#watched the movie last Saturday and it was great

[crashing9against9the9walls]

But I'm in the trees, I'm in the breeze

My footsteps on the ground

You'll see my face in every place

But you can't catch me now

[randomfoggytiger]

One of these days I would love to read your meta on the last scene in Je Souhaite.

No pressure 😊

Will add that to the list!

I'm on a mini break (and there's another meta project brewing on the back burner); but will get to this as soon as I can because it sounds fun. :DDDD

[artdcnaldson]

yknow those wives who have affairs with men they meet at the gym? yea so that but its art fucking the pretty, young thing from the yoga class his trainer signed him up for. something about mindfulness and old joints, honestly art wasnt listening, too busy thinking about how embarrassed he would be trying to do yoga in a public gym, a nice gym, but public nonetheless. but the first time he goes he picks the matt next to yours, youre no professional but youre a hell of a lot better than he is, as is everyone else but he's not looking at them. you end up chatting afterwards and it just kind of become routine for you to share those classes when you're both there. grabbing a juice together afterwards. and before either of you really understand whats happening, juice turns to lunch, one class a week turns to 3 or 4, a cup of coffee on the weekend turns to regular dinners. and suddenly he's fucking you in the back of his car in the parking lot of your building, all the yoga really paying off with the ways he's bending you trying to make it work in the cramped space. he was really just going to drive you home, like he always does, but you're just so pretty and he swears he saw tashi texting a number with the name "p" last night... so he kisses you and then hes rutting into your pussy, begging oyu to cum around him, let him feel your pussy get tight like that, strangle his cock.... many a thought

-🐞

GODDDDD <3 <3 <3

He isn't going to cheat, he isn't going to cheat, he is NOT going to cheat. It runs through his mind every fucking class after that first one. He's there to improve mobility, to help him get out of his head and be mindful, to kick the horrible anxiety that he's developed since the injury, that's worsened since New Rochelle.

He's not there for you. Even if you're the only person there he talks to. Even if he looks forward to seeing you every morning when he wakes up. Even if he suffers through gross pressed juice after each class because it means more time with you.

You make him happy, in a way he hasn't felt in a really long time. Desirable, interesting, worthwhile. You smile at him across the table when you go out for lunch, and sometimes you duck your head to hide giddy little smiles when he says something sweet. He'll reach across the table and his fingers will brush against your hand, and you won't move away. Your fingers stretch out, feel his, and that's good, that's fine.

It's not cheating. Coffee on Saturday mornings when there aren't any classes scheduled isn't cheating. Texting with your name replaced with a single letter to be discreet isn't cheating. Getting dinner isn't cheating. Watching movies together in your cute little apartment isn't cheating.

Surely Tashi knows. But why would she care when she's got a secret of her own? He know's she's texting Patrick. She has been since the challenger, working out the minutiae of what her coaching him will entail, and it makes Art's stomach turn. That incessant buzzing in his ear like a gnat, the constant question of if Patrick is fucking his wife. Again.

Art had said he would try. He would try to keep playing past the open, and he'd try to fix their marriage. But that was an optimistic promise made in the aftermath of a great fucking game of tennis. It wasn't until later that the resentment and anxiety reared its ugly head.

And then there's you. You don't watch tennis, you don't care about his ranking, you don't expect anything of him. All you expect of him is the pleasure of his company. And god, you look so sweet, sitting in the passenger seat of his jeep. For the past ten minutes, you’ve been rambling on and on about the new show you started watching, how you swear he'd like it, really.

"You're quiet," you say once he's pulled into the parking garage and killed the car. You reach across the center console and put a hand on his arm. "Everything okay?"

No. He's thinking about Tashi and Patrick. Of a text that flashed across her screen that morning from a contact that's just P, "when are you telling art?" He's thinking about affairs, about how he wants one thing to himself, and why can't that be you?

So he kisses you, and you can feel the desperation and need in the rough press of his mouth against yours, in the slow lave of his tongue, licking into your mouth like he wants to savor the taste of you. And you just take it, moaning into his mouth, soft and pretty.

