#he'd look just the smallest bit smug

[personne-reblogs]

@leosmasktails XDBENRBEKNXELNFF EVERYTHING IS CONNECTED

I was bored :^

[eclipsedechoesofmywords]

Can you please do Jack Thompson x reader where reader and him don’t really like each other and argue often but then one day when the SSR does a joint mission with the FBI, an FBI agent starts being really weird, rude and creepy towards her, and Jack gets super protective. Thank you!!

"A Little Bit of Respect"

[Jack Thompson x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: You might not like Jack and he might not like you, but he would protect you like his life depended on it.

Warnings: harassment, inappropriate behaviour, threats (let me know if there's anything else)

Word Count: 1.5k words

A/N: Thank you for the request love! I'm sorry it took so long. I hope you like it!

Jack Thompson was, for lack of a better term, a pain in your ass.

From his smug smirk that made you want to punch him, his constant tendency to stick his nose where it didn't belong to his sexist comments(though those were surprisingly getting fewer nowadays).

The two of you often bickered, sniping back and forth over the smallest things. He'd interrupt you during conversations, roll his eyes when you made a point, and constantly try to undermine your authority. It was infuriating. You both seemed to have a natural ability to get under each other’s skin.

"I swear," you muttered, rubbing your temples. "One day, I'm going to strangle him with my bare hands."

"Preferably not in front of any witnesses," Peggy added dryly, her voice full of the amusement that always seemed to follow when she played devil's advocate.

You grumbled. "It's worse that I must spend the entire day with him too."

She hummed in acknowledgement. "Best of luck to you, dear."

Common interests lead you to work with the FBI today. Unfortunately, Peggy and Sousa were busy with something else so it was just going to be you and Thompson. And the FBI agents that were likely all male.

---

It was straightforward—a joint operation between the SSR and the FBI to gather intel on a potential still active Hydra cell. The agents from the FBI were supposed to be professional, but as you walked into the briefing room with Jack, you felt the eyes on you.

One pair of eyes particularly frayed your nerves. You would learn that his name was Agent Martin Wells. You didn't like the way he was looking at you the entire time. You were used to lingering looks on you, for being a woman in a male-dominated field, for your figure, you were used to it all, but that doesn't mean it made you any less uncomfortable.

It was only for a day though. Hopefully.

You tried to ignore it, focusing on the mission details, but the weight of Agent Wells’ gaze felt like it was pressing on your skin. It wasn’t the curious or professional kind of stare—it was unsettling, almost predatory. And you hated it.

You caught Jack shooting glances at you too, but you couldn’t tell if he noticed what you were feeling or if he was just being his usual annoying self.

"You’re sure you’re okay with this, Thompson?" You snapped, trying to focus on something else, trying to keep the growing discomfort from showing.

Jack didn’t look at you directly. He seemed too busy listening to one of the other agents. But when you shot him a pointed glare, his smirk faded slightly, just enough for you to see the seriousness flicker in his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

You hesitated for just a second. “Wells... He’s been staring at me like I’m some kind of... target.”

Jack followed your gaze and immediately stiffened. You saw the flash of irritation in his eyes before he returned his attention to the briefing.

"You don’t have to worry about him," Jack said in a low voice, though there was an edge to it. "Focus on the mission. We’ll be fine."

You weren’t sure if it was the way he said it or the rare softness in his tone, but something in you relaxed. Still, you weren’t about to let your guard down around Wells.

---

The mission itself was typical, though you felt like Wells was deliberately trying to edge closer to you every chance he got. Whether it was brushing against you when you were organizing supplies or standing a little too close when you were discussing strategy, the man’s presence was inescapable.

"Do you always have to get so close?" You couldn’t help but mutter at one point, after his shoulder practically bumped into yours for what felt like the hundredth time.

Wells flashed you a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "I’m just trying to help, sweetheart."

You recoiled, not liking the way the term of endearment rolled off his tongue. "I can handle myself just fine," you snapped, keeping your voice steady.

But Wells wasn’t deterred. He leaned in a little closer, his breath warm against your ear as he said, "I’m sure you can. But we both know how hard it must be for a woman like you to keep up with all this... real work."

You felt your pulse quicken, the heat of anger rising in your chest. You clenched your fists, but before you could respond, a voice sliced through the air.

"Hey, Martin," Jack’s voice rang out, and you could feel the change in his tone. Gone was the casual arrogance, replaced with a low growl that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. "Get the hell away from her."

Wells blinked, taken aback by the force in Jack’s words, but he didn’t back down right away. Instead, he gave Jack a grin, clearly not understanding the situation. "What’s the matter, Thompson? Jealous?"

"Jealous?" Jack took a step forward, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "No. But I take care of my agents."

His agent?

There was a tense moment of silence, the two men locked in some unspoken standoff. You weren’t sure if you should be relieved that Jack was stepping in—or if you should be annoyed that he was making such a scene over something you could’ve handled yourself.

Finally, Wells seemed to get the message. He huffed, stepping back with an exaggerated sigh. "Alright, alright. I’m just trying to make conversation, no need to get all worked up, Thompson."

But Jack wasn’t having it. His jaw was set hard, his hands clenched at his sides, the muscles in his back taut with restraint. "If you make one more comment like that, Wells, you won’t like the consequences. Got it?"

Wells grumbled something under his breath and turned, clearly not thrilled to be called out, but at least he backed off.

After a moment, you speak up. "I don't think threatening someone from the FBI is a good idea."

Jack rolls his eyes. "I can deal with it if it comes to that."

Another moment of silence. Then-

"Thank you. For that. You didn't need to-"

Jack’s gaze softened for a moment. "It’s nothing. Don’t let that guy think he can get away with being a creep."

"Yeah," you muttered, looking away. The last thing you wanted was to admit that his gesture meant something to you—hell, you didn’t even want to acknowledge that, despite everything, it felt like he might’ve just earned a little bit of your respect. "Let's get this over with."

---

Over the following days, the dynamic between you and Jack was noticeably different. You still exchanged barbs from time to time, but there was no longer the same hostility. There was a kind of truce between you, one that neither of you acknowledged outright, but you both felt it.

Then, a week later, you were finishing up some reports at your desk when Jack showed up.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice casual but with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place. "You busy?"

You glanced up from your papers. "Not really. What’s up?"

He hesitated, rocking on his heels for a moment. "Look, I know this is probably going to sound strange, but... you want to grab a drink? You know, after work. Just the two of us."

The invitation took you by surprise. Jack was offering to spend time with you outside of work? It didn’t seem like him at all.

You raised an eyebrow, studying him for a moment. "You mean like... outside of work?" you asked, skeptical.

He rolled his eyes, oh you hated when he did that. "Yeah, I know, I’m asking you to do something other than argue with me for once. But I figured we could talk. Without all the usual bickering."

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Jack Thompson, suggesting a drink. And—dare you admit it?��you found the idea... appealing. Maybe it was the way he’d apologized so genuinely. Or maybe you were just curious about what had caused the shift in his behavior.

"Alright," you said, finally relenting. "But I’m warning you now, no annoying comments. I’m only agreeing to this because I’m feeling generous."

He smirked, clearly relieved. "Of course. I wouldn’t dream of annoying you."

He walked off after that and you were left staring at the reports trying to figure out what just happened.

Of course, Peggy chooses that moment to roll her chair over to you. "Did-did Thompson just ask you out on a date? And you accepted?"

"What? No! It's not a date-"

She looked at you like you had grown another head "Right. When is getting drinks and just talking outside of work not a date?"

You opened your mouth, closed it, opened it again. "Oh my god. It is a date, isn't it?"

Then, to the surprise of you and the horror of Peggy, you smiled. "Hm."

Peggy's eyes widened as she leaned back in her chair. "You’re smiling," she said slowly, as though she were trying to comprehend the concept. "I never thought I’d see the day."

You flushed slightly, trying to fight back a small grin but failing miserably. "Shut up, Carter," you muttered, focusing your attention on the papers in front of you as if they held the answers to all the world’s problems.

You really were going on a date with Jack Thompson. The idea didn't sound that bad.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Okay so, I have a headcanon that Alastor's distortion ability means that Vox just straight up can't see the guy properly even if they're face to face.

Imagine the rage you'd feel, the frustration and sorrow and anger, of knowing that what you want is literally within reach but what's the point if you can never SEE it properly?

What if the only time the distortion stops is if Alastor wills it, or he's unconscious and unable to project it. And after all this obsession, after everything he has had to do to just get a glimpse of his old friend, his rival, the person he-... well, once upon a time and all that shit.

The pathways between desire, obsession and violence are all melted blobs of plastic in his mind, and he starts to find a perverse joy in harming the other. Soemthing Valentino encourages because of course, sinners regenerate no matter what he does to them, why not indulge?

It's also infuriating because it stops Vox from using his hypnotic suggestion on the other. Sure, it hasn't worked before... but that was then, and he's almost more powerful and influential than any other overlord around these parts now.

He itches to try, to see if this time he could win. If he could turn things back to how they Should be, how he Planned for them to Be. Not whatever this shitshow is.

His ace up the sleeve comes in the form of the drone footage from the battle. Alastor would rather die a second time than allow that to fall into the public domain, of course... all ego, Vox would think with not the smallest iota of irony.

A lure, a call and a taunt across the radio waves that draws the other close enough to blur before him. Triumph spreads through Vox's chest, a smug satisfaction that even the snide dismissal he receives can diminish.

What does he want?

You.

A sharp laugh stings something inside that felt too fleshy to be purely mechanical. He clenches sharp talons into fists, fans whirring as he fights for calm.

'Alright fucker, what are you willing to do to keep your dirty little secret off the air?' he needles.

"...why, nothing, my dear box. If you release it, I will sway the peoples to my side... after all, I faced down Adam and you... watched."

Enraged, he lashes out, fury rising as the other dodges with ease. Or, no... wait, his mechanical mind caught something and he runs back footage from a camera across the room. Hah, fucker's still hurt, isn't he?

Well, no need to share that he knows, just yet.

He presses on, using just enough telegraphing to let Alastor know where he intended to strike and how... subtly moving the other in the right direction. He sees, SEES with a hundred hidden eyes, the distortion starting to fade... the tremble in the rigid limbs, the taut way the other refuses to bend and twist as he normally would. The hint of sweat on a brow and the quiet wheeze with each breath.

"C'mon Al, I promise that if you were to just... forget all the mess of the past and join the Vees, we could absolutely help you turn this PR nightmare into a campaign to get that shitty hotel at full capacity. You just need to play along for a bit, and maybe consider letting us try out some modern tech with you. It won't burn."

'I'd rather no- ack!'

Vox grins wildly as the cables of his command chair lash out about the other Overlord, ensnaring whatever it could to tangle the man into motionlessness. Normally, the other would drop into shadow... but this... was a victory unanticipated, it looked like Al couldn't.

He pulsed low currents through the cables, forcing the other to focus on not screaming instead of bantering with Vox. The urge to laugh maniacally came and went. Subsumed with momentary awe at this accomplishment... at the glimpses of Alastor's form he saw between the electricity. Fuck, he'd missed that face.

"Hey, just... stop fighting and we can get the ball rolling on our new collaboration, right?" Vox filled the silence, his hands outstretched to take the half-glitched face between his palms. "Shhh, c'mon, just give it up already. You know this is the best thing for us."

"There isn't. An. US." Alastor ground out, limbs shuddering in the metallic web. His next words fell into garbled static so distorted that Vox couldn't even guess at the sentence... but the world seemed to snap silent a second later anyway.

The distortion fell away, as the fully-defined exhausted expression of the Radio Demon came into his view. The man finally unable to cloak any longer as electricity crackled thrrough his veins and blood dribbled through several layers of attire.

Vox's heart thundered, his eye swirling, body tensed like a spring about to launch skyward. "Al... I see you. Fuck, I can-... no, just-..."

He takes a breath, letting the sensation of his power slip into place like a glove, even as he made certain to capture the gorgeous features from every angle for the future in case this didn't work out...

"It's okay, Al. You're going to be okay, and you're going to be part of the Vees... part of the Us we were always meant to be." Something hot pooled in his abdomen at the sight of swirling irises overtaking the radio dials in those beautiful, sinister eyes. "We can take as long as you want, I'm patient, promise. But the Radio Demon will join the future, if I have to drag you kicking and screaming into it..."

He laughs, but the sound trails off as the wet plip-plip-plop sound of crimson striking the metallic floor can be heard, and the subtle shuddering under his hands became more pronounced.

"Shit... seems like he hit you harder than we thought, huh? It was hot as fuck, but the Vees take care of their own. You're going to listen to my voice now, and push the pain aside to somewhere you can't feel it anymore... then when I say the word, you're going to take a nice long nap while we fix this mess you made of yourself. Get you all sorted out, huh? Then when you wake up again, you'll remember how badly you wanted to join us, and everything we talked about just now. Okay?"

Alastor shuddered, one hand clenching like he was tugging at an invisible string. Something green flared to life briefly.

"...lotte... lp" the Radio Demon mumbled around the hypnotic hold.

Vox wags a finger in front of that angular face, grinning at th audacity. "Uh-uh, that's being sneaky, Mister. I think it's time you went to Sleep."

As the form slumped, Vox took the other into his arms.

Well, if the stubborn beautiful bastard had really summoned someone here maybe he could use them to get a message back to that Princess and her father. See if they'd be open to a little deal or two for good press, if one of them could heal Adam's little 'love tap' here.

No sense going to all the trouble of capturing his beloved nemesis if the man died immediately of angelic stupidity.

He hurled them into the electicity stream through a nearby camera and stepped out into the combined Vee suites in the penthouse.

"Daddy's home, and he brought a friend!" he crows, as Valentino and Velvette move over to assess the situation.

"No fuckin' way, I can actually get a picture of the red-haired ponce!" Vel exclaimed, and lowered the phone. "Maybe not now, cause that's a right bloody mess, but soon... I'm going to have the rarest selfie in all of the 7 rings, I will. Might wanna let me have a go with my threads though, looks a bit fucked up, there."

"If you don't mind, babydoll, I would love for you to fix whatever mess he's got going on..." Vox responds, using cables to keep Valentino's hands from straying too far in any direction on the deer. "Hey, this is mine first, you know that, look but don't touch too much right?"

"Aw, but Voxxy, I wanna see what he's hiding..." Valentino grinned, but pulled back his hand as the wetness of the shirt made contact. "Ugh, maybe later then... I'm all for fluids, baby, but that's just gross."

The contact jarred the Radio Demon back to some level of wakefulness, earning Val a glare from Vox. The moth rolled his eyes and exhaled pink smoke over the deer, dulling the sharpness of whatever discomfort Alastor may have been experiencing.

"See? I can be kind, Voxxy... you let me know if you need more of that to keep him settled. Not that I don't want to see the feisty side, but... well, he looks a little close to second-death, which is a bit of a turn off."

Vel storms back in with a first aid kit the size of an imp in one arm and the Anti-Horni-Val squirt bottle in the other. He gets doused.

"Okay, everyone fuck off and let me fix this."

----

Across town, Charlie paused mid song as the chain at her wrist flared pitifully, tugged upon in something that felt like suffocating panic clawing up the back of her throat.

"Char...lotte... he...lp..." seemed to fill her mind, and she knew at once who had called her. Her head throbbed, unused to hearing the other through the links.

Vaggie stepped forwards, nearly slamming into Lucifer, as they both tried to find out what had happened. Why she'd stopped singing.

The link on her wrist flared again, and her father's eyes filled with rage.

She waved them off, desperately.

"Listen, I don't know how or what's going on, but I just heard Alastor in my head asking for help... and he sounded really hurt. We... we have to go find him."

"No."

"Dad, I'm going."

"Do you feel a compulsion to go anywhere specific?" Vaggie asks.

"...somewhere full of... my skin is prickling like there's static all over me now." Charlie replies, trying to wrack her brain for a clue.

"Reckon he's probably trapped at Vee Tower, and this has something to do with Vox, Princess." Husk interjects, holding a frantic Niffty in one arm as he entered. "That's where the chains are running to when we summon 'em. And if he's there, we gotta move fast. I hate the bastard but... he don't deserve what Vox will force him to do if he gets the chance."

"Hey, King of Hell? Can I speak now? Good. Charlie, forget the deer. I can get you a new overlord!"

"Dad, NO. It's part of our Favour anyway... I would have to go even if I wasn't planning on doing it anyway because he's my friend.

"...fine. But if he's pulling a prank, I'm gonna pull... his legs off and beat him with them."

"Well fuck me sideways..." Husk mumbles, catching attention from around the room. He turns around his phone screen. "Angel just took this, said Vox came into the penthouse with Alastor, and Val was so interested in the situation the moth forgot he was there. Looks pretty bad."

