girlfriend yet?” you groaned at your mother's incessant badgering. Poor Peter had barely stepped into your home, and she was already interrogating him.

“Mom, stop! Leave Peter alone. I’m sure a pretty girl will come along eventually and sweep him off his feet,” you rolled your eyes.

She already did, Peter wanted to say.

“Jeez, baba, don’t be such a Grinch. This is why you don’t have a boyfriend,” your mother mumbled.

You scoffed, trying not to let her throwaway comment ruin your day. “Please, Mom. How did this go from-”

“Lana, I need to talk to you…about our assignment?” Peter cut in. You took a deep breath and nodded, letting Peter drag you to your room.

“What do you actually want to talk about?” your eyes were wide with wonder.

Oh, God. Peter gulped, steeling himself. It was now or never. He couldn't hold it in any longer. He really hoped he didn't blow this, he cared about you more than anything in this world.

“You?” it came out like a question. He ran his fingers through his curls, a nervous old habit that was second nature to you as much as him. Now that he was in a room alone with you he was full on freaking out. Man, he should've planned this out better.

“Me? Why would we talk about me? Is everything okay, Pete?” you looked up at him, voice soft.

“Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. I just…didn’t want you to fight with your mom…again,” he looked down at his holey socks, disappointment creasing his features.

You sighed, taking a seat on your bed, motioning for Peter to join you. He sat down and you turned to take his hands in yours. You always liked holding them, they made you feel protected and cared for.

“I love that you care so much, you know?” your voice was barely above a whisper as you gazed into his beautiful brown eyes. He was almost convinced you could see into his soul with that earnest heart of yours.

“How could I not? I mean, I love you,” Peter blurted. Your eyes widened. He what? Peter didn’t realize his mistake till you retracted your hands, settling them on your lap.

“You love me?” you were shocked.

“Pfft…No. Unless you want me to?” he played with his fingers nervously, too scared to look at you anymore. He had messed things up enough already. “Please just...forget I said anything. This is embarrassing enough already.”

“Peter-” you began.

“Don’t feel bad, Lana. I know you're way out of my league, and it could never work out,” Peter rambled on.

“Peter!” you exclaimed.

“What?” he looked at you, noticing you were holding his hands again.

“I love you too,” Peter didn’t register your words at first.

You loved him?

“You do? You’re not just saying that as a joke? Or to make me feel better?” he asked, not quite believing what he was hearing. You nodded, smiling softly up at him.

“I do. A lot,” you brought your hands up to cup his face. Your face was burning up, but you were convinced that you were never more sure of something your entire life. All you wanted to do was kiss Peter. And you finally could. You started leaning in, your faces inching closer and closer. Your lips brushed his gently, testing the waters before you dove in.

You felt nothing but euphoria. You had been dreaming about this since you were twelve. You poured five years of pent up desire into deepening the kiss, not caring that his nose smashed against your cheek or that his mouth tasted like the stale hotdog he had probably devoured on the bus ride here. You thought his lips tasted just like home.

Your breathing came in heavy pants, but you weren't ready to pull away. You wrapped your arms around his neck, which made him that much crazier about you. Peter pulled you onto his lap, arms secure around your waist, holding on like his life depended on it.

You finally pulled away, staring at each other, still not convinced this was really happening. Your face felt hotter than the sun, Peter's no doubt mirroring the crimson blush spread all over it. The sleeve of your sweater had fallen and was now exposing your shoulder. Your lips were swollen, like they'd been sucked by a vacuum cleaner. Or by an idiot teenage boy who was head over heels for you.

Peter thought you had never looked more beautiful. You tried to fix your hair to no avail. Peter grinned, adjusting you on his lap. You laughed shyly as he began pecking your face, dotting each kiss with an, "I love you."

“Hey, look!” you pointed at the ceiling. Peter looked up, chuckling. Ironically there was a mistletoe, hanging right above you. Your dad must’ve put it there. You buried your face into Peter’s chest out of embarrassment.

“I want every Christmas to be just like this,” Peter whispered softly, tenderly kissing your temple. He could get used to this.

౨ৎ