"You're married," you pant as you both climb into the backseat. You say it like you haven't been craving this exact moment since you first saw him walking into the class with an overfull gym bag and a plain gray mat slung over one shoulder. You say it because if you don’t, you’ll feel worse.

But he just silences you with another hungry, desperate kiss that you return in kind. You paw at his shirt, trying to tug it off without breaking the kiss. Art laughs against your mouth and sits back on his heels to peel it off.

He likes the way you look up at him, like he’s the best thing you’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s never felt that from anyone before, never felt like much more than a second choice. A consolation prize. Your hand is small, sliding along the plane of his chest, dipping down to his abs. It’s like you’re marveling at him, appreciating his body the way you’d appreciate a work of art.

Your hand slides down and you palm him almost timidly, feeling the hard length of him in your palm. He groans, a low, masculine sound that makes heat bloom in the pit of your stomach. You’ve heard something similar, when he’s stretching out a particularly tight muscle, or when you’re doing partner poses in yoga class— a hot, panted groan in your ear due to the proximity. But this is entirely new— addicting in the best way.

You don’t care that he’s married. Well, you do, but you just want him to be happy. You can make him happy— can give him something more than what he has. Doesn’t he deserve that?

Your clothes are shed quickly, easily. Peeled off smooth skin, discarded into the floorboard. All of your senses are flooded with Art’s hands, the way they grasp at your exposed skin, feeling, holding, possessing— His mouth, searing hot where he laves at your throat, over your tits. He sucks your nipple into his mouth and it makes you mewl. Arching into his touch.

“I want— fuck— I want to do so much to you,” he mumbles against your skin. He nips at the plush skin of your tits, promising bruises that will remind you in the morning you hadn’t just dreamt it all. “I just need to have you.”

You’d let him do anything. You’d let him carve you open and replace everything inside with him, him, him. And he does, in a way. When he lines up with your cunt and drives in, burying himself deep inside, it feels like he’s all that’s left of you.

The car rocks on its axels as he fucks you, deep and slow. It drives gasps and moans from your lips each time he bottoms out, when you feel his cock deep in your cunt, when his balls press tight against your body.

Art moans a desperate, masculine sound, his breath coming hot. The windows fog, dripping condensation in slow trails. “I think I love you,” Art groans, the words slipping out as he gets closer and closer and closer.

He’s married. He’s probably only saying it in a fuckdrunk haze. It’s a bad decision, you’d both regret it in the morning.

“I love you,” you tell him, softly. Earnest as he’s ever heard it said. He cums hard, grinding slow and deep so it’s as deep as possible.

He walks you to the door, kisses your cheek, tells you he’ll see you at the studio soon. When he gets home, he doesn’t tell Tashi, but she can sense it on him. The secret seeps from his pores. Good for him. It’s about time he does something for himself.

His next tournament is beautiful— his best tennis in a while. And maybe it’s best for Tashi to turn a blind eye while Art’s winning again. Maybe.

[amywritesthings]

press four for more options. | part four.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4.6k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), sex work, pet names, alcohol, mentions of drugs, jokes about death Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part three. / return to part one. | masterlist

Night comes around.

You do not call.

In fact, you don't call the Scout Services Hotline a single time that whole weekend.

As you scroll mindlessly through social media in your bed, fluttering between apps without retaining a single word or meme, your cell phone weighs heavily in your hand.

Don't call.

Just don't call.

It isn't like you're devoid of things to do.

Going out is an option.

Being around people may help your mood — but you don’t feel like unearthing from your snuggie poncho.

Putting on a movie can be a great distraction — but you know your attention span would barely last through the opening credits.

It was him.

Right there.

Right in front of you.

Levi from Scout Services, alive and in the flesh, holding your phone.

No amount of mental gymnastics can make you doubt otherwise. 

He has a voice like no other; one that haunts your day dreams and soothes your nightmares, one that brings this sudden urge to do better for yourself—

Ironically, to be independent and strong on your own.