Charlie tugged at her hair as the image depicted an alarming amount of blood on her hotelier... and something wrong with his eyes. Then it hits her. "Wait, how did Angel take this photo? He does the..." she wiggled "to photos and videos."

"That's never a great sign." husk agrees, and rolls his shoulders, releasing Niffty. "Well, let's go beat the shit out of three overlords who need a reminder on the concept of consent, I guess."

Niffty was the first through the portal, her laughter shrill as the world filled with the sound of Valentino's horrified screaming, and the wet slick-crunch-slush sound of a blade in motion.

"Alright, hands off the bellhop, that's hotel property..." a bored Lucifer mumbles, blasting the sinners away from the red overlord on the couch. He glances at the wound, and winces as a sudden swell of Adamness washes over him. "Ugh, okay, I'm gonna throw up... and we'll need to patch that up later, alright? Don't you die on us, Busboy, because if I have to take on your paperwork tasks for the hotel I can and will launch myself into the Abyss between Worlds. So many fucking forms, I swear..."

As long as he's talking, the King doesn't have to acknowledge any kindnesses done to the daughter stealing motherfucker he's basically carrying out of there.

"Char-char, got your deer, let's go home!"

She's got Vox pinned under the trident, wrath on her face as he frantically tried to hypnotise her. "I think we can help you, Mr Vox, with our therapeutic approach to making Good Choices. Maybe Valentino too... a lesson can be learned about keeping our hands to ourselves, maybe?"

"Charlieeeeeeeeee my darling, we can kill them later, let's just go before my shirt turns red."

"Oh, oh shit... that's not great, huh?" Charlie is back to her regular self, frantic once more.

Vaggie, on the other hand, pointed her spear at the barely alive Valentino. "Hand it over, fucker. I'll call Niffty off if you give me the contract..."

He spat at her feet and used a truly heinous slur. But after a few more gentle prompts in the form of Niffty's knife and the spear, he grumblingly handed over the scroll binding Angel to himself.

"Much obliged."

"t-ttttake him from meeeee3333 and I will make sur3333e all of Hell sees that fight!" Vox yelled, desperate as control spiralled away. "He333'll be killed the next ttttti1111me3 you let him out of your s-iiii-iiight, Hell lov33335ss a chance to ki111lll an Overlo0000rdddd when they're WEAK!"

Vaggie swings her spear around. "What are you on about?"

Charlie has her eyes narrowed. "I think... when he fought Adam, something went wrong and he had to leave... and Mr Vox was watching. But we're not leaving him here. You can release the video, but hell will go through me first to get to him, to any of my friends."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Give me 45 seconds without all this drama and I'll have this fixed. What were you gonna do with it, stitch it closed and hope for the best with your little brain trick keeping the pain away? Now THAT'S weak planning at its finest."

"Yer a fuckin' creep, Vox... so we're going. Stay classy." Husk grins, tugging a stunned angel with one hand and holding a writhing Niffty by the back of her dress with the other. "Don't forget, we can always release Niff back into yer space anytime, and you gotta sleep eventually... so best back off. You know she loves Al almost as much as you think you do. Not a fan of you tryin' to hurt him, got me?"

That blank, feral eyeball falls on Vox. "He... hurt Sir?"

The knife raised pointedly.

Vox felt he was about to Download in his tailored slacks.

Charlie clapped, "Okay veryone, let's go home!" she chirped. Her eyes shinging as her brain caught up with the fact everyone had worked together to achieve this goal.

They stepped through the portal in a clump of bodies, leaving behind a decimated tower and at least one half-dead overlord.

Vel couldn't help herself. "Well that could have gone better."

Vox briefly thought about electrocuting her... but first he needed to switch pants.

----

etc.

[agentplutonium]

Small Porter scene/character study because I find him very interesting. Depicts Porter coming home to Treasure after the Summit. I’m also blorbo-fying Porter here. Just a lil bit.

Porter, in an attempt to destress from the night's events, found himself at Treasure's doorstep. He wasn't sure why this was his first instinct. They technically shouldn't even have known about him. However, there was just-

The door opened, and Treasure was standing in front of him. "Are you going to keep standing there? Someone's gonna call the police thinking you're a serial killer or something."

"Maybe they'd be right," Porter said, ignoring how ironic it was to say, "You're the one that decided to stick around a Vampire."

"Get in here," Treasure said, suppressing a giggle while they reached out for him.

Porter let himself be dragged inside, the smallest of smiles stretching at his lips. Once the door closed behind him his lips were on Treasure's, causing the smallest of gasps to hitch in their chest. Their arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer.

A sigh slipped past their lips when he pulled away, a grin on their face. "How was that family thing?" "As boring as I expected," Porter drawled. "I missed you."

"Missed me?" Traesure repeated, sounding smug.

"Or something like that," Porter teased. Treasure pushed themselves up to meet his lips again. Porter let himself sink into the feeling of it. revelled the warmth against him, how soft their lips felt, how willingly they let themselves be moulded by him.

Treasure's hands slid over his shoulders, down his chest to the buttons on his shirt, slowly unbuttoning it.

The king didn't get a chance to react to the stab before his head skidded across the floor. There was a rush of air before he was picking a fight with Vincent. All eyes were on them. Or at least enough.

'That's right,' Porter would think, 'keep looking.'

Vincent, looking distraught, almost in tears. He shouldn't have had to hear this. William should have told him something more than what he knew. William was his friend, but this seemed cruel.

"He sees me as a friend, and you as a child. His child."

Porter was taking Treasure's hands away before they could get too far. "As much as I love being able to take you," he said, "I can't tonight. It wouldn't be fair to you if I tried."

"That's okay," Treasure said genuinely, smiling at him. "Do you want to watch my show with me? I'd still love to have your company."

"Of course I would, Treasure."

It wasn't long before Treasure was curled up against him, the two of them watching whatever they had on. Porter wasn't paying attention. Not after what he's done. Treasure was oblivious to his distracted state.

He'd do anything for William. He would stand by him until the end of time. It is what Porter owed him, after everything that William did for him. After picking him off of the streets and taking him in like a feral cat. But this murder was having more of an effect on him than he thought. He wasn't sorry. He doesn't think he'd ever be sorry, but the point remained the same. Seeing Vincent react the way he did made him squirm.

'Vincent just didn't understand,' he'd tell himself. 'He hasn't been alive long enough to.'

He wasn't sure how much he believed himself.

Treasure shifted beside him, drawing his focus back to them.

"I don't know if I'll make you happy," Porter had warned them when they started whatever this was. "I'll try. For you, I will try."

"That's all I need," They had replied, that smile he loved so much showing itself again.

He doesn't understand why they did it. They were this... this force. It pulled him in, locking him in place, and he just couldn't get enough of them. This hasn't happened to him before. This amount of devotion that he felt. Was it natural? To feel this way about someone so soon? Were his feelings fake? Surely they weren't. He did use Treasure's existence to fuck with Vincent a bit, but that didn't mean they were ever part of the ruse he had going for himself. He wouldn't let them be that close. Not yet. They were still so new to the whole magic concept as it was, it was dangerous for them.

Porter held them closer, resting his head atop theirs. He can figure this out later. Right now, his job was to protect them. To take care of them.

And, by the gods, was he prepared to worship them.

[captain-mj]

Ooohhh how the general deserved that backhand.

Can we get part two? Maybe shepherd corners graves and price witnesses graves in action? He did say he’d just needs to beat him hard enough. Graves supremacy <3

Maybe price is so in love with graces after he saw him hand shepherds ass to him that he can’t help but bandage his hand and worship him a little bit?

Yeth.... Yeth I can

Part 1

Price followed Graves around after that. He liked to pretend that it was him just watching out for him, but really it was that ever since he had said he'd beat Shepherd into learning, he couldn't take his eyes off him. Not to be a hypocrite, he kept it professional and never touched Graves outside the normal every day brushes a normal person has. Even that was kept to a relative minimum if it could be helped.

Though lately, it really couldn't be helped. Price felt like no matter what he did, they seem to be brushing against each other or pressed right up against each other. Twice during the past week they were stuck right next to each other, Price's chest to Graves's front, on the elevator. Graves would usually lean into him to get away from everyone else and Price had to pretend he was fine and wasn't having a hard time breathing.

Shepherd's behavior escalated and Price was reminded it once again how much of a bitch he was. He continued lingering around Graves and somehow, he ended up with his hand around his back that day. Graves didn't seem to bind, leaning in the smallest bit. Graves had a grin on his face, like a cat who just stole a fish.

A small throwaway comment made by Gaz. "You two look like an old married couple." Quickly had Price pulling away.

"I'm not that old." Graves laughed it off and smiled at Price. He turned back to what they were doing, but Price kept his hands firmly behind his back in a parade style.

Price stepped away from him. Could've only been for a minute. If it wasn't for the fact that it didn't make sense, he would've thought Graves waited until he wasn't around. Shepherd had been rather shameless in his flirting, not particularly caring that he, or anyone for that matter, was right there, but he may have been toning it back. Regardless, whatever happened in those few minutes were lost on Price.

What wasn't lost on him was seeing Graves pummeling him. It wasn't rage or blind fury. It was calculated. He could see the way he made each hit where Shepherd had tried to defend but then left open. A methodical beat down. His body coiled back like a spring before landing the next punch. Something was slightly feral about him that made Price appreciative. Though appreciative of what exactly, he wasn't sure.

Price let it go on a lot longer than he should, but fuck was it satisfying. Graves was a dangerous man. A right bastard at time. But you don't become a commander of an entire mercenary group for no reason.

Shepherd had a lot of blood on him. Unfortunately, it was mostly from his broken nose, not anything else.

He eventually grabbed him, playing up the idea that he had to drag Graves off, even though Graves clearly let him. Didn't even put up a fight. Someone else helped Shepherd to the infirmary.

Graves hung in his arms like a dead weight. He looked incredibly smug, even though his hands were dripping blood.

Price took him to his room. Thanks to his teams... tendencies, he kept bandages and other medical items in his room so they could go to him if for any reason they didn't want to go to medical. Felt smarter than leaving them with nowhere else to go.

Graves stared at him hard until he saw the bandages. He didn't quite relax but there was a quick realization and then his hands were being held out.

Price was gentle. He started with a cloth to wipe away any blood. Most of it was from Shepherd, but several of his knuckles on each hand were split.

"Gonna have to bandage it." He was sure Graves could, but without full use of either of his hands, it would be time-consuming and not as good.

Graves nodded and continued to hold them in front of Price. He winced at the antiseptic. "Stuff is always so cold." Price smiled at him and patted his hands clean again. He slowly wrapped his hand, being as gentle as possible.

Graves was staring at him. Not trying to hide it either. It felt like a weight over him.

"Thank you."

Price just nodded and moved to the next hand. Clean, antiseptic, clean, bandage. An easy thing to remember. He turned back to Graves to talk and they were close. Really close. He could count Graves's eyelashes.

Price glanced at his mouth and Graves noticed, smiling. "You alright, John?"

Price shrugged. "He's going to be so embarrassed. Probably keep his mouth shut about it which is good."

"Why would he be embarrassed?" Graves asked immediately, looking at Price like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"I just mean you're not a soldier." Price quickly tried to explain.

Graves leaned in. "Would you be embarrassed?" He purred it and looked up at him, eyelashes batting.

"No. No, I most certainly wouldn't."

Graves leaned in and Price finished closing the gap. The kiss was soft. There were no fireworks or explosions. It just felt soft. Connection.

"Been waiting for you to do that." Graves admitted when they pulled back.

"I didn't want to come across as creepy." Price sounded sheepish.

Graves laughed and shook his head before leaning back in. They kissed again and Price gently cupped Graves's hands. "You're going to have to be careful. Don't want you to get an infection." He traced the bandaging lightly.

"John, I know how to take care of some split knuckles."

"And yet you let me do it."

"Maybe I just wanted your attention." Graves smiled at him.

Price fought down a blush. "You could just ask next time, love."

Graves visibly froze before turning a gorgeous pink color. "I like when you call me that."

[eternal-love-song]

A Home To Return To

It had been six months since he'd last set foot in the country and three months since he sent a letter.

Rantaro comes home, Kokichi and Kirumi are there to greet him. Unsurprisingly, they're a both a bit perturbed by how long he's been away.

[Kokichi/Rantaro/Kirumi] or [Kokichi & Rantaro & Kirumi] [Established Relationship, Post VR AU, Ambiguous Relationship, Rantaro POV, Reconciliation]

Written for @dr-rarepair-week-blog Caring for the other

It was the middle of summer when he returned. It had been six months since he'd last set foot in the country and three months since he sent a letter. He felt a little bad about that, honestly. He always forgot to write when he got a good lead and was pretty bad at keeping up with the time when he was on his own.

He looked like a stranger when he walked up to the door of the large mansion. His hair had grown out a lot since he was last here, too busy to cut it and then too distracted to notice how long it had gotten until he was on the plane. He had lost half the luggage he left with, leaving him with just one large bag hefted over his shoulder holding a little more than the essentials. He was sure to get over that. Luckily he traveled light, so there weren't too many important things he could lose while traveling.

He knocked on the door, his keys being one of the many things that he had misplaced. It took a minute before anyone answered, even though he heard plenty of commotion inside. When the door finally moved, cracking open the smallest margin, all he could spot was a pink eye half hidden by long brown hair. The girl examined for a moment before saying, "We don't want any," and trying to close the door in his face.

"Wait, wait, wait!" He cried, pressing against the door to keep it from closing. "I need to get in!"

"No soliciting," she hissed, pressing more of her weight against the door to keep him out.

"I'm not a salesman," he insisted. "It's me, Rantaro!"

There was a pause before she tried to push the door twice as hard, actually managing to move him back a bit. Thinking fast he added, "I-I have a meeting!"

The girl looked up at him suspiciously, eyes narrowing. "With who?"

Rantaro quickly tried to think of what the right answer was. There were several names he could use here, but after a moment, he realized that there was only ever one correct answer. "The Supreme Leader."

The girl looked smug as she finally pulled the door open. "Took you long enough, idiot."

Rantaro just sighed as she flipped her long hair over her shoulder and walked away. He adjusted his bag and stepped into the mansion, pushed the door back closed behind him.

The mansion was as packed as it always was, people moving hurriedly from room to room, the screams of frustrated teens and hyperactive children filling the air. He waved at one of his sisters walking between rooms, a train of children holding on the back of her shirt. He looked forward to catching up with her. He still hadn't found all of his sisters yet, but he hadn't given up on looking, not yet. But first, there was someone else he needed to talk to.

He headed to the dining room, surprised to find that it was nearly empty. They must have had lunch already for it to be this empty. Luckily for him, both of the people that he needed to speak to were already there.

Kokichi slammed his hands on the table, rattling the tea set that sat before him, as he pushed himself to his feet. The chair scraped as harshly against the floor as Kokichi's glare did against Rantaro. "Look who finally decided to show up!"

Kirumi looked up from her sweeping, a small frown on her lips. She very carefully put the broom aside, leaning it against the wall and stepping around the small pile of dust that she had been gathering. Her eyes were trailing over him before she'd even reached his side. She reached out for one of his arms and then the other, brusquely checking him for injuries before dropping down to do the same quick inspection on his legs. Once she determined that he was fine, she stood back up, subjecting him to the full force of her gaze.

"You didn't write." That was all she said but the quiet chastisement hit him even harder than Kokichi's glare. He knew that Kokichi would forgive him a bit more easily than Kirumi.

"I'm sorry," he told her.

Kirumi didn't accept his apology. She walked back over to where she had left the broom, picked it up, and returned to her work as if she had never stopped.

"You have a lot of nerve to walk in here after not contacting us for weeks," Kokichi said, still glaring. Kokichi moved around the table and at first Rantaro thought that he was going to storm over the way Kirumi had, but no. All he did was take a spot in front of Kirumi, cross his arms, and glare. It took him a minute to realize that he was protecting Kirumi from Rantaro. Geez, were they really that mad.

Rantaro scratched the back of his head with a guilty laugh. "Guess I really messed up, huh?"

Kokichi's eyes narrowed. That had obviously been the wrong response. "You're lucky we don't kick you out of here!"

Rantaro smiled. Despite how mad they were at him, it still warmed his heart to see how close they had become. "You wouldn't do that," he said softly, but confidently. "A Supreme Leader never leaves anyone behind, right?"

It was something Kokichi had said many times. He used to think that it was a lie, an exaggeration at best, but in all the years that they had been together, all the years since he had joined Dice, it had remained true. Even those that chose to leave, Rantaro had seen Kokichi jump to help them when they called. Once you were a member of Dice, you were a member for life.

Rantaro could tell that his statement was very well appreciated, so he moved on to defending himself. "I didn't mean to go so long without writing," he told them. "I ran into some trouble, and…"

"And that's why you should write," Kokichi interrupted. "We can't help you if we don't even know where you are."

He sighed and looked down. "I know."

"If something were to happen to you," Kirumi said softly, not looking at him. "We would feel the same way that you do about your sisters. You know that, correct?"

Rantaro swallowed thickly. He'd been ignoring it until now, but the guilt was starting to bubble up and wrap around him now. "I know," he said softly.

Kokichi huffed and stomped over to him, reaching up to fling his forehead, something that was only possible because of how Rantaro was hanging his head. "If you know, then don't do it again, dummy. The kids were worried too."

Rantaro rubbed the sore spot on his forehead, but he figured it was probably fair compensation. "I'll try to be more careful."

Kokichi nodded, "Good." Then his face broke out into a wide grin. "Now that you're here, we can plan a welcome back dinner! We'll let the kids decide if they want to help and you'll have to eat whatever they make, no matter how gross it is. Penalty."

Rantaro sighed. He might have seen that coming. "Alright."

"But first!" Kokichi grabbed his wrist. "You just got back, so it's off to decontamination with you!"

Rantaro didn't protest as Kokichi pulled him along. He just looked back at Kirumi, disheartened to see that she didn't even look up at him.

He had been skeptical at first, when Kokichi had asked him to join Dice. He hadn't known Kokichi that well and his reputation had preceded him from what he heard of the others, but he had agreed anyway. At worst, it was a lie and at best… Well, Rantaro would be lying if he said that he hadn't missed company since his siblings disappeared.

The fact that Kirumi had been the only other person to accept Kokichi's offer had seemed strange to him at first too. If Kokichi was really as bad as everyone said he was, then he couldn't imagine someone like Kirumi taking him up on his offer. It hadn't taken long for things to become clear though. Not once Kokichi told him more about Dice.

Some things about their backstories might have been fake, Rantaro didn't actually have twelve sisters, just five, and Kirumi hadn't been prime minister, but not all of it was. Kokichi was still a leader, Kirumi still wanted to help people, and Rantaro still needed a place to come home to.

The pseudo-orphanage that was Dice was a better place than Rantaro could have made it on his own. He had provided the place, his family home was empty, both his parents kept themselves busy oversees and his sisters were scattered. He'd wanted someone to share the space with. Kokichi had provided the members, easily rounding up what was left of Dice and rallying them, helping them recover. Kirumi provided the care.

Kokichi and Kirumi were a better team than he had thought. Underneath all the lies and childishness, Kokichi was a really good leader. He stayed on top of things, he knew how to persuade people, how to help take their mind off of things that bothered them. Kirumi, meanwhile, was better at the more domestic aspects of caretaking. The cooking, the cleaning, and making sure that Kokichi didn't get in over his head. Many nights Rantaro had found them together, heads bent close, as they talked over paperwork and budgets and other logistics that weren't his forte.

Rantaro sometimes felt like he was just a third wheel to their dynamic. But then, he could do something for them both that they couldn't do for each other. He could make them rest.

Kirumi never took a break if she could help it. Even worse, she worked when she was stressed, making her cook and clean that much harder to try and feel useful to others when she didn't feel useful to herself. Sometimes she needed him to take the broom out of her hands, force her to sit down, and massage her shoulders until she was truly relaxing.

Likewise, Kokichi looked like he was goofing off most of the time, but that wasn't really true. He worked hard to take care of others, to get them what they needed, and he would let himself get hurt if it helped someone else and never say a word about it. Kokichi needed someone that he could be himself with, that he didn't have to worry so much about, someone that he could actually talk to that wouldn't judge or worry. Rantaro didn't think he had many skills, not in comparison to them, but he could listen. He could give Kokichi a reason to slow down and rest.

Thinking about it, maybe they all balanced each other out better than he thought.

Kokichi dragged him all the way to his room, kicking the door open so that he didn't have to let go of Rantaro's hand. "We're here!" Kokichi announced as he pulled him forward. He tugged the bag off of Rantaro's shoulder and pushed him toward the bathroom. "Go! Wash off the filth of travel you grimy vagabond!"

"Kokichi, you don't have to be so forceful," he said, though he didn't resist the pushing at all. "And what about my clothes?"

"Clothes are for responsible people that don't lose their luggage on every trip," he said, making Rantaro flush with embarrassment. "Yeah, don't think I didn't notice that."

Rantaro sighed, allowing himself to be pushed into the bathroom and accepting his fate when the door was slammed behind him. Kokichi was probably going to go through his bag and take inventory of what was left. He could stop him, had done so before on the occasion he came back with presents or something personal, but he didn't have anything to hide. On the contrary, he probably didn't remember most of what he was supposed to have on him as well as Kokichi did.

It wasn't worth worrying about.

Halfway through his shower he heard the door open and when he stepped out a few minutes later, there was a stack of clothes folded by the door for him. He smiled as he went to retrieve them. They weren't something he recognized, but they were his style. Were they a gift? The thought made Rantaro smile.

Kokichi was still in his room when he came out of the bathroom, eyes downcast and kicking his feet as he sat on the edge of the bed. He looked up when the door opened and smiled at Rantaro. It was smaller than the one that he'd been given earlier, less of a lie.

"Hey," Rantaro said quietly, coming to sit on the bed beside him. "I didn't think you'd wait for me."

"Well, you still have a debriefing to do," Kokichi told him. It wasn't the bombastic proclamation that he had been making before. Maybe because they were alone now, behind closed doors where the only eyes watching them were their own.

Tentatively, he put his hand on Kokichi's, wanting to see whether or not he would pull away. He didn't, but he also didn't reciprocate the affectionate gesture, so Rantaro guessed he was still in trouble.

"You can't keep doing this, you know," Kokichi said quietly.

The words made something cold go down his spine and his hand on Kokichi's held just a little tighter. He tried to keep that worry out of his voice when he responded. "Doing what?"

"Disappearing." Kokichi met his eyes when he said it. His face wasn't the blank, emotionless mask that Kokichi often liked to wear when speaking his true feelings, but it wasn't open either. Rantaro couldn't read anything beneath the neutrality.

" I can't just give up--"

"That's not what I'm talking about," Kokichi said, interrupting him. "I wouldn't ever tell you not to look for them, you know that."

He should know that. No man left behind was practically a Dice motto. Even if no one else was with him, even if no one else believed in him, hell even if Kokichi himself didn't think Rantaro could do it, he would still never try to make him stop.

But that left him even more confused. He frowned, trying to search Kokichi's face for clues and coming up empty. "Then what…"

"Did you know Kirumi cries when you're gone?"

Rantaro's eyes widened, feeling smacked in the face by such an abrupt truth. "What?"

Kokichi's neutral expression remained in place, but his voice became harder. "The last letter you sent said that you might get into trouble and then you just went dark. How do you think she felt?"

He dropped his eyes to the floor, not wanting to keep staring at that blank face. There was nothing he could say in response. An apology didn't really cut it did it? He didn't want to make promises that he might not be able to keep. He didn't know for sure that he wouldn't one day go out and get himself in over his head.

"She tried to pretend that she wasn't bothered," Kokichi went on. "She'll say that she's sure you're fine. We'd know if anything happened. But we wouldn't, would we? You would just be gone and we'd never know why. I found her crying in the kitchen, trying to scrub imaginary stains out of the tiles because it's the only thing she thinks she can do."

"Kokichi…"

"They beg us not to let you leave, you know." Kokichi's gaze was harsh when Rantaro looked up at him, the blankness breaking apart as his anger started to rise. "Your sisters are terrified that you won't come back one day."

"I will."

"You don't know that!" Kokichi yelled. pushing himself off the bed and pulling his hand from Rantaro's. "You don't know that you'll be fine. You don't know if you'll make it back to us. You get lost or trapped or, hell, maybe you'll hit your head and get amnesia, forget all about us, and we won't even know where to look for you!"

Rantaro pulled Kokichi into his arms, surprising him so much that he went silent in Rantaro's embrace. "I'll come back," Rantaro said. "I won't leave the two of you alone."

Kokichi was stiff in his arms for a long moment before the tension finally leaked out of him a bit. He placed his hand on Rantaro's head, petting him gently. "You won't," Kokichi said softly. "One day you won't come back. How will we find you if you don't even tell us where you are."

"I'm sorry." The apology slipped out even though Rantaro decided nit to let it. The last thing he wanted was to make things worse or be called insincere.

Kokichi didn't do that though. Instead, his arms came around Rantaro, as if trying to comfort him even though Kokichi was the one upset. Or… maybe they both were. Maybe Rantaro was just as upset with himself for upsetting them as they were for being upset.

"We'll always be here for you to come back," Kokichi said. "But if something happens to you, I need a way to bring you home. What kind of supreme leader would I be otherwise."

Rantaro found himself relaxing into the embrace as well. He hadn't thought that he needed reassurance. He knew that Kokichi wouldn't really kick him out, that they wanted him around. It was still comforting to hear though. Kokichi did show affection the same way most people did. He didn't say sappy phrases or make big promises. But he did mean the things he said when he finally said them. Rantaro could go anywhere, had been nearly everywhere, but knowing that he would have a home to come back to? That meant more to him than he could ever say.

"I'm going to get you chipped," Kokichi told him.

"Probably for the best," he agreed softly.

Kokichi squeezed him once, taking comfort for himself, then he let go. "You're still on the hook for Kirumi."

"I know."

This wasn't over yet. Rantaro knew that even as Kokichi pulled away and went to the door. This had to have been boiling under the surface for a while and he'd need to do a lot more to make it right than just hand out a few apologies.

With a fortifying breath, Rantaro pushed himself to his feet and went to go see Kirumi. She was no longer in the kitchen. She wasn't in her room either, when he went to look for her. It took a few minutes of hunting around before he found her in the garden. She was on her hands and knees, pulling weeds and placing them in a basket for later disposal.

She didn't look at him, so he crouched down beside her. "Hey, mind if we talk?"

"Is there something to talk about?" she asked, her tone just a little icy.

Rantaro hung his head a bit. "I don't really know how to make this up to you," he told her. Unlike Kokichi, it was better to try and be straightforward with Kirumi when he could. She didn't always like to address her own feelings so bluntly, but when it was someone else? She'd rather you just say what you want to say than dance around it.

"I don't believe that you can," Kirumi told him. She still hadn't looked at him, eyes focused on sweeping the ground for anything that didn't belong so that she could root it out. "You cannot take back what you've already done."

"I know."

"And you can never restore the peace that I lost on those nights."

Rantaro let out a heavy sigh. "You're right." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "So what can I do?"

Kirumi took a breath, finally pausing in her weeding. She turned to look at him, expression a mix between anger and sadness. "I don't know. Anything I could tell you to do, you likely wouldn't. Anything you would do, probably won't be enough."

It hurt a bit, to see the struggle so plain on her face. He'd been gone a long time, longer than his usual trips, so he shouldn't be surprised that things were harder to deal with this time. He reached to take her hand, not at all minding the dirt from her gloves getting on her hands.

"Rantaro, no, your hands…"

"They'll be fine," he assured her. "And so will we."

Kirumi looked from their joined hands to his eyes, eyes just a bit wide with hope and surprise. "Pardon?"

"We'll be okay," he said again. "It's alright that you're upset with me. I know that… I must have worried you and Kokichi a lot. I didn't mean to do that. But I never do and it happened anyway. So… yeah, something has to change, but… that change doesn't have to be something bad."

Kirumi's hand squeezed his. "I cannot forgive you so easily," she told him. "Kokichi might, but I…"

"I know," he told her. "You're not the same, I don't expect you to react the same way."

He saw her shoulders relax and marveled at the fact that he was managing to say something that could put her at ease. He was surprised that she was so worried, but also… he wasn't that surprised at all. Kirumi wore just as many masks as Kokichi, even if hers were the opposite. She liked to seem so mature and on top of things, even when she was sad or falling apart.

Rantaro moved a bit closer to her, letting her head rest close to hers. "I'm glad to be back. I missed you. You may not believe it, but I did. I always do."

Kirumi leaned her head against his, closing her eyes. "I believe you. I just wished that…"

"That what?" he questioned softly.

"I wish when you left, you would take us with you."

Rantaro pulled back to look at her, startled by the words. "What?"

"I know it's unreasonable," she hastened to say. "Someone needs to stay here to look after everyone and… and I'm sure I'd only get in your way but…"

"You wouldn't!" he said fiercely. "You could never be in the way, Kirumi."

She smiled then, the iciness melting from her a bit. "I wish one of us was there to look after you. Kokichi and I, we have each other, but you're always alone. I think about that and I…" She shook her head. "I feel selfish even missing you, when I know that you must miss us so much more. At least we aren't alone here."

Rantaro squeezed her hand tighter. "I didn't know you felt that way."

Kirumi dropped her gaze. "I just figured… that it was something you wanted to do alone. That you would have asked us if you wanted us to come. It's just… I hate watching you leave all the time when I'm never really certain that I'll see you return."

Rantaro couldn't stand to see her this way. He thought of Kokichi and that single squeeze he gave Rantaro, unwilling to ask for comfort despite wanting it. He thought of Kirumi potentially crying alone in the night all over him. He didn't want to be the reason they felt so sad.

"Kirumi, let's have dinner alone tonight, the three of us."

"But…"

"I know that Kokichi wanted us to have a big thing, but I think that can wait a day. If… if you're willing. I just want to spend time with you. With both of you. Then… we can talk."

Kirumi finally smiled. It was a little sad, but there was relief as well. "Alright," she nodded. "Just the three of us."

It might take some time, but Rantaro would make things right. If they were going to make sure he always had a home waiting for him, he was going to make sure that they knew how much he appreciated being able to come home. And maybe it was time he finally got it through his head that he wasn't as alone as he always thought.

[likesunsetorange]

When he finally knocks how she wears certain sets with the intention of getting him to notice just for her to get embarrassed when he starts playing along and doesn’t try to hide his looking 🤭

THESE PAJAMAS!!!!!!!!!!!! why are these in particular such a pivotal thing in this au like???

but anyways fuck it drabble rahhh 🦅🦅🦅🦅 is this my drabble emoji bat signal lmao??? anyways whatever here we go!! ended up being a lil diff but i think it kinda fits the realm of what you said hehe bc i def agree he’d eventually just stop trying to hide his staring all together he’s just so brazen w it lol

ALSO HBD EREN 🥳🥳🥳

(also if u ever notice it takes me comically long to reply to your ask even tho im answering others more than likely this is probably why haha)

Eren is enjoying this shift in their dynamic more than he likes to admit—more than he's proud to admit. Going from yelling at one another, hardly even getting along, to whatever he can say they do now, a mostly amicable and peaceful dynamic within their shared space, it's nice. But aside from that, he can't say he doesn't enjoy watching Mikasa, the Mikasa who was once a constant 66 inches of never ending rage and bitchy remarks, be absolutely flustered at the smallest things.

At first, he couldn't quite pinpoint that Mikasa of all people, could possess feelings of shyness. She could bitch him around with no issue—she'd spent months doing exactly that, teetering along the lines of verbal abuse. But now that they've made amends, establishing a friendship of the sorts, and things between them have shifted to say the least, Eren can't say that he doesn't enjoy watching Mikasa fret.

The first time he notices it, he thinks it's just because of her pride. After months of being aggressive towards him, of course she's a bit hesitant at being amicable. She moves around him hesitantly, almost like a cat, coming around randomly, sometimes more than others, but it's always with a level of hesitancy behind it. It's then he hears her stutter for the first time, her words lacking their usual confidence, as she shyly stalks around him while he makes dinner until she musters up the courage to ask to help him.

Eventually, as time goes on, Eren finds that he enjoys her company. For one, Mikasa is funny (to his great surprise) and someone he finds easy to talk to, the two of them having a lot more in common than he would have ever expected. They can spend hours talking about nonsense, ranging from the shows they watch to their favorite foods, the two of them having very passionate opinions on food. h

There's also the reason that it's Mikasa, and well, she's an objectively attractive girl, something he's known since the first day he met her. And even though he tries hard to keep those thoughts locked tightly away, he can't deny that sometimes they resurface, and he finds himself staring a little harder than he'd like to admit.

He would be foolish to deny her other worldly attractiveness, and sometimes he hates that he feels a little smug, a little bit too satisfied, the way he enjoys that he’s the only one who’s constantly around her. While he’s had enough insults thrown at it him to last a lifetime, and reached levels of anger he’d like to never reach again, he also gets glimpses of her at every hour of the day, which as much as he hates to admit, makes up for it somehow.