Which, actually, really fucking sucks now that you’re stuck with the decision to totally disappear from the gym, too.

(Kind of thwarts the whole ‘new me’ chest-puffing you’d started Friday with.)

So you make a final decision:

You still have to go to the gym Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.

Even if you say nothing, keep to yourself, remain a shadow, you have to go.

(There’s a fragile line drawn in the sands of reality. You can toe the edge, but you refuse to. This is his livelihood. You’re not delusional to believe you’re a main character exception.)

Coincidentally, Levi goes every day, too. 

Your stomach flip-flops with the unsettling realization that your perch on a treadmill actually gives you a perfect vantage point to watch him as he sets his station up every morning.

Meticulously he sets towels down to place his shaker bottle and water thermos down, as if worried the ground hadn’t been cleaned overnight.

He even takes the disinfectant cloths and cleans every dumbbell he lines up neatly before starting his workout.

The dark-haired man truly is less-than-average in height, which isn’t a turn-off to you in the slightest, but his arms — his goddamn arms.

Levi wasn’t kidding when he told you that he could pick you up.

He could probably pick two of you up, one arm each.

They’re so toned, his forearms veiny from morning dehydration.

Training vigorously in his own world, not once does he notice that you’re the bumbling idiot that’s tripped on the treadmill (see: a few times) from dissociating.

Hell, he hasn’t a single fucking clue that you’re close enough to yell across the room to him.

Would he know?

That you’re Scarlet.

His, in some made-up world.

(Does your voice stand out in a sea of lonely people?)

The cleaning ritual extends to his cooldown, where he properly cleans each piece of equipment before nestling it back in its place.

Levi sits on his phone for a second, dropping down to a bench to scroll — text messages.

(Damn it, have you really resorted to minor stalking?)

As soon as he stands, though, you drop your chin to watch your sneakers rhythmically pass one another on the treadmill belt.

He passes like a ghost, evaporating into the men’s locker room without a word.

This is torture.

You miss him.

But you still refuse to call.

Can't — because in another world you may be his, but in this world, he is not yours.

.

.

— —

.

.

    Tuesday night rolls around and you decide you hate life.

Annie, Eren, Reiner, and Mikasa are already there by the time you walk into the downtown hotspot.

The boys as well as Mikasa are still in their suit attire from work, their ties loosened at their necks. Annie’s in a hoodie and jeans, clearly much more interested in having a comfortable evening.

If the emptied shot glasses are any indicator of the plans for this evening, then you steel yourself for one hell of a Wednesday.

You glide through the busy crowds of the bar towards the group.

Bodies upon bodies crowd this place — it’s never not a zoo at this hour, no matter the day. Saying excuse me would only waste breath. 

A live band croons on the far end of the smoky bar, forcing everyone to talk ten decibels higher just to hear the conversation.

(Can’t you turn around and go home while you’re ahead?)

In the sea of people, a pair of emerald green eyes over by a cluster of tables in the right-hand corner catch your movement. They widen, recognizing your face, and a lopsided grin of surprise follows.

“Holy shit, she left her cave!” Eren yells, holding up a cheap beer in salute to your arrival.

(Thanks Jeager, you little fuck.)

You don’t hear what she says, but you can see Mikasa’s lips part in tandem with a sharp elbow jab straight to his ribs.

Eren instantly falters his salute, souring in pain.

“I know. Don’t be so shocked,” you state to your colleagues, leaning up against the circular high-top table. “Am I the last to show?”

“Nah, you’re right on time. Armin and Jean’re on their way,” Reiner grunts, holding onto a comically small cosmopolitan in his rather large hand. “Sasha’s on babysitting duty with Nicco.”

You look around the bar for any other familiar faces.

“And Connie?”

“Passed out,” Mikasa supplies. “Took edibles after work.”

“There’s no chance in hell anyone’s waking him,” Eren snorts. “Fucker’s toast.”

Reiner sighs. “For what it’s worth, Jean tried.”