Pretty, pretty Mikasa, with her perfectly picked outfits, not a hair out of place, and at night who parades around in her silken pajamas, something Eren’s found himself growing fond of. Every night waiting for her to trail into the living room or kitchen, so he can get his one quick glimpse, the moment he allows himself to let his thoughts run rampant before he tucks them back away.

Through his observations, when he’s not just ogling her, he also notices the way, at times, she randomly shuts down, her face scrunching up, Mikasa sometimes running off to her room suddenly at the mention of certain things, if she suddenly feels embarrassed, or if Eren accidentally lets his touch linger for too long for reasons at the time Eren couldn't quite pinpoint.

Sometimes, he thinks she may have noticed his staring, in the way that she’ll get shy if she catches him looking too long, her face flushing red at the sudden contact. But Eren is almost certain though, that she pays attention, taking note of what exactly he's staring at.

Because one day, when Mikasa somehow convinced him to share shots of soju with her, leaving Eren more loose and lax than he ever liked to be, it was then that she takes his wavering glances into consideration.

There's an almost empty glass bottle of peach soju between them sitting on her coffee table, the two of them sitting on the floor in front of it in her living room. The TV is playing some random romcom Mikasa somehow convinced him to watch, but if Eren's being honest, he hasn't been paying attention since the second shot she made him take, too busy allowing his mind to venture elsewhere—Mikasa. He finds himself trying not to stare, but he's sure his eyes keep drifting back towards her, fitted in her black silken pajamas, hair pulled back with a pink velvet headband—she's cute, he thinks—his hand resting on his head shifting in her direction, almost like a gravitational pull.

"Eren," Mikasa says, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You okay?" She asks, stiffling a laugh. "You've been staring for a minute now."

"Oh," he says, trying not to show any signs of embarassment. "I was just thinking, I guess."

"Are you a lightweight?" She asks teasingly, taking note of how his eyelids look heavy and his face a bit flushed. "I think you're way too big to be a lightweight, Eren."

"'m not a lightweight, just tired," he says trying to make excuses.

She quirks her brow, clearly not believing his lie. "Well, either way, you're staring into space. Are you staring at the wall or something?"

And maybe it was because of his lack of a filter due to the alcohol; he simply shrugs, casually replying: "Oh, I was looking at your pajamas—you never wear black ones like that—thought they looked nice," too busy in his own head to notice the redness that flashes across Mikasa's face before she whipped her head in the other direction, resuming her attention to the movie.

It's after this that Eren notices the usual colorful and pastel pajamas are traded out for an array of darker ones. At first, it's subtle, almost to where he doesn't notice, but then it becomes more apparent, to the point where he's almost certain she's seeking out his glances, lingering around just a little longer, wearing the ones that are just a little tighter, just a little shorter.

And Eren certainly doesn’t mind, but he isn’t sure if it’s because the attraction he has for her is a mutual thing, or if Mikasa just enjoys his attention, but knowing her, he’s almost positive it’s probably the latter, Mikasa always one to enjoy riling him up, and apparently now, in other ways, sincethey’re amicable.

But if it’s attention that she wants, then Eren doesn’t mind giving it to her—especially since it doesn’t seem all that surprising given her bratty nature—so he does exactly that.

Eren goes about his normal day, Mikasa for once, opting to stay home, locking herself in her room, with claims of a headache, not wanting to be bothered. He takes out Caro, runs a few errands, and even goes for a run, knowing eventually she’ll stumble into him at some point, as she always does.

The day transitions into evening, still no signs of Mikasa, which surprises him given she normally comes out to at least make dinner, but even after 8:00, once Eren’s finished making dinner and even cleaning up, there’s still no sign of her.

He takes this as a sign to go check on her, even bothering to bring her a bowl of ziti, her—their—favorite, assuming she hasn’t eaten since he has yet to see her step out of her room all day.

Eren knocks on her door, waiting for a response. He can hear the shuffling of her feet behind the door, and he’s certain he even hears Caro bark at some point, realizing that’s where she disappeared to a while ago. Finally after a few minutes, the door swings open, the sight of Mikasa taught in a black satin robe, her hair messily tied into a bun on the top of her head, and her face, usually glowy, looks tired and almost a little as if she’s visibly in pain.

“Hey…” Eren starts, taking her in. Her satin robe leaves little to the imagination, Eren’s eyes trail down longer than he normally would’ve in such close proximity to her, but Mikasa’s clearly too distraught to notice. His mind ventures to the place of what exactly she has beneath it, before he remembers why he came to her room in the first place, snapping himself out of his thoughts. “Haven’t seen you all day, brought you dinner—figured you hadn’t eaten,” he continues, nodding towards the plate in his hand.

Mikasa opens the door wider, gesturing for him to come inside, “Sorry, I haven’t been feeling all that great,” she replies quietly. Eren takes note of her dark room, save for one tiny light in the opposite corner, Caro sits at the foot of her bed, her head perching up at the sight of Eren. Mikasa resumes her place on her bed, Eren placing her plate on her desk before leaning against the wall. “Thanks for the food, I haven’t even gotten the chance to leave my room today; my migraine’s barely started to let up just now,” she says motioning towards the bed. “Caro’s kept me company for the last few hours though,” she adds, a small smile on her face.

“I thought you just had a headache?” His brows furrow, a bit of guilt starting to fill within him, knowing he would’ve asked if she needed anything earlier had he know it was that bad.

“Headache, migraine—most people just think they’re the same anyways,” she shrugs. “I don’t get them often and they’re not that bad, just have to sleep it off usually.”

“Are you feeling better now at least?”

“I am, but I should probably eat, I haven’t eaten all day, so thank you,” she replies before getting up to grab the plate he made her, her face lights up when she notices he made ziti. “You made baked ziti,” she exclaims, before taking a bite, humming in delight.

“Mhmm,” he hums in agreeance, eyeing her. Pretty, pretty Mikasa, with her sweet expressions, her out of this world beauty, and her silly little pajamas that always drive him insane. He watches as she eats her meal, too busy enjoying to notice his staring at first until she catches his gaze.

“Is something wrong?” She asks. “You’re staring.”

Eren gives her one over before he shrugs, standing up to get up to leave. “Nothing’s wrong, just looking. But feel better, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Oh, okay. Well goodnight, thanks again for the food and stuff,” she replies meekly.

He walks towards the door opening it, turning back one more time before he leaves. “Oh and I like the robe, it’s cute. You should wear it more—especially like all the other black ones.”

Eren doesn’t have to turn to face her to know that her face is red, clearly knowing her little ruse is up.

[attroxx]

❛ @mythcaels said . . . It had been early when Sasuke's eyes fluttered open, two different colored eyes had settled on the blonde's sleeping face. There was a twitch of lips, the smallest of smiles ghosting his features. The blonde's arm had been wrapped tight around him, which he tried to slowly move and get himself out of others grasp ( and eventually succeeded at though not before that arm tightened and tried to bring him closer which had to have him murmur about making breakfast to get that arm to let him go ). Now he was in the kitchen, inky locks still a bit messy from sleep, shirt and shorts that are very much not his on his form that he had borrowed after a shower before moving to make breakfast as he had said he would. Omelette's were easy, that was his goal for the morning and he knew it wouldn't be long before Naruto would be awake too. Naruto always seemed to wake up quick when he noticed the warmth that Sasuke brought had disappeared out of his grasp. He looks down at shirt that is not his own, knowing the blonde is going to get a kick out of him wearing Naruto's bright colored clothes rather than his dark colors he's known for. He hears footsteps and knows Naruto is fully awake now, though he doesn't turn away from his task at making breakfast, instead just focuses on it and waits to see how the blonde will react to the sight before him when he enters the kitchen. ❜

𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐓. maybe it was subconscious but naruto felt far more at ease when he had an arm around sasuke. they always had to be touching per naruto's request and sasuke didn't seem to mind until he couldn't exactly get out of bed due to it. and it never took too long for naruto to notice his absence even when unconscious. the blonde rolls around a bit in search for sasuke but when he never finds him blue eyes force themselves open, blinking sleepily. where was he ? but the answer comes quick in the form of footsteps in the kitchen. anxiety settles now and naruto sits up to rub his eyes. he'd made it clear to sasuke that he could just wake him but that still has yet to happen.

still fighting off sleep he stands, a hand snaking under his shirt to scratch at the seal there. entering the kitchen he notes the smell. sasuke is a pretty good cook, he'd learned and of course he is. sasuke is good at everything he does. excitement at the thought of breakfast is enough to hold his attention, not wasting time wrapping arms around sasuke from behind. whiskered cheek rests against his shoulder, eyes closing without a word said. but the next time he opens his eyes he finally notices the shirt, orange and black . . . definitely not sasuke's.

❛ woah, is this my shirt ? ❜ when sasuke nods naruto's cheeks fill up like a wine glass, stained red. a grin is now plastered on his face, looking like he'd just won the lottery. ❛ you look so cute. ❜ the uchiha never loved the word but naruto can't help it when it's true. he leans around to get a better look at sasuke's face and chuckles at the blush adorning his cheeks too. a kiss is pressed to pale skin, feeling a bit smug now. ❛ you should wear my stuff out more, ya know ? then everyone will know you're mine . . . ❜ he teases as if the entire world didn't know already. with that he goes back to holding sasuke, resting his head onto the other's shoulder as he finishes cooking. mornings like this were never taken for granted by naruto, cherishing them each time.

unprompted asks. — always accepting.

[schleckermaul]

( 🍭 spots to kiss ) a kiss on the space between eyebrows. ueueue..... — @nicawlette

BREAK CAN TELL IT'S NIGHTTIME because he'd felt the setting sun travelling across the floor of his room, with how long they've been sitting here. it's quiet, outside. the window is open, and the air is filled with the distant humming of traffic that he's slowly gotten used to, over the last few months. as a steady background noise, it's comforting, a sign that life is still continuing. once he gets better, maybe he'll get to join it again.

   how can he care about that other part of life, when a small fraction of it has decided to stick with him, though?

   nicolette is warm, but not warm enough. warmer than him. not as warm as she could be. she, too, is hurt, and he's not a great source of heat, though he's tried his best. with his head in her lap, so that she can see his face, they've been sitting on his bed, chatting.

   it's so simple. his legs are warm from where the sun last touched them, before it disappeared entirely. her legs are tilted around his middle, giving support to his injured side, his elbows on her thighs. his own ankles crossed, he has the space and the air and the energy, to gesture and giggle and talk. about nothing and everything, everything and nothing. hours must have passed. surely, zhilan will come in soon, to interrupt their conversation, start changing their bandages, break being hassled to take his medicine.

   but that doesn't matter. right now, they are here. and nicolette giggles at something he's said, and his hair brushes her stomach as he tilts his head to look up, as if he could truly see the way a laugh lights up her face. he feels it, anyways, basks.

' and they believed you? wasn't your ... ' she pauses, and break feels her arm move as she makes a dismissive gesture. ' everything good enough for some questioning? '

   he laughs, taps the heel of his foot against his ankle. raises one hand to tangle it in the one she wiggled around, trying to find a word for his everything. ' question me? the mad hatter? please, they weren't insane. people were terrified of me. '

   smug as they come, satisfaction settles on his expression, folding their fingers together. ' so if i said i lost the thing during a cake fork accident, nobody investigated it. '

   which is still a funny running joke to keep going around the island. anytime somebody realizes he's missing his left eye, it's a race to the bottom. what's the worst explanation he could come up with, and how much of it will they believe, if he just keeps adding details? humans are silly like that, get shy and awkward, don't dare to poke holes into a story that has the smallest chance of being true.

   stroking a few fingers of his free hand through his bangs, he hums. with the sun gone, the moon is now shining in, cool on their skin. his eye shines a little brighter in the darkness, red stark and deep. ' or, you know, if i told somebody it was stolen to be used as a cursed talisman ... accusing me of lying would be rude! even reportable. pandora didn't take those things lightly. '

' what!, ' nicolette exclaims, and break is glad for the offense in her words, the soft strength of the argument she's making. it'll be a long and slow recovery, though somehow, sitting here together might have helped a bit. she seemed tired when she arrived. ' cursed? just a random eye? who would fall for that? '

   ' well, they're red. '

' yeah, it's fancy! '

   ' no, that's— '

okay, now he's laughing at her, and she notices immediately, gently tapping the top of his forehead with her fingers, offended at him, this time. ' what! explain it. '

   ' it's ... ' break has to let go of her hands for this, stretching out his arms as if he were making shadow figures on the ceiling. as if he could reach for the lights of the abyss, like this. instead, he gestures a small circle. ' in my world, if you had red eyes, ' making a peace symbol with one hand, ' you were a child of ill omen. laypeople considered us cursed. which, of course, is not true. it just means that ... ' it means a lot of things. it'd be hard to explain in detail. ' we were different, and people didn't like it. '

   ' oh, ' is all nicolette says at first, of which break can't decipher the tone, as he folds his hands on his chest. ' that's so dumb. i'm pretty sure people were just jealous because of how cool they look. '

   which makes him snort, chest not heavy, legs still light. he burrows himself a little deeper into the blankets beneath, the small nest he's made himself with her legs around him. ' i'm sure yours are very cool, as well, lady nicolette. ' is he making fun of himself, or of her? doesn't seem to matter terribly much, because she laughs anyways.

' a lady with pretty purple eyes, huh? i can believe that. '

   break pauses. ' yours are purple? '

   he feels as nicolette leans over him, her hair cascading around his face like two seperate waterfalls. it doesn't smell as fancy as usual ... no shampoo. it seems to just be the scent of her, now. he tugs at a few strands automatically. ' duh. you didn't see? '

   ' no need to bully the blind man, now— '

   there's no chance to complain any more than that, because nicolette is framing his face, now, both of her hands on his cheeks. it smells like bandage and antiseptic, but the moment after it's just warm, and bitter, and mellow, as she leans in to press a kiss between his eyebrows. or, really, more of a smack. is she wearing lipstick?

   break felt the smile in that kiss, so when nicolette tries to lift her head again, his own hands come up, tugging at her hair until she comes back down. he looks at her. he can't see. it doesn't matter. he is in a little cave, between waterfalls, and he's safe.

   feeling his way across her face, ignoring the mild complaints at poking a nose or a corner of an eye, break explores for the quickest moment. feels the briefest hint of her scar, over her left eye. the purple eye, apparently. leaning up a bit, careful not to hurt his ribs, he kisses the tip of her nose in return.

   ' purple eyes are also important in my world, ' he admits, and then he lets nicolette settle back into the pillows stacked up behind her, so she doesn't bust any of her stitches for their shenanigans. one of her hands stays in his hair, and he lets her.

   ' how so? are they all sexy and powerful? '

   ' ha. it's actually an indication that you're connected to the abyss. where the both of us were, when my eye actually got stolen. ' giving them a moment, to work through that memory without panicking, break continues: ' those with purple eyes were, most of the time, at the end of a long line of people capable of interacting with its core. the beginning of all. the ending of all. '

   the little girl, dancing in a rain of blood, purple eyes so bright and kind. break smiles fondly. ' only children of ill omen and those particular indiviuals were able to do so. '

   nicolette's hand brushes through his hair, fingertips touching the skin of his left cheek. he leans into it, gently squishing her hand against his elbow.

   ' so, like you and me? '

   he hums.

   ' like you and me. '

[lixzey]

No one's ever had me not like you

✨ give me a scenario + character for headcannons!

First off happy birthday!

Can I have Evan Buckley with a daughter of Bobby reader? (Totally not projecting my 911 DR right now)

Like relationship headcanons and date ideas and all the fluff please and thank you!

Because sometimes squishy is a 30+ man

Take care of yourself!

what if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh, only in my mind?

evan buckley x nash!reader headcannons

• I firmly believe that the two of you would be a grumpy x sunshine kind of trope. A slow motherfucking burn kind of romance, if I do say so myself.

• The day he arrived at the 118, he immediately tried flirting with you. “Hey, miss?”

• The look on his face when you told him your name was priceless!

• Buck definitely tried to get on your good side the minute he found out you were the captain's daughter. 

• Bobby was a bit skeptical of letting you dive into intense...fires, you know? because of the fear of losing you—his only surviving family—was bugging him. you didn't know what you were thinking, but you said: “Don't worry dad, Buckley's here to protect me, if I ever—God forbid—need it.”

• Which, Evan Buckley unfortunately heard, of course. “Protect you, huh?” Buck teased, grinning at you so annoyingly smug. “Didn't know you thought of me so highly, miss Nash.”

• From that day on, Evan motherfucking Buckley made it his personal mission to annoy the hell out of you. Why? Because he thinks you look cute when you're mad.

• The two of you argue over the smallest things, it actually drives Hen and Chim crazy because the two of you ask them who's right and wrong. 

• Speaking of Chim and Hen, they are 100% done with both of you. You two haven't even been at the 118 for a year but it sure feels like it with all of the bickering. You would always rant to Hen about Buck's annoying antics “That...that fucking grin of his- Ugh! I swear to God, Hen, one day I'm just gonna snap and pretty sure I'm gonna murder him, and you are helping me dispose of his dumb ass.” and Hen just chokes on her coffee, looking at you with wide, terrified eyes. “Sorry, what?” 

• Meanwhile, Buck is yapping to Chim about your cute annoyed little pout. the poor guy has heard buck ramble on and on 

• Your dad has had to pull you away from evan multiple times per shift, seems like you inherited his temper. 

“Is she always like that, Cap?” Buck asks with an amused chuckle as he watches you stomp away with your arms folded over your chest like a child throwing a tantrum. Bobby sighs, giving him a stern look—more like an exasperated one, Buck couldn't really tell. 

“I'm afraid she's got fire,” Bobby placed a hand over Buck's shoulder, causing him to tense slightly. “Think you can handle more?” 

Buck stared at Bobby, like he'd grown another head or two. “M-more? what do you mean, more?” 

Bobby raised a brow. “I thought I heard you tell my little girl you'd protect her?”

• After that little moment with your dad, Buck literally started protecting you. A fire? He’s pushing you away with a big ass smug grin on his face. “I got this,”  God, that annoying grin of his was getting on your nerves so badly, you almost hit him with the line hose once.

• The arguments went on and on, of course. Buck would often tease you about being, well, a damsel he loves saving. And you’d always clap back that he’s an annoying peasant that should bow down to you, because you’re no damsel, but a queen. 

• Cat and dog, the nickname the whole 118—including your father, unfortunately—gave you and Buck, much to your complete, absolute, annoyance.

• You’ve always viewed Evan Buckley as this manwhore, annoying, little shit starter, but when he fails to save a person in a roller coaster accident, your views change drastically. 

• He has a heart, and you saw first hand how everything affected him. Which honestly gave you flashbacks when…your mother and siblings died and you couldn’t do anything. 

• You helped Buck with the guilt he felt, and it somehow made him feel better. It was also the very first time he saw you smile at him, easing his worries even for just a split second.

• Sometime later, you and your father didn’t show up for work. Buck was worried—terrified, almost—because all of his texts and calls were left unanswered. You always answered texts, even before when he was still the annoying douchebag, you answered. Turns out, your father was relapsing with his alcoholism, and you were reliving the past trauma.

• You were a mess when Buck and Hen arrived at yours and your dad’s place. You had been trying to get your dad to come out of his room, but all of your efforts were in vain. It was like you forgot that you were a trained firefighter, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything aside from calling your dad’s name from outside his bedroom door the way you did after the loss you and your father faced.

• As soon as the apartment door opened, Buck immediately came running towards you, not even letting Hen get to you first to check you out for any injuries or whatever. Evan Buckley just wrapped his arms around you, and you broke down crying like a little girl, holding onto him for dear life.

• After Hen got your father sane, you and Bobby recalled the day of the accident, which honestly gave Buck a better insight of you. From that day on, somehow, you and Buck became friends. 

• Do not get me started on Abby Clark. 

• You hated her, but you wouldn’t admit it (Hen definitely noticed how your face would contort into a look of disgust whenever she was mentioned.)

• And Buck just HAD to date her, aka creepy old lady.

• The look on your face was absolutely priceless when Buck invited her to Chim’s welcome back party. Let’s just say the poor cake you had didn’t deserve the stabbing.

• And him going on a DATE with her???? That Chim and your father took holiday duty for?????

• Technically, it wasn’t Abby’s fault that Buck choked on a piece of bread (you were mad and worried, but you still laughed a little-) but you still blamed her (you are not a girl’s girl when jealous- is that what it was?, that’s for sure.)

• As Buck, well, pushes through with his new relationship, you grew a bit distant with him, which confused the fuck out him because he thought you were friends. You had to assure him that yes, you were friends, but you also had a life of your own. Funny, because you just sulk in your home every day because of, well, you know. 

• You tried meeting other people. It was weird, to say the least. When Buck found out, he almost choked on his water (see what I did there?). At least your dad is on the road to finding happiness again.

• Okay, so let’s do a quick uno reverse. 

• Eddie Diaz, the new guy, who caught Buck’s attention. Why? Because he was a bit too chummy with you for his liking. 

• And there you two go again, arguing like petty middle schoolers.

• You were siding with Eddie with everything, with infuriated Buck so bad he wanted to bang his head on the gym equipment. 

• Because what the fuck did you mean when you told Eddie he should join the freaking sexy firefighter calendar????? Was he not sexy enough for you????? Bro was having a midlife crisis at this point.

• Buck constantly judged everything Eddie did, and it was getting on your nerves, to the point of-

• Okay so, long story short, Buck and Eddie become friends after you snapped at them during an argument. The way you shut Buck up completely was honestly amazing, because he literally said “Yes, ma’am.”

• And then you and Buck finally meet your new godson, Christopher! Buck was a sweetheart, honestly, you loved seeing him interact with him.

• Everything was fine, until this reporter came in. 

• God, you hated those cameras. You wanted to punch them and her for constantly being in your space. 

• On the bright side though, you now have a new mom: Athena! And a new friend, aka Maddie Buckley, Buck’s big sister! You love hearing stories about Buck from her, and you consider her as your new favorite person.

• Speaking of Maddie, when her deranged ex-husband kidnaps her, you helped Buck find her, despite your dad and new mom’s protests. 

• When the 118 was targeted by this bomber (you wanted to strangle the kid with your bare hands) you were absolutely torn. Buck’s legs were crushed by the fire engine caused by the explosion, to add salt to the injury: you and your dad were the MAIN targets. 

• Even though Buck was in immense pain, all he could think about was you, only you.

Buck screamed in pain, his legs trapped under what felt like tons and tons of weight, but when he saw you, crawling towards him, somehow everything in his body felt fine. You were now his main concern. 

“Y/n- ah!” Buck screamed out in pain, struggling to reach his hand out towards you. “A-are you- ah! Okay?”

“Buck!” You cried, taking his hand in yours, desperately trying to push the damned heavy truck off of his legs. “Someone help! His legs are getting crush, for fucks sake! Help me get this thing off of him! Someone!”

• THE WAY YOU FUCKING CURSED THE LITTLE FUCKER WHO CAUSED THE EXPLOSION-

“Let my friends go, you stupid dumb fuck! It’s me you want, right? To get revenge on my dad? Let them go! They didn’t do shit, you stupid brainless son of a bitch! Let them go! I swear to all the deities out there, I personally escort you to hell! I will drag your corpse straight to motherfucking satan if you don’t let my friends go right this goddamn instant!”

• Way to get someone’s attention though, because of that your dad got the upperhand (Bobby was surprised by your vocabulary, though).

• You held Buck’s hand while the people around you helped to get the truck off of his legs. You tried your best to soothe his pain, despite your own broken arm (Who cares about your arm? Hell, you don’t even care about yourself, the only thing that mattered to you then was Evan Buckley).

• You were there by his side when he got to the hospital, and refused to leave. Athena and Bobby had to talk to the hospital staff to let you stay, because there is no way in hell you were leaving him.

• You comforted Buck when he was told that his injury was severe, and that he might need to consider another career. You glared at the doctor, whilst holding Buck’s hand tightly in yours.

• Five months after the accident, when Buck was finally cleared (oh, so you all thought-) you were absolutely happy and your mom and dad could see that. Pretty sure from that point onwards they knew you had feelings for Buck because when he coughed up blood, you were the first one to respond and do shit. 

• After finding out he is no longer cleared to go back to work, Buck quits the LAFD and starts spiraling. You ask Eddie if he could bring Christopher over, to cheer him up—which helps, thank God. You and Buck bring Chris to Santa Monica, for a bit of well-deserved relaxation, almost looking like a little family (Buck may or may not have thought about that-).

• You and Buck almost had a moment, standing so close to each other, barely and inch separating both of your faces, AND A FUCKING TSUNAMI RUINS THE GODDAMN MOMENT.

• Even after being injured only months prior to the tsunami, Buck put yours and Chris’ safety first. Jesus, the man could RUN with you and Chris in his arms.

• The three of you managed to hold onto each other for a while, with you practically refusing to let go of Chris—maybe it's the trauma of losing your younger siblings, or something else—like he was your lifeline in all of this shit that was happening around. Same goes with Buck, but it’s mainly you who’s anchoring him down. The way the both of you almost lost your minds when Chris got separated from you was honestly crazy, Buck had to hold you by the waist so that you wouldn’t swim through the running waters in search of your kid, even though he wanted to do the absolute same. The breath the two of you breathed out when you saw Christopher safe and sound, looking for his ‘Buck and Y/n’, oh, you almost cried on the spot if you weren’t so dehydrated from helping throughout the stupid tsunami. Eddie couldn’t thank the two of you enough for putting his son first in a calamity. At this point he owes you and Buck his life.

• When Buck decided to sue the department and city for wrongful termination, it caused a rift not only between the two of you, but with the whole team. You were mad at him, because was it wrong to think about his safety first? It was actually you who suggested it to your father, in hopes of helping Buck get the medical help he needed first before finally getting back into the workforce, but he took it the wrong way when you and your family tried explaining it over dinner.

• You and Eddie decide to ignore him, even though it pained the both of you because Buck was your best friend, the only person you and Eddie trust in this world to have your backs and everything. Now, the two of you had to rely on each other now.

• When the team encounters Buck at a supermarket, you snap at him. Giving him a dose of reality he needed to hear. No one could stop you, even your own father could as you lashed out on this man, who you only wanted the best for. This little interaction leads to his reinstatement to the team (Partially, as everyone is still mad at him, until Eddie, Hen, and Chim finally forgave him). Yet, you still avoided him at all costs because of how much he hurt your feelings with all the shit he pulled. You still went with your dad though after finding out that Buck was in the emergency room (still acting mad, but in reality you almost had a heart attack when you found out.) You quickly left when he said he was fine, much to the confusion of your father, since you were so adamant on coming with your dad to see if Buck was alright.

• Okay, so after that little stint in the emergency room, Buck is now a regular in your life again, as he is now a full member of the 118 again without any restrictions whatsoever. Which made it harder to avoid him, since you still felt a bit, well, heartbroken. Honestly, you were so confused with your own feelings, you thought it was better to stay the fuck away or else you would have punched him in the face the minute he initiates small talk or whatever. Buck tried everything to get you to talk to him, or at least yell at him or something since it was his and your thing, where he’d annoy you and you’d snap at him for being a little shit who won’t take no for an answer. Hell, he even got Eddie, Chim, and Hen on board (begrudgingly, might I add, as they do not want to invoke your anger, really.) with his plan. Like, them purposely taking seats close together and leaving seats opposite of each other or side by side for you and Buck to take with no other choice. It was torture for Buck more than it was for you, because he missed you. 

• Eddie, Hen, Chim, and Maddie are absolutely tired of hearing Buck talk about you. Like, if they hear one more word from him, they’re either banging their head against a nearby surface or taking an ungodly amount of alcohol or coffee to be able to cope with this whining from Buck. At least they aren’t hearing from you. You practically detached yourself from them (they’re honestly worried, especially Eddie, Hen, and Chim), you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but it was working in terms of being left alone.

Okay, let’s get to Christmas!

• After learning that Christopher isn’t happy about spending Christmas without his favorite people—his father, his Y/n, and his Buck—you feel a bit guilty, I mean, all three of you are. You’ve just been so…busy? With your father’s health being on the line caused by hazardous radioactive material, you were just so stressed. You’ve already lost one parent, and you were not going to lose another. Athena was your rock during all of it, and she was the only person you’d talk to about your mind and heart messed up by someone named Evan Buckley. To relieve everyone’s worry, Athena and Buck managed to throw a Christmas party at the station for everyone. You loved the party, getting to spend time with your family was the best thing you could ever ask for. You felt a bit like yourself again, but there was still this longing ache inside of you that you couldn’t shake. God, it was annoying. Because deep inside, you knew this longing was something else. Who knew stolen glances between the two of you would feel like this? 

• In the middle of everyone mingling at the party, Buck managed to pull you aside (downstairs, but yeah), and surprisingly, you didn’t pull back. It was as if his touch was your vice and you couldn’t get enough. 

“Uh, hi?” Buck awkwardly smiled at you, scratching the back of his neck as if he was in high school trying to ask a girl out for the very first time, though, you highly doubt that he was like that during his years as a high school student with the personality he had. “Are…are you enjoying the party, so far?”

God, is this what the two of you have reduced to? Cringe worthy small talk? Jesus Christ, what the fuck? 

You gave him a little smile, pulling your hair to the side, trying to hide the growing awkwardness—more like something else—that you felt deep in your bones. “Yeah, it’s…fun, really. I’m glad you and Athena thought of this, it’s quite thoughtful of you to think about everyone.”

A nervous chuckle leaves his throat, his eyes meeting yours after all of those secret glances in the middle of the crowded party. “I’m glad you liked it.”

The two of you stood there, face to face, your heart beating uncontrollably inside your chest like a machine gone haywire. Sweet baby Jesus, how on earth does Evan Buckley’s presence make you feel…stuff like this?

And then, Buck took a step forward, standing a few inches away from you. He was so close, but you still felt so far from him. Without thinking, you took a step forward, meeting him halfway, with only a few centimeters separating the both of you, his breath hot on your cheek as the two of you locked eyes like those romance movie posters. God, why is he so tall? You were already on your toes just looking at him.

“Hi,”

“Hey,” Buck laughed, finally closing in the distance between your bodies, your lips almost touching, sending a shiver down your spine as you placed your palms onto his chest, feeling his heart beating the same way yours did. He then wrapped a strong arm around your waist, and then he kissed you. 

And you kissed back.

God, is this what love feels like? A warm, fuzzy feeling spread all over as your body kissed the living daylights out of you, devouring you like it was the last day on earth and he wanted to make it last at least until everything faded into the cosmos or whatever. A moan escaped your throat as Evan picked you up in his arms, like one of the kisses in those cheesy romantic comedy movies. Somehow, everything about this felt absolutely right. Everything made complete sense now, Evan Buckley was your true north.

You could have stayed like this forever, wrapped in his arms as the two of you hungrily made out like two lovers separated by war, but all fantasies have their limits. Maddie and Chim spotted the two of you, and well, it left you and Buck, rather breathless.

Evan Buckley tasted like heaven and hell, intertwined in a perfect storm of love and admiration that made you craving for more. Fuck, how the hell does he manage to make you feel like this? 

If it wasn’t for Maddie and Chim standing there, you would have gone for seconds, thirds, maybe even fourths, fifths, and so on. You were in too deep with him now, but Evan Buckley was already far deep down that hole—having realized that he’s been in love with you for the longest time.

After that breathtaking kiss, you and Buck quickly ran upstairs, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. Anyone with functioning eyes could easily decipher what just happened, the smudged lipstick was already a dead giveaway. 

“Looks like someone finally got the courage to ask the girl out!” Hen grinned, placing her plate down onto the table. “I won, pay up everybody!”

“What?” You asked, your eyes wide with disbelief. “You bet on us!?” 

“Who wouldn’t?” Chim answered, taking out ten dollars out of wallet. “I’m not even mad at losing the bet. Hell, I’m absolutely over the goddamn moon for the both of you! It’s about fucking time you two got together!”

You stared at him, your cheeks tinted pink, either from the kiss of your life, or the embarrassment you felt. “God, are we that predictable?”

“Yes, you are.” Your father laughed, walking towards you, Athena following suit. “We’ve known for quite a while, darling.” 

“Dad!” You looked at your father, horrified. “You knew? You actually knew, knew?”

“Oh, baby,” Athena placed a hand on your shoulder, motherly as always. “Your father knew the minute you complained about Buck.”

“You complain about me, huh?” Evan gave you a teasing grin, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “How mean of you, miss Nash, you wound me!”

You glared at him. “Shut up, Buckley.”

“Make me, Nash.”

“How cute!” Maddie gushed, loving the way her baby brother looked at you like you were the only person in this crowded area. “Buck’s finally happy, I’ve never seen him this happy.”

“He’s finally found his match,” Chim chuckled, watching you and Buck argue like children, which was almost endearing to see. “I’m just glad that I won’t be hearing Buck whining again.”

“Hey! I do not whine!”

“Yeah, you do.” Eddie said, patting Buck on the back. “You’ve been whining about Y/n not-”

“Shut up,” Buck grumbled, rolling his eyes playfully. “We get it. I was a whiny baby because of my beautiful, amazing, girl who never fails to make me crazy with her.”