“No, Armin tried,” Annie corrects, finally piping up. She holds something on the rocks — brandy? Whiskey? You can’t tell. “Jean just laughed and kept trying to draw shit on his face.”

“You didn’t see the Snapchat he sent?” Eren asks after a gulp of his beer.

You shake your head, knowing damn well you’ve avoided using your phone for the last several days. 

Missed texts, abandoned tagged tweets, your streak in your mobile game ruined — anything so you wouldn’t be tempted to click that little number.

Damn it.

Enough wallowing.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you state, disengaging with the table. “Anyone need anything?”

From your peripheral, you see a familiar mop of blonde hair walking towards your group. At his side is a much taller man sliding through the crowd, navigating the shorter one to the tiny table you’ve commandeered from the masses.

Armin and Jean.

Reiner and Annie shake their heads.

“Nope, I’m solid.”

“Good here.”

“Eren’s got the next round of shots,” Mikasa flatly states. “You’re fine.”

“Ha, hell yeah!” Eren exclaims, before he settles into a confused pause of silence. His head whips to Mikasa, blinking twice. “Wait, what?”

You don’t stick around for that aftermath.

Squeezing back into the lion’s den of people, you try not to get hit with any too-full beverages or waving hands.

You manage to weave and duck, eventually finding a small empty corner at the edge of the bar.

Success.

You rush to claim it before someone else can, your forearm on the wooden surface. 

Holding up two fingers to get the one of the three bartender’s attention, she nods once to acknowledge she sees you — she’ll get there eventually.

Two empty stools are available, so you scoot onto the one closest to the wall while waiting for your turn and drop your purse onto the other while you situate yourself. 

It’ll likely take a while if the busyness of the staff has anything to say about it.

An hour.

All you need to do is last one whole hour.

Chat a bit, mingle a little so everyone at work doesn’t think you’re a total goddamn recluse, then you can go—

“Is this seat taken?”

A question sounding to your left breaks your train of thought.

The seat.

The one next to you, where your purse lay.

Way to go, dumbass.

You answer on autopilot, not thinking twice about it.

“Oh — shit, yeah. I mean, no! No it’s not. I’m sorry.”

As your torso turns to grab your purse off of the deep red stool, your eyes drop to make sure nothing spills out of it.

“Hold on, let me just move—”

Your chin lifts to find yourself staring eye to eye with Levi.

Wait.

Levi?!

His cheekbones look even sharper under the warm hue of the bar lights overhead, lips parted like he was interrupted in asking a question.

The whites of his eyes grow more prominent with every passing second, making the blue-gray color of them stand out in stark contrast to the black curtain of fringe falling against his temples.

The realization that you spoke — that he’s seen your face before — seems to be hitting him like a goddamn freight train.

Your blood runs cold as your own eyes round.

“...my stuff.”

Weakly you finish your thought, wishing for nothing but death right now. 

Maybe a stranger, like a secret agent with wicked strength, will simply rush the bar and put you in a headlock and knock you out. 

Maybe your drink will be poisoned. 

You’re happy for anything so long as it’s swift.

Levi grunts in acknowledgement, slowly finding a spot on the empty stool beside yours.

Both of you swivel towards the bar, staring ahead.

Silence.

For what feels like hours, neither of you speak. The noise of the bar becomes overwhelming.

Somehow the surrounding voices feel amplified when you’ve lost your own. 

It’s trapped between a thousand apologies and half a dozen explanations that sound worse than the one before it.

You need to get up.

Excuse yourself out. 

Leave.

You won’t get your damn drink, but that’s fine so long as you’re not here.

“How’s your phone?”

Eventually Levi speaks, and you find yourself wishing he hadn’t. 

The effect of his voice is even worse in person — so buttery smooth, the gravel much deeper in his chest now that there isn’t a phone receiver to dilute it.

“Not… damaged,” you reply cautiously.

“Good.”

Another stretch of silence passes, and you forget about ordering drinks altogether.

Your eyes drop to view his folded hands, how the veins protrude even when resting.