• And just like that, you and Buck are finally an official couple with Bobby and Athena’s blessing (Bobby gave Buck the protective father talk, let’s just say Evan Buckley would be an idiot if he hurt you in any way possible, he'd personally beat himself up if he ever did so.) 

• Evan Buckley is a simp, I say this lovingly. Like: “Look at my beautiful girl!”, “Hey, you see that? That’s my woman over there!”, “Isn’t she just amazing?”, “I love her so much, it hurts!” Eddie, Chim, and Hen have escaped whiny Buck, but now they have to deal with an in love Evan Buckley. 

• He keeps a photo of you practically everywhere. In his wallet, locker, phone, the bac of his phone, his name plate thingy where the gear are, EVERY FUCKING WHERE. 

• Pet names!! This man loves to call you a bunch of tooth rotting pet names like sweetheart, bunny, my love, lover, baby girl, princess, sweet pea, darling, my beautiful angel, honey, angel baby, love of my life, queen of my heart, the flame in my heart and a shit ton more. Buck definitely beat the record for cheesy pet names. 

• Buck loves seeing you in action on the field, like “That’s my girlfriend, you suckers!” kind of vibe. But he does step in when the situation gets dangerous for you. 

• Dates. DATES. Dates!!! Evan takes you on a date every day off from work. Honestly, he specifically asked Bobby to give him the same days off as you so the two of you could spend time with each other and have fun (but not too much fun - protective father Bobby Nash).

• Your favorite activity to do with Evan is definitely cooking! 

• Okay so, remember Jeffrey Hudson? Yeah, him. Buck is absolutely terrified that you’d be his next victim. After everything that happened with Athena, he fears that as an act of revenge towards your step mother, he’d kidnap you and….let’s just say Evan never had peace of mind after that. 

• Because of said fear, Evan asked you to move in with him, with Bobby’s blessing, of course. And you said yes! Living with Buck felt so natural, the domestic kind of life felt nice. I mean, the two of you weren’t only just playing house, but it’s kinda like a preparation for what’s to come. 

• Remember Abby? Well, Buck doesn’t care about her anymore. In fact, during the rescue, he told her “My wife and I are going to do everything to rescue your fiancé.” Him calling you his wife???? MADE YOU MELT! 

“Wife, huh?” You grinned, fixing your harness for the rescue operations. “I’m flattered, Buckley. But where’s my ring?”

“I-uh, you know I just said that-”

“I know, baby.” You kissed him on the cheek. “I love you.” 

“I love you more, my future wife.” Buck smiled, kissing your forehead. 

“That’s more like it.” You giggled, tugging on your straps to make sure they’re safe and secure. “Come back to me, alright?”

Buck nodded, placing another kiss on your temple. “Always. You stay safe, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too, Evan!”

“I love you too, Y/n!”

• When Maddie announces that she and Chim are expecting a baby, you and Buck were so excited! Auntie Y/n and Uncle Buck for the absolute win! 

• When Buck and Maddie’s parents came to visit, you stood by your boyfriend, holding his hand because you knew everything about his childhood and that he was seeing a therapist for it. And when the secret about their older brother was revealed, you were Evan’s rock—the only person he knows that would never lie to him. 

[scudevils]

BEARD BURN WITH QUINN HUGHES PLEASE

trouble — QH43

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (f & m receiving), roadhead, no actual sex, praise, degradation, swearing, mention of a safe word, use of the word brat like once or twice, canucks losing (sorry quinny), reader is a bit annoying for a scene, a bit of sad quinn for like 2 mins, not proofread!!

synopsis: quinn losing a bet results in you getting to enjoy his beard for just a wee bit longer [4.2k]

a/n: hugeeee thank you to my hockey cunt @thegrantic for basically giving me the whole idea for this!! i waffled BIG TIME on this so a lot of it is filler, feel free to skip to the smut if that’s what your here for (i wont judge you)

you watched him from the comfort of your bed, eyes still sleepy and the morning sun being far too bright for your liking. he's fresh out the shower, steam rolling out of the en suite into the bedroom, windows coated in condensation which only seemed to intensify the suns rays.

morning had never, and you vowed would never, be your thing. but being with quinn meant early mornings, wether it was a run or a workout, he practically begged you to join him. and when he gave you those eyes who were you to reject him?

you weren't sure if it was his hectic schedule, or perhaps just because he liked the look, but he'd been beginning to grow his beard out more than before. you were used to a little stubble sure, but it was usually gone the day after you'd mention it, and you were so fucking happy he'd decided to grow it out.

it was becoming a daily test for you to not jump on him on him the longer he kept it, like a predator with their prey you just wanted to devour him.

from the steamed up windows you could see that he was rubbing the shaving cream on his face, finding the time to brush his teeth when you'd been off daydreaming, but it was the white froth on his face that caught your attention.

it takes practically all of your willpower to even get out of the bed, before 10am it was blasphemous for you, a sin you'd be repenting for the rest of your life, and you'd been brining quinn down with you for forcing you up so early. "what are you doing?" he jumps slightly at the sound of your voice, half expecting you to already be back to sleep that you'd basically snuck up on him.

“uh, shaving." he answers the obvious, motioning to the cream that still coated his cheek, ready to be cut away from the fresh blade he'd put on his razor.

you stop his hand before it can reach the razor, taking it in your own. "q, you can't shave."

quinn quirks an eyebrow at your words, a small laugh bubbling from his chests as the look on your face is so serious, like in your mind this is no laughing matter. "and why can't i shave?"

"cause you look hot with a beard?" you said, mimicking his earlier tone, the reason so painfully obvious to you although it hadn't even crossed your boyfriends mind when he'd started growing it out.

he can't help but laugh this time, the smallest of smug smiles threatening to pull at his lips and you could see the sides of them curving up. "you think so?" you nod your head at his words, like it was the clearest thing to ever understand, and you couldn't quite get why he didn't know that. "too bad, it's fucking itchy."

“quinn," you drag out his name in a whine, like a spoiled child who wasn't getting a toy they'd asked for, hoping it would change his mind, instead he only answered with a shake of his head before squeezing your hand and slipping his own from it, reaching for the razor. "why don't we make a bet."

this seemed to pique his interest, stopping his hand on the way to his face before he turned to look at you, the conversation finally not being had through looks in the mirror. "what kinda bet you thinkin'?" he entertained your request, wanting to see what you'd came up with in that short amount of time.

"well, you guys play tomorrow right?" you asked him, already knowing the answer was yes, and when quinn nodded apprehensively, you continued. "you lose, you keep the beard for another week. you win, you get to shave."

“or i could just shave now?" he propositioned, ignoring the conditions you'd already set.

"you do that and i cut you off."

"you wouldn't." he was quick to reply, what he assumed was an empty threat still not enough to convince him to keep the beard.

a smug smile made its way onto your face, you stepped an inch closer to him, running the tips of your fingers over his exposed chest, small droplets of water still clinging to the taut skin. "i have a hand hughes, i'll be just fine." you dragged out the last two words, emphasising your point to him.

"fine."

~

as usual, you were sat with the other wives and girlfiends, the printed "HUGHES 43" proudly displayed across your back, watching as the clock ticked away, too slowly for your liking, feeling like time was slowing down as they were down just one goal, every action felt like it'd been edited slower, dragging out the losing feeling.

you knew it'd be a tough game, at home and against vegas, it was just a recipe for a headache. they'd been as good as they could've been, quinn getting an early goal in the first period before vegas responded only two minutes later. a similar story in the second period, and now in the third with only a minute left they were lagging behind 3-2, hoping they could get a goal to drag it to overtime and at least salvage a point but luck was not on their side.

the familiar horn went off, signalling the end of the game, the loss of the home team, and the players skated off of the ice, and you could see quinn muttering to himself and kicking up snow as he made his way over to the tunnel, no doubt blaming himself for the loss.

it was wrong, you knew it you really did, that deep down a small part of you was happy they'd lost, after all it meant you'd won your and quinn's bet, but you pushed the part of you that wanted to gloat down, standing in the crowded hallway with the rest of the girls, waiting to greet their own significant others after the loss.

just your luck, quinn was always one of the last out, no doubt taking time to apologise to the guys for the (rare) mistakes he'd made in the game, and you were practically alone when he'd finally gotten himself showered and ready again, save for the security guard you'd found yourself in conversation with.

quinn glanced your way, bag strap draped over one of his shoulders, your eyes trail over his flushed face. he was still sweating, the shower doing nothing to tame the adrenaline rush, and the redness was just barely starting to fade from his cheeks down to his neck. "you ready?" he mumbled, a clear sign he wasn't in the mood for talking and you nodded your head, a quick smile and goodbye to the man who'd kept you company and you were leaving.

"you really did play well, q." from the outside perspective, your words were sweet, but quinn knew you well enough from the years of dating that you were bursting to rub it in that you'd won the bet, but you held back for his sake.

the drive home was practically silent, a stark contrast to how it usually was, even when they lost quinn had at least things to say to you, when he'd go a ramble about how good one of the guys had played or how he wished he'd done a play differently and you'd usually just nod your head and listen, it was all he needed, just a person to listen to him.

which was why it was so difficult to keep your words to yourself, you hated seeing him quiet, quinn was never quiet. you swore he could talk for both of you and still have things to say, so the silence was something different, something you definitely did not like.

you were nearly home, ten minutes left if the roads were clear, not that you were counting, but your eyes kept flickering to the radio display, the time clear in blue led's, as was the "radio off" sticking out to you.

so you decided to test your luck, fingers pressing at the one switch before quinn could question what you were doing, the song coming through the speakers one you recognised but not one you could name, and then you went back to looking out of the window, a quick flick of your eyes towards quinn to see his reaction before you did so.

he was quick to turn it back off, silence encapsulating the car once again but only for a few seconds before you pressed it on again, hearing a sigh fall from quinn's lips and you assumed he'd just given up fighting you on it. "have you always been this annoying?"

“since you met me, q." you quipped, a look over your shoulder thrown in his direction before you faced out of the window again, humming to yourself the tune of the song. "why'd you wanna sit in silence so badly?"

quinn didn't answer you, focus entirely on the road but you seen his grip onto the steering wheel just a little bit harder, knuckles turning white and his jaw clenched as the red light reflected against his features. "what, you not talking to me now?" you breathed out a disbelieving laugh, still not bothering to even look at him fully, maybe you were as bad as him. "don't be mad at me just cause you lost twice."

"fuck y/n, when'd you become such a brat?" finally, you turned to look at him, lips parting at his words and you found his eyes already on yours, a frenzied look on this as they grew a shade darker, a fire burning behind them like he was seeking out conflict, wanting a fight, like he was still on the ice.

"don't call me that."

"why, you're actin' like one right now aren't you?" the light turned green, the only way you'd realised was the way it shone against his face, different from the harsh red glow from before, and this time you could see the humour in his eyes, he was enjoying riling you up, and your eyes drifted from his face down to his hands on the steering wheel, tightening around the leather.

"how long till we're home?"

he quirked an eyebrow at your question, but answered anyway, wanting to know what you were planning. "about 5 minutes."

"you think i can get you off in 5 minutes?" you were already reaching across the console, the sweats he'd chose to wear doing nothing to hide the growing bulge beneath them and you heard him suck in a breath as you ran your hands over it, glancing back up to him to see he's tucked his bottom lip between his teeth.

"know you can do it in less." his words gave you a boost of confidence, quinn helping you push down his sweats and he lift his hips enough for you to rid him of them and his boxers.

its definitely an awkward arrangement, but with a little effort you manage to drape yourself across the console without too much discomfort on your part, right elbow resting between his thighs as you use that hand to stroke him lazily, feeling him harden under your hand before you drop your head pressing a teasing kiss to his tip, feeling his shudder under your arm. "y/n-"

you cut him off when you took just the tip in your mouth, one of his hands falling from the steering wheel to your back, dancing along your spine before it found its place in your hair, wrapping itself in the soft strands and tugging at the roots. feeling him twitch in your mouth when you circle the slit, you grin up at him, seeing his eyes flittering down to yours in a way that was definitely not road safe. "fuck, baby, please."

his pleas didn't fall on deaf ears, entertaining them as your lips brushed up the side of his cock, kissing along his length, before taking him further into your mouth. "only because you said please." this time you let his hand guide your head down against him, fingers flexing against your scalp, desperate to keep a grip on you but it was slowly slipping away.

he can hear you spluttering around him, saliva and pre cum escaping your lips and falling against your chest, the open cut shirt you'd worn at least giving him a nice view. another shaky groan rumbled in his chest, a moan threatening to spill from his mouth when your hand squeezed what your mouth couldn't take. "fuck, never gonna forget how good your mouth feels."

you pull off of him for just a second, catching your breath in the process, before you looked up at him. "never gonna have to." the promise was too sweet for the moment, but he couldn't help but appreciate it, he'd never have to forget you because he'll always have you.

entirely too encouraged by his praise and sounds, against his own direction, you push your head down to lightly gag around him, eliciting a moan from him. your own spit starts to hit your chest again, and the squeeze of your hand around him has him bucking his hips into your mouth, tip hitting against the back of your throat almost painfully but the sound of your name from his lips is enough to make up for it.

“i'm so close, so good to me-" you can feel his thighs tensing under your hand, his cock twitching in your mouth a tell tale sign that he was close, and all it took was pushing your head down till he repeatedly hit the back of your throat for him to be releasing down it, your hums vibrating against him only causing him to let out a groan, feeling him still in your throat and finally lift you off of him.

you almost feel a sense of pride when you look up at him, cheeks flushed for a second time tonight although for an entirely different reason, and chest heaving as he tried to catch him breath, matching your own laboured breathing as you did the same.

"told you you could do it in less." you let out a small laugh against his thigh, glancing up to the illuminated clock, just under five minutes since you'd last checked, and you force yourself to move from the position that had now become unbearably uncomfortable.

the turn in the road felt familiar, one you could recognise out of a lineup if you needed to, the one that took you home and you felt butterflies in your stomach, anticipation practically dripping down your thighs as quinn parked the car in your designated spot in the lot, your legs begging you were already at your apartment as they felt they'd buckle under any pressure.

you, however, powered through their protests, thankful you did as the comforting smell of your apartment filled your senses as quinn unlocked the door. the scent a perfect mix of yours and quinn's, the remnants of a once burnt candle nestled in there alongside the perfume you'd put on earlier.

there was something so domestic about the way quinn looked at you, like in a split second he's be down on his knees proposing to you, what was once just an apartment was now a home, your home. "quinn," the whine of his name broke him out of his trance, at some point you'd made your way over to him, just an inch away, needing to be closer. "have no idea how badly i want you, q."

"fuck, know i love it when you talk like that." he was quick to slot his lips over yours, the kiss harsh enough to knock the air from your lungs, filling them with him. his hand tangled in your hair, forcing your neck up with a gasp, allowing him access to the skin, marking you up with rough kisses against your pulse point.

it was magic really, how he was able to render you a whimpering mess with just a few kisses, hand grasping at the grown our strands of hair, longer than he'd had before but fuck did you love it. "quinn, please."

quinn lifted his head from your neck, swollen lips hovering over yours, brushing over them as he spoke. "please, what? what'd you need baby."

"your mouth, please, q." you were too desperate to have any shame, the only thought in your mind was of your own pleasure.

he pressed a searing kiss against your lips, as if telling you to be patient whilst he go to work with you. "only because you said please." he mocked your earlier words, using them against you and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smirk on his lips as he did so. your jeans were quickly discarded, leaving you only in your canucks jersey and panties underneath.

you could feel the warmth from his body when he hooked his hands underneath the waistband of your panties, carefully pulling them down your legs and you stepped out of them, leaving now just in his name-claimed jersey, the cold hitting your legs more than before and you wondered if it was placebo, you felt more exposed and your body reacted as if you were. his eyes seemed to darken more than they had before, a light blush coating his cheeks like it had the first time he'd seen like this.

quinn spread your legs apart when he lifted he pushed you down onto the bed, stepping in between your thighs, pressing kisses against your skin when, squeezing your thighs when he met them and leaving marks leading to where you needed him most. "hm, so lucky aren't i?" your head fell back when you felt his breath hitting your cunt, blowing hot hair on you to see you squirm, before he gently swiped a finger over your slit, your hips involuntarily bucking towards his hand. "all for me, yeah?"

you felt totally out of it, only nodding your head when pressed his thumb against your clit, your brain short-circuiting at the contact, only adding to the sensation when he flattens his tongue against you. he gave you no time react before his mouth found its way to your clit, your hand instantly reaching for his hair when it became tangled in the brown mess he also seemed to be growing out.

the burn of his beard against your sensitive skin only adds to the feeling, mixing insatiably with the pleasure you were feeling from his mouth on you, something you'd never get used to.

your other hand gripped at the clean white bed sheets, thighs tightening around his head like you were scared he'd move, holding him in place so that even if he tried he couldn't. quinn grabbed one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder to allow himself a better angle, gently grazing his teeth over your clit, the hairs on his face tickling against your inner thigh, nearly having you melting into the bed, though it elicited a loud moan of his name from you.

there was no stopping the noises that came from your mouth, whimpers, whines and moans of his name falling from your lips at his relentless attack on your cunt. "feels so good quinn-" your words only encouraged him, walls clenching around his fingers when he curled two of them inside you, the feeling of that and his tongue circling your clit had you tumbling towards your first orgasm.

your head fell back against the bed, mouth open in a silent moan, wanting to scream but you couldn't find your voice, and eyes screwed shut from the pleasure. when quinn looked up he swore he saw died, went to heaven and seen a fucking angel, branding the sight in his memory for those long roadies.

your release didn't stop his attack, fingers still moving at the same pace they had before and tongue still relentless against your clit. "know you can give me another one." he mumbled against your skin, the vibration sent shockwaves through your body. his lips quicken against you, his fingers moving inside you at a bruising pace that you can feel your second orgasm beginning to form, still so sensitive from the first, your clit twitching under his tongue.

"quinn, please, gonna cum again." your words heeded little warning, your thighs clenching around his head again, pulling him closer to you in angle that had you writhing against the sheets, moving your hips against his face to gain more friction.

on fire was all you could describe the way your body felt, nerves alive, hairs standing that you didn't even know you had. quinn's touch against your skin feeling electric, like he was shocking you each time he came in contact, the warmth of his lips travelling up your stomach, a trail of your slick being left in his path that any other thing would have you embarrassed, but not now. “taking it like a fucking slut, letting me fuck you how i want to, yeah?”

you swore you could drown in the smell of him, one that came so natural it only made you fall for him even harder every time he was this close to you. he drove you insane, nodding your head frantically without even fully registering his words.

the coil in your stomach tightened until it couldn’t any more, snapping and all you saw was white, eyes screwed shut as your body felt like it wasn’t yours anymore, thighs shaking around quinns waist as he moved to press a chaste kiss to your lips, talking you through your release as he continued the movement of his fingers.

the rise and fall of your chest was something quinn would never get sick of, so addictive that he was the one fucking you so good, even with only his tongue and fingers, that you could barely breathe. in fact, it only spurred him on more.

“think you can give me another?”

you whined at his words, shaking your head although he saw the way you clenched around nothing at the thought. “quinn, can’t-“

“you won remember, winners get rewards.”

there’s not much time for you to react when he’s back against your skin, the friction from his beard has you moaning, the sensation something you could definitely get used to. “remember the safe word?”

nodding your head, you let a small smile form on your swollen lips, no matter how past gone you both were he still checked you were okay with everything. “blue.”

“good girl, gonna make you feel so good.” quinn hooks his arm underneath both of your thighs, dragging you to the edge of the bed and he’s on the floor, throwing your legs over his shoulder and pressing a teasing kiss onto your clit, your head lulling against the cushion from the overstimulation.

he’s almost too slow for you with the way his tongue moves against you, savouring the moment at the wrong time when you press his head further against you, hand on the back of your head in a similar way to the way he had when you were in the car. “need more, q.”

a string of curses escapes your lips when he take your clit in his mouth, sucking on it till your practically sobbing, and his hands move from holding you in place to your hands, a small squeeze of your hands enough to comfort you through anything.

“fuck, quinn-“

your hands begin to push against his head, the sensation becoming too overwhelming that it’s almost sore. your overstimulated clit feeling spent from the night. he simply grabs you by the wrists and pins then down by the side of your body, back to keeping you in place. his tongue flicks against your throbbing clit, a scolding for moving away from him, before he’s back to sucking on it.

your voice is hoarse, moans are now broken whimpers and whines, lacking the energy to even speak, third orgasm approaching quicker than the others, hurling towards you, feeling like it’ll run you over. “fuck, can i quinn?”

his beard scratches against your thigh, the skin now a burning red, his pupils blown out as he looks up at you, tongue still attacking your clit. “let go for me, baby, last one.”

quinn worked you through your orgasm, soft kisses being pressed against your skin, a stark contrast to the relentless pulse of his fingers rubbing your clit, until you had to wrap your own wrist against his, forcing him away from you.

he left a trail of kisses up for your body, reaching your lips when he slotted his lips over yours, not wanting anything more than to just kiss you. you let out a whine when he broke the kiss though, needing him close to you, when instead he went into the en suite, returning with a dampened cloth.

you hissed in pain as he dabbed it against your reddened skin, the gentleness of his touch calming down the stinging. “promise me you’ll never shave again?”

quinn laughed at your request, but nonetheless nodded his head, both of you knowing it to be a hollow promise, but already fantasising about when he grows it out again.

[angstfactory]

"Didn't know you were so scared of me," Fitzroy needled the man, with a certain smug look. Now Kai was on the receiving end of a few teases and honestly, he could see the allure. It was pretty satisfying to rile somebody up a bit. "Keep those habits up, you'll be two stone heavier by Christmas." Though he had no doubts in his skill here-- Fitzroy was certain Kai would enjoy dinner, despite how much he was dragging feet over it. Maybe just the home cooked part of it alone would be enough to keep his surly behavior in check.

He chuckled as the other bat his hand away. Fitzroy checked on the steaks, which were ready to go in the oven now for the next several minutes. The kitchen at large was very heated, he could feel some sweat on his brow. Cutting off the burner, the man opened the oven to stick the sizzling pan within and checked his watch once more, to mentally note the time.

Now, the male turned to face and observe Kai handle the mashed potatoes without any further instruction-- not that it really took a rocket scientist to know they needed to dump the water. Still... Seeing his friend take over the task without even a peep of complaint and also have some knowledge of what he was doing with the potatoes? It was literally the smallest, most insignificant and mundane thing... And yet, it had Fitzroy crushing hard. That was seriously the hottest thing he'd seen yet today. Just the fact that Kai had come in there with him to show an interest and get involved...

Fitzroy pushed off from his perch and strode forward; he gripped Kai by the chin to pull the man's lips to his in a firm yet starved kiss. The potatoes could wait a damned moment!

"Yeah, well, I'd rather avoid another fucking telling off if I can." Kai shrugged, looking around at all the different elements of the meal. If he put his mind to it, he could probably learn to cook pretty easily, but he didn't care to. He was fine with how things were, and it gave Fitz something to do when he came around. "If the food turns out to be shit, I won't waste any time in opening at least three different bags of chips and two types of candy. And lets not forget the tequila. Either way, by the end of the night I'm going to be in an excellent mood."

Picking up the packaging the seasoning was in, Kai inspected it to find out exactly what it was. "I'm fine. Maybe I'm just trying to better myself, learn a thing or two, be a fucking adult or something." He took a step back and swiped at the hand that Fitz felt his forehead with. "Fuck off with that, do you want my help or not?"

Stepping over to the stovetop where the potatoes were boiling, Kai turned off the element and lifted the pot by the handle and moved over to the sink. Using the pot lid to keep the potatoes from falling out, he tipped the pot and drained the water. He put the pot down and grabbed the masher. "I know they don't come from a box, I'm not a fucking idiot, y'know."

[pjsk-writin]

The pjsk boys when another character teasingly asks them out of nowhere when they're going to marry the reader when the reader is RIGHT THERE. Probably with:

Mizuki for Rui and Akito (smug Mizu supremacy)

An for Toya? idk feel free to change that one

and Saki for Tsukasa

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I VIBRATED AT THE THOUGHT OF WRITING THIS./pos I hope you like this bc I had SO much fun with it <33

♡ MARRIAGE? - Rui Kamishiro, Akito Shinonome, Toya Aoyagi and Tsukasa Tenma x Reader

Rui:

It was a relatively normal day for Rui, all things considered. Practice wasn't until later, so he was currently hanging out with Mizuki and you

This wouldn't be an issue, except for when Mizuki turned to him, a shit-eating grin on their face. What were they up to now?-

"Sooo, Rui," They began, eyes shining, "When are you going to ask them to marry you?"

Both you and Rui seemed to freeze, Rui's gaze flickering between you and Mizuki. You swore you could see the smallest bit of uncertainty on his face before it was replaced with his usual grin

He tapped his chin, looking you over. "I don't know," He began, your eyes widening as he took your hands in his, "But I'd like to hope soon. They are my dearest, after all."

You could tell he was being completely serious, and you almost melted into his arms. Did he actually mean that?...

Mizuki whistled behind you both, nudging Rui with their elbow, "Oooh, I see how it is! I better be a maid of honor or something for ya!" "I'm sure you will be." He smiled and kissed the back of your hands. He was going to be the death of you.

Akito:

Akito had been invited to a last minute hangout session with Mizuki. While he usually would have declined, not wanting to put up with their constant teasing, you would be there, so of course he had to go

The three of you were sitting together, with you in the middle and Akito and Mizuki on your sides. Mizuki turned to look at Akito, grinning

"So, Lil Bro!" He glared at them in annoyance, but they kept going, "When are you gonna put a ring on their finger?"

The three of you sat in silence before Akito stood up, his eyes wide and face so incredibly warm. His heart was pounding, but he'd rather die before he told either of you that

"I- You- It's none of your business!" His words were sharp, sounding angry but you knew he was just flustered. He ran his fingers through his hair, avoiding both of your gazes, "I mean I- I would- I'd-"

He could barely talk, and that was when you stood to take his hands in yours. He snapped out of it to stare at you, and although his face was still warm, the anger had faded

"...Fuck, I hope it's soon." He had blurted the words out without thinking, and it was your turn to have your face warm. Mizuki was grinning, raising a brow, "Oooo, really? I could give you some tips!-" "Shut up-"

Toya:

Toya had invited you to another practice session with VBS, and the only people currently at the WEEKEND GARAGE was you, him and An

As you all waited for the other two members, An turned to face Toya, a smile on her face as she took a sip from her drink

"Hey Toya!" He turned toward her in acknowledgement, "You ever think about when you'll get married to them?"

The question almost made you spit out what you were consuming, and Toya had froze mid-sip. He took a deep breath before putting his cup down, looking at you

"...I don't know, when do you want to get married?" The question was asked with so much softness, so much care that you almost thought you imagined it.

Except you hadn't, and his face showed just how genuine he was. He had reached out to hold your hand to, and you thought that you could melt from his warmth

You gave your answer, and Toya smiled, squeezing your hand before kissing your forehead. "Well, I can't wait." An was beaming behind you both, "Can me and Kohane be maids of honor??" "Sure, Akito would probably be my best man anyway."

Tsukasa:

You were currently sitting in the Tenma's living room, Saki on one side and Tsukasa on the other. It was always a pleasure to spend time with them both

As you all ate your respective snacks, Saki turned to Tsukasa, eyes gleaming with curiosity

"Hey Bro?" "Yes?" "When are you going to propose to them?"

The question had made you almost drop your snacks to the floor, and Tsukasa had paused, looking at Saki with wide eyes

He was quick to clear his throat, dropping to his knee beside you as he placed a hand over his heart, grinning. "Why, whenever my favorite co-star wants me to, of course! A star is incomplete without his co-star after all!"

He was holding your hand, and you almost melted at the fact that he looked like he was already proposing. In a way, it could seem like he had

You had smiled at him, squeezing his hand as you gave your response. Satisfied with your answer, he went back to his original position, kissing your cheek. Saki gave a mock look of disgust, throwing a pillow at you both. "Okay okay, I get it , get a room-" Tsukasa had merely laughed and continued to kiss you <3

[simpingcowboy]

A Stranger in a Bar

Pairing: Jack Daniels x GN!Reader no use of Y/N

Rating: R (adult themes)

Warnings: consumption of alcohol (by Jack/ ambiguous consumption by reader), thoughts of infidelity, allusions to unhappy relationship, many feelings, slight angst, southern charm

Word Count: 2.8k+

Summary: You wanders into a bar after an argument with your partner. Agent Whiskey makes it his personal mission to make you feel better and show you how you deserve to be treated.

Author's Note: This was my first time writing for Whiskey! I just wanted to do something fun and sweet with my favorite cowboy. (Also use this as free therapy to deal with feelings about my ex lmao)

Enjoy :)))

You sat perched up on a high barstool. Soft country music plays on an old jukebox somewhere off in the bar. The drink you'd ordered hours ago- long forgotten. Reduced to a watered down version of whatever it was the bartender has recommended. You stayed looking ahead along the rows of alcohol lined up on the shelf, watching the way the flickering lights bounced off each bottle. It was a slow night, not many people had been there when you first walked in and now most nobody remained.

It had been a long night. It'd started as a drive, just a way to get your mind off things. You drove out as far you could without completely emptying the tank. Which is how you wound up here. Out in the middle of nowhere. At a bar. Alone. As far away as you could get from your partner at home. You just needed to get away, even if just for a bit. Just a place to wallow in your sorrows.

"Whiskey please." Calls a disembodied voice from behind you. It’s a low voice, smooth, and laced with an unmistakable Kentucky accent.

Glancing over, you catch sight of the stranger that’s taken the seat beside yours. He's handsome. Really handsome. His profile cuts an impressive silhouette. A low furrowed brow, strong arched nose, pouted lips topped with a fluffy mustache, and a soft square jaw. He was pretty. Taking a wider glance at him, you take in his outfit. A black fringe leather jacket fitted over a white t-shirt. Painted on blue jeans with a large belt buckle that pulls your eyes down to his slender hips. Lower down you see a pair of heeled black cowboys boots embroidered with a western design along the sides. And of course, a matching black cowboy hat rests on the bar beside him.

"Hey pretty baby." The stranger calls to you, drawing your eyes back up to his face. "Seein' something you like?" He said with a smirk. His eyes catching yours; warm dark brown eyes...welcoming and tempting.

You turn your head back, looking straight ahead at the spot you'd been staring at for the last hour or so before. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare." You say solemnly, "I just liked your hat is all." The excuse was lame but hopefully enough to get him off your back.

The message is received on his end. Bad night he thinks to himself. He thought it probably best to leave you alone, but he'd be damned if he didn't even try to make you feel even a bit better. The stranger takes a taste of the whiskey placed before him, building himself up to try again.

"Well thank you very much." He declares, taking the well worn hat in his hands and holding it to display it to you. "She is a beauty, ain't she?" The man expertly spins the hat on his finger to give you a 360° view. He glances over, and is pleased to see the smallest smile peak through. "Not nearly as beautiful as you are though. Now tell me darlin," the ever-increasingly charismatic cowboy lets out a soft groan as he reaches up to put his hat back up on his head "What were you really looking at me for?" A soft smug grin plastered back on his face.

You shrug, trying to keep it cool despite a look of embarrassment peaking through your expression. "I just like looking at you, that's all."

The stranger's grin stretches out to a full grown smirk. "Well don't let me stop you from looking." He pivots on his chair to face forward towards the bar. "But-" he stops to say, his eyes wander over you much longer than necessary "I can't promise I won't be lookin' back at ya."

Suddenly your throat felt full, there was no longer enough air in the room, or blood in your brain. This wasn't right. You knew it wasn't no matter how unhappy in your relationship you were. Better stop it now before it goes too far.

Finally you speak up "I'm taken." Even the words tasted bitter on your tongue.

Trouble in paradise he reasons, if the annoyance laced in your voice was anything to go by. You see the man push back slightly in his seat. "Oh- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend." He replies not wanting to overstep. But then again, he was never the type of man to let things be- not when he could make them better. Third time’s the charm. He mimes looking around the bar, feigning a look of fear as he leans in close to you. "Just to be clear, no cats gonna come to scratch me up for talkin' to ya, right?" You laugh for what feels like the first time in days. Jack smiles back at you, relishing in your joy.

You shake your head as you answer, "No, I promise no one's gonna come looking for you." You smile again as you eye up the stranger again. A little looking couldn't really hurt could it? "Not that I think you'd have any trouble holding your own of course."

He tips his head to you, a proud look upon his face. "Naturally, of course! Now I don't mean to brag but I reckon I'm one of the best fighters this side of the Mississippi."

"Is that so?" You challenge him.

"Yup, one of the best dancers too." He stands from the bar stool, offering you his hand. "But I'll let you decide that one for yourself."

You look at him nervously. He was being so damn nice and sweet and so charming. It almost felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on you. Showing you a man like this, knowing what you've got waiting for you at home. You look him over once more, finally able to get a full look on at the stranger. He stood tall, if you had to guess somewhere right around six feet. Seeing him from the front you can fully appreciate his wide broad shoulders. He looked straight out of a daydream, and here he stood hand extended out waiting for you.