His fingers are slender, strong, and hate yourself for yearning.

You have to apologize.

This is crossing a line.

You need to—

“So—”

“I’m canceling my subscription.”

You blurt a fraction later than Levi, proclaiming your innocence before he can ever condemn it.

When you meet his steely eyes, they squint with curiosity.

From the crown of your head to your chin, he assesses in a serpentine pattern before eventually finding your eyes once more.

“How come?” he asks, leaning further against the bar top.

“I— how come?”

You repeat his question in surprise.

Wildly gesturing towards the space between you with your hand, you snort.

“Uh, because that’s the right thing to do in this circumstance? Because seeing you in person is borderline unethical?”

He hums at that, not giving you much to work with.

“And for the record, I did not stalk you to this bar.”

“Didn’t think you did.”

“I’m actually here with friends—”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

Levi interrupts, seemingly unbothered by your rambling. 

“At the gym. I can make an educated guess and say you knew it was me from the second I opened my trap, but you didn’t say anything.”

Why isn’t he freaking out?

Shouldn’t he be freaking out?

Just as you open your mouth to continue professing your innocence, the bartender walks over and points to you.

“What can I get you?”

You blanch, no longer remember how to order drinks. 

“I—”

“I got her tab,” Levi interrupts casually, tapping his index finger into the counter. “Two hard seltzers.”

Then he has the audacity to glance your way.

“Pineapple, right?”

Holy shit, he remembers your favorite flavor?

Is this a flex?

(It kind of feels like a flex; a way to say I know you, I was there.)

“...pineapple’s fine,” you murmur in return, hesitant.

The bartender doesn’t waste another second to rummage in the mini fridge on the other side of the bar for two slim cans.

For another agonizing thirty seconds, neither of you say a word.

He raises his chin to watch whatever sport’s game is playing overhead on the television.

You stare at your mirrored reflection in the bar backsplash.

This is real life.

The man you’ve spent hours talking to over the phone to, getting off to, is sitting right beside you, yet he isn’t trying to create distance.

If anything, he’s buying you a damn drink and asking you why.

Why didn’t you say something?

“I didn’t say anything at the gym because that would have been extremely inappropriate,” you finally argue under your breath, keeping the conversation strictly between you. “What would I have said? ‘Oh hey, guy I've paid to talk to on the phone every single night for the past week. Isn’t it crazy that I actually go to the same gym as you?’ That’s so creepy.” 

When he says nothing, still staring at you, you continue to bury yourself into a deeper grave.

“I mean, I thought you lived, like… a billion miles from me. Maybe from another planet.”

His brows pinch with amusement. 

“On Mars, or…?”

Oh.

He’s joking.

He’s actually joking about this.

You turn your chin, brow furrowed. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, and you have to force yourself to maintain eye contact.

“I wondered why you looked so scared of me on Friday. Thought maybe I smelled like shit from my workout.”

No, you want to say. Unfortunately it was the goddamn opposite.

“So you’re not…”

“Worried you’re a stalker trying to dox me because of my job?”

Levi blatantly finishes, and you wince.

Clearly he notices your embarrassment, because he sighs and relaxes his shoulders.

“I’m more pissed that you didn’t call all weekend, but then again, that’s the nature of the job.”

You both watch each other for a moment as the bartender returns, passing you both pineapple hard seltzers to nurse.

He pushes your can to your hand, nudging the icy-cold aluminum against your thumb, then picks up his own.

“The nature of the job?” you repeat, and he nods.

“People get bored. Run out of funds. Novelty wears off fast.” 

Levi shrugs, sipping his drink. 

“Just because you like talking to someone doesn’t mean they stick around. Wouldn’t blame 'em — shit gets expensive quick.”

“I just…”

You trail off, fighting to find the correct words to say.

“...I thought it wasn’t right to call again, knowing I knew what you looked like, so I didn’t.” 

Explaining yourself makes your tongue feel sluggish, like you were caught red-handed in a crime you didn’t know you’d committed until hindsight.