“Well, what’d ya say Darlin?” The cowboy beckons you to take his hand. “I think you’ll find I'm on my best behavior.” he says with a teasing wink.

“Best behavior, huh?” you tease.

“Always am.” He retorts.

A chuckle escapes your lips. You confidently slide your hand into his and let him guide you off the chair onto the dance floor. It's just a dance you calm your nerves. Besides you were already heartbroken once tonight, what's a second time? You might as well enjoy it this time around.

The handsome stranger leads you to the dance floor. It's a small space that on a typical weekend is packed tightly, but right now you two have the floor all to yourselves. He pulls you over to the jukebox.

"Now let's put on somethin' but more appropriate shall we?" He says as he searches through the songs. Letting go of your hand for just a moment to put the coins in the machine. "There" he smiles brightly as the first notes of a country love song come on "much better ain't it?" He eases his hand back into yours.

You nod "Much better."

You pull in closer, squeezing his hand softly and letting your opposite hand climb up onto his shoulder. His hand moves into position on your waist, mindful to be respectful. Together you two sway gently letting the tune guide your pace.

Jack wasn't really meant to be here. If the job had gone right he'd be in a club a couple miles over on a surveillance job. Much to his dismay, the target was tipped off and skipped town, ruining his chances of getting any intel that night. Having the night off, he'd thought going for a drink might not be too terrible an end to the night. Landing him in this small country bar- bringing Jack straight to you.

Of course he'd seen you when he walked in. Sat up at the bar by yourself. They're a stunner alright the cowboy had thought to himself as he went to sit up beside you. He'd initially been hoping you might wanna join him for an evening. At the least, he reckoned you'd make good company while he enjoys his drink.

It'd started as that, him on his usual flirty behavior, but no now this was personal. How was someone as lovely as you left to feel this way all by themselves? Jack thought it downright blasphemous for a partner to leave you this way. Now Jack was not known for his sympathies, but he just had to make you feel just a bit better. He planned to do it in the only way he knew how to.

Despite his noble intentions, Jack was always weak in the heart. He was defenseless to stop his heart and mind from running wild when he first saw you smile. The logical part of him scolding his heart again and again; they're just a stranger, a taken stranger at that. Still despite all his efforts- he saw it clear as day. This stranger in his home waking up by his side. This stranger, baking him fresh apple pies. He saw himself teaching them how to ride. He saw it all in just minutes time. Jack saw a whole lotta love just waiting to be had in the stranger's eyes.

This stranger in a bar, had him by the heart.

You smile to yourself enjoying the way you feel in your cowboy's arms. This is what life ought to be, you think to yourself. You look up, meeting the gaze of the handsome stranger. He's just met you yet, here he looks at you in total admiration. As if you've hung every star in the sky or baked him his favorite pie. They never look at me like that, you think back to your partner at home.

You were unhappy in your relationship. You'd thought so many times that even if you left you’d never get anything better. That perhaps this is just what love really is. Maybe you didn't deserve anything better. But how on Earth could you think that now when this man is staring at you like that? It felt like a dream. You thought of taking the stranger home, making him yours. Your head filled with thoughts of happy days, romantic dates, a whole lifetime of love you could have in this man's arms.

"What's your name, Darlin?" He asks, snapping you out of your daydream.

You laugh aloud, having been so lost in thought you'd forgotten you barely know this man at all. You introduce yourself with the nod of your head.

He repeats your name back to you with a smile. Your name lingers on the edge of his tongue as if he doesn't wanna let it go. "Why- that's the perfect name for a perfect beauty like yourself." His gaze lingers over you for a moment.

"And you are?" You ask, your mind pressed to put a name to the handsome man.

"Where are my manners?" He exclaims. He retracts his hand from your waist, reaching up to tip his cowboy hat at you. "The names Jack. But you-" Jack wraps his hand back onto your waist pulling you tight against him "You can call me any time." He finishes with a wink.

You find your head thrown back in laughter at the cheesiness of his joke. He smiles right along with you, taking you in like a long sip of whiskey. His hand lovingly squeezes at your waist, as your hand slivers up his shoulder to his collar; grazing the hairs at the base of his neck. Jack's other hand, still wrapped around yours, moves to intertwine between your fingers. Your chests are pushed up closely against one another. Every inhale and exhale opposed from each other. Jack presses his forehead up against yours, the shadow on his cowboy hat lingering over both your faces.

At this moment, everything is just Jack. Being this close to him, even his smell fills your senses. He smells of the whiskey- still fresh on his tongue, of the leather oil- that's sheen on his jacket, of the aftershave- that's long settled in the pores of his face, and just a bit of cinnamon- as if he just ate apple pie before he came. As you look up at the stranger, you melt into his sight and allow yourself to feel at home in those warm brown eyes.

The veil of reality slips deeper and deeper into the fantasy you've put on for each other. Your smiles each grow larger, as your imaginations continue to go wild. Your daydreams grow with each passing moment. And if only for a moment, you let yourself believe maybe I will take him home.

Then, as it always does, reality comes back again. Your phone buzzes aggressively in your pocket as you let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry Jack." You say, a look of embarrassment evident on your face. You unwind yourself from his arms and step back against the jukebox. Looking at your phone you see your partner calling you. No doubt about to scold you for not coming back home yet. You shake your head as you hang up the call, not bothering to pick up. Opting to send a quick text instead "be home soon" is all it says.

You look up longingly at your cowboy all alone on the dance floor. A look of disappointment not well concealed on his face. He catches your withdrawal and moves into your space cautiously.

"Everything alright, Sugar?" Jack asks with a solemn tone.

"I'm okay I-" You bite your lip, hoping the words don't come out "I've gotta go home is all." A grimace plastered on your face.

The stranger smiles back down at you, not nearly as brightly as before. Though you both knew it'd end this way, knowing did little to ease the pain. The fantasy shared between you two shattered.

"I guess I best be letting you go on your way then." He says trying to put back on a jolly front for you though he's desperate for just a moment more with you. "Do you need a ride or anything? I've got my car right out front if you need or-"

You smile at him. Even now he's being so kind to you. You reach up, stopping his rambling. Your hand landing on his cheek and stroking it softly. "Won't be necessary cowboy, I've got my own ride. But thank you." You lean in to give Jack a kiss on the cheek. As you pull away, you smile at the cute blush that's come over his cheeks.

"Whenever you need Darlin'. I'll be here for ya." Jack takes your hand in his and gives it a quick kiss. His eyes peer into yours from under his hat. He drops your hand and bites his lip to stop himself from asking you for another dance.

"I know you will Jack"

You practically have to peel yourself away from him. You saunter out towards the door of the bar, letting your gaze linger on Jack. He’s perched back up at the bar, a fresh drink in hand. A drink he takes down much faster than the first one. As you open the door to leave, you call out to him once more. "I'll give you a call!" You smile playfully, both of you knowing full well you didn't exchange numbers.

From across the bar, you see him light up just a little bit more. He sends you off with a smile, "Anytime pretty baby!" He calls back at you from his spot back at the bar.

As the door shuts behind you, you feel your heart break for the second time that night. The sight of your cowboy sitting by himself nearly enough to make you cave. Still, you carry on to the walk back to your car. The cool night air dances along your skin, leaving goosebumps in its path and reminding you of the empty space around you. Even with the growing physical distance between you, your mind still wanders back to Jack. Back inside you felt so warm, so loved, and just so wanted. It'd be easy to turn around and drown in the fantasy of the stranger; but as much as you'd like to, you can't live in a daydream. So, you get in the car.

Glancing over at the bar once more, a love sick smile overcomes you. You chuckle at yourself, knowing you’ll be thinking back to this night for a long time.

"Thank you Jack." you whisper into the night as you drive off with the comfort that everything will be alright.

Maybe in another life you would make Jack yours. Take him home, make him your husband. Bake him the world’s best apple pie. But in this lifetime at least, he was a stranger. That's all he'll ever be, a stranger in a bar.

A stranger in a bar, who stole just a little bit of your heart.

[bokebelle]

𝐚𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 + 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭 —

WARNINGS: oral (afab) receiving, light degradation, face riding, finger sucking, gn! reader CHARACTERS: eren yeager, levi ackerman, jean kirstein, porco galliard a/n: yay for being able to finish a wip ! also not proofread bc my brain was not ready

reposting from my other blog !!!

eren yeager — Eren eats you out for his pride and your pleasure. The grip he has on your thighs is tight as he spreads your legs open wide before him — he almost dares you to close them even just an inch. He gauges what he does with the way your back arches off the bed, or how you grab onto his hair, but he's so sure of the way his tongue darts in and out of your cunt. Eren keeps his eyes on as you lose yourself on his tongue. There's a smug look of pride in them as he watches you squeeze your eyes shut as his ministrations bring you closer and closer to your high. Eren loves watching the way your face scrunches up in pleasure as a string of broken moans leave your lips. He loves watching the way legs twitch when he gives your abused clit kitten licks, almost amused at how the smallest movements could have your cunt clenching for him again. He'd lick your slick off his lips, eyes still on you, and your cunt still spread out before him. Even as you try and bring your knees together, he'd push them apart just to watch the way your cum glistens against your pussy because of him.

“fuck, baby.” Eren groans as he practically pins your knees to the mattress, exposing your cunt. “you’re suck a fucking whore for spreading your legs for me like this. But you’re still my pretty whore so why don’t I make my baby feel good?”

levi ackerman —

Levi doesn’t eat you out, he feasts like a starving man. The moment he holds your hips down, there’s no stopping him. He isn’t afraid to get messy either. Levi spreads your lips apart with gentle fingers, marveling a bit how pretty you are before spitting onto your cunt and diving in. Your juices and his spit smear onto the lower half of his face as he presses his tongue deep into your clenching whole, tasting every bit of you. His fingers are coated in your cum as he pumps them in and out of your cunt while he sucks on your swollen clit. Levi doesn’t give a damn if your slick is smeared all over his lips and face, his fingers, and all over your thighs. His tongue messily laps against the sensitive nub, his fingers hitting your sweet spot over and over again until the sensation has you creaming all over his fingers. As Levi withdraws his fingers from your cunt, he doesn’t hesitate to tell you open wide, and sucking his fingers clean.

“open up, brat” Levi orders, his steel eyes fixed on your dazed expression, moving his fingers towards your slightly parted mouth. He can feel the way his cock strains against his boxers as your lips wrap around his digits, at the way your tongue licks up the mess you’ve made, and the sinful moan you make when you taste yourself. Once he’s satisfied, with the way you’ve sucked his fingers clean, you two can move on to satisfy some other needs he has.

jean kirstrein —

Jean eats you out like he has all the time in the world. Jean knows he makes you feel good, but he just wants to relish the way you taste and the way you feel. His grip on our thighs is gentle but secure as you hover over his face. He takes his time eating you out, building up your orgasm until you’re a mess above him. He stars off slow and steady, licking long stripes up your cunt and around your clit, working his way to faster, more pressured licks until he can feel the way you’re practically grinding your cunt against his face. Jean never leaves you wanting more. So when he feels how desperate you are, grinding down and moaning out his name so sweetly, he’ll flip you onto your back and deliver. He’ll suck and lick at your clit and fuck you with his fingers, massaging your walls, making the coil in your stomach curl tighter and tighter until it snaps. Jean loves massaging your twitching muscles, leaving kisses on your thighs and working his way up until he can kiss your lips.

“that’s it, just relax sweetheart” jean coos as your incoherent babbling and cries die down. His large hands massage the meat of your thighs, relaxing the tensed up muscles. He places a kiss on your inner thigh, then onto either side of your hip, He kisses up your stomach and chest, up to your neck until he captures your lips in his. His hold on you tightens when he feels your tongue swipe across his lower him. “see how fucking good you taste, sweetheart? How can I ever resist you?”

porco galliard —

Porco eats you out with no shame whatsoever. Why should he be ashamed anyway? He’s proud of the way he can make you come undone with his fingers and his tongue. He’s a messy eater too and he makes sure everyone knows he’s feasting like a king. Porco has the filthiest mouth and says the vilest things before he’s even fingered you yet. It should be embarrassing but the way he calls you his bitch has your pussy growing wetter by the minute. Lewd sounds fill the air when he eats you out. Everything from the most obnoxious noise he makes when he spits onto your cunt, to the almost pornographic moans leaving your lips mixed with the loudest squelching sound as his fingers push through the walls of your pussy. Porco loves being vocal too, making a show of how loud he can be when he tries to fuck you deep with his tongue, or the most obvious sucking noises when he’s focusing on your needy clit. The only time Porco ever shuts up and let’s his mouth work quietly is when you’re tugging on his blond hair, screaming out his name as you cum, clenching down hard on his fingers.

“fuck, Pock-“ you try and cry out, broken moans bouncing off the walls of the room as you pulled on Porco’s hair. Your cunt was clamping down hard on his fingers as your legs spasmed around his head, but that didn’t stop Porco. In fact, that only caused him to press against your sweet spot harder and swirl his tongue around your clit faster. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, and the onslaught of his tongue and fingers was a little too much for you, and you could do nothing except moan out Porco’s name as you feel the familiar white hot sensation build up in your limbs yet again. “you’re so damn loud. I bet you want people to hear you get fucked huh? Want them to hear you get fucked like a slut? Let’s give them something to hear. C’mon now, don’t be shy babe, say my name. Let them know who fucks this pussy so well.”

taglist:

@lemvis @leviverse @bakugohoex @odmlevis @enby-bpd @dukina @ereh-simp @lazyezstudy @tetsunormous @frog-wrld @f4riytales @toji-dabi-wife @alert-arlert @tanakaslastbraincell @st4rgirlsheh@hannie2kay @notgoodforlife @crapimahuman @histarean

[helluva-hazbins]

Ok, yeah, he deserved that. And rightly as it stood, his reputation did precede him, it seemed it worked it's way all the way up to Heaven. However, that along with what he'd been up to through some odd eons, was a bit of outdated information, it was all in his past these days

"Oh, is that what I have a habit of?" he huffed a smug partial laugh.

And though he wears his facade well enough; he can't halt the memories from creeping up on him from the dark recesses of his mind, of course it all stemmed back to their time spent in Eden together, he would be remiss to believe for one second that he could gloss over any of that. He had to get Adam off of the topic before his mask would begin slipping.

"Look Adam, quite frankly, I wouldn't chain you up unless you told me you were into that, in which case I might be looking to make good on what was said previously amid the battle. SO, unless you're going to beg me to, I'd suggest you drop it." he was delivering it all in a smug deadpan demeanor by this point. "And just for the record, I wouldn't want to be tethered to you any more than you would to me. Is that put plainly enough, does that ease your mind? Because I can keep going if you really need me to."

"What do I want? What do I really want. I want to assist you in your making your way out of here, like I said prior. And you're right, I am The Devil, nothing will ever change that, it's a title and it carries with it a gosh darned ton of mythos in association, some so-called facts are greatly exaggerated and some entirely fabricated, not too much unlike the Bible itself, I'd say. And it's not all things I'm proud of these days, oh no, not if I'm being perfectly honest with you, Adam. But that doesn't mean you don't know me better than anything that's been built up or said about me and I know.... that doesn't amount to much in your perspective but I'm willing to do what I can to prove what I can to you."

It's the closest he's come in decades to taking on any smallest hint of responsibility for past actions within their extensive history together. Absolutely, he knows Adam takes issue with the idea of trusting him, it makes him feel the slightest bit sullied if he allows his pride to take hold so he does what he can to overlook it but if it will allow the first man to possibly see that they can work on those trust issues starting now then Lucifer is willing to open that door—slowly.

"We have undeniable proof that a sinner can go up there, one of my daughter's cases was confirmed having made his way up to Heaven, he was redeemed. Charlie proved us all wrong. Ask me again why I'm so interested in this redemption shit. I'll tell ya. I owe it to my daughter, and I will not be letting her down."

Lucifer was right about one thing....Adam wasn't trusting any deal or offer with the literal devil. The way his eyes flashed indicated that his patience was fraying very fast.....and that the burning pit of magma in his gut was threatening to spill over.

" I don't fucking know. But you've always had a fucking habit of showing up in places and fucking people over in them...."

He didn't trust a thing Lucifer said. He couldn't trust him.....not anymore.

" Nobody sown here wants to do something because they're just nice. What the fuck so you REALLY want, Lu? Winners told me all the time about deals with the fucking devil and shit.....if you're trying to chain me up like one of your lost souls....."

He didn't have to explain what he' do. The room was burning hot from his rage. The walls starting to bubble fast as the wall paper curled. Whatever was Adam's demon power....it seemed far more lethal than his angel power had ever been......

" I want to fucking go home. But you can't go back up there. Why are you so interested in this redemption shit? You know it's fucking impossible...."