“I can leave you alone,” you decide to add, holding your drink tighter. “Like I said, I’m here with my friends and… after all, you were doing your job. A great job. You’re kind of the reason I’m even here in the first place.”

Levi’s brow knits, and your eyes widen.

“Not like that!”

“Pretty shit at asserting yourself even in person,” he murmurs like it’s a cheeky inside joke, and he sips once more. “So how am I the reason?”

He’s not angry.

Hell, he’s conversational.

Not the least bit worried about how you’ve both managed to get here.

Might as well be honest.

“Because I decided to stop being a little less scared of the world,” you confess softly. “It— That’s why I got to the gym so early on Friday. I wanted to start doing strength training, like how you talk about how much you love it. And… I thought, maybe, I’d spend more time with friends. Get out there more. Be more assertive — beyond right now, obviously.”

The dark-haired man’s expression smooths at that in a mixture of recognition and surprise.

The slide of his brow is beautiful, and your heart squeezes at the sight of an animated Levi in the flesh, just as you pictured.

“Do you have to go back to your friends right now?”

At first you don’t quite register his question, but then it causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

He looks left to right, as if trying to find your troop of buddies, before returning his attention back to you.

“You don’t… want me to leave?”

Levi shakes his head.

You feel bolted to your stool, unable to move even if you wanted to.

Simultaneously you sip your drinks, keeping eye contact.

It feels intimate.

Too intimate.

“So, then…” You start slowly. “What does this mean?”

“Well,” Levi begins, mulling it over in his head. “Means the whole provider-client relationship has basically gone to shit. You know my face, now I know yours.”

“Right.”

“Then again, that professionalism was already well into a shit pile way before Friday morning.”

You blink, not following. “Huh?”

“There’s nothing in the company policy about what to do when you stumble into your client at the damn local gym, but there sure as hell wasn’t anything about…”

Levi trails off, clenching his jaw in debate.

“...about crossing the line I practically leapt over. I’m good at my job because of my detachment, but this was the only time I bordered on unethical myself. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

Sorry.

Levi… was sorry?

The words blurt faster than you can stop yourself. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

His eyes widen with a budding uncertainty.

“I… just said I crossed the line?”

“When?”

“On the phone?”

“Okay, duh, but when?”

“Our last session.”

“So that was real.”

Levi actually got off to your voice.

If you weren’t in such shock about sitting here face-to-face with him at a local bar, then perhaps your ego would have, in fact, made a crash landing on Mars.

He considers his next words very carefully. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

Then he sips more before shaking his head.

“Look. It’s… a job a friend of mine got me. I’m not a real-life Casanova or any of that shit. Hell, most of my time was spent training punks to fight in a boxing ring, so I never had the energy for relationships or dating.”

You can't hide your surprise. “You were a fighter?”

He makes a noncommittal face.

“Loosely. Personal trainer, training in general — fell into it after I got out of the service.”

“Right, you were in the army,” you murmur, and the edge of his lips upticks at your recollection.

“A couple of months ago the gym I worked for went under, money got tight, so I thought I’d try it out. Guess everyone says it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, but bossing fighters around and fielding horny-ass callers ain't all that different."

Levi turns his chin just so to regard you under a wispy black fringe.

“I can usually predict what someone wants. The people that call this hotline shit, they’re in and out."

He takes a pause.

"You, though — the second I picked up your call, you threw me through a goddamn loop.”

You use your nail on your index finger to absently scratch the side of your thumb, attempting to process everything he’s telling you.

"First night we spoke, actually, I ended up at this very bar to contemplate why the fuck I wanted you to call back. Didn't want you blowing your money on it, obviously, it's overpriced and ridiculous, but — it clearly shook me up enough for me to take then ten-minute walk in the middle of the night in the first place."

Ten minutes.

That length of time strikes something in you.

“So, your… office building isn’t far?” you slowly ask.

Levi shakes his head. “No, no office. I work remotely. Kind of the reason why I took the gig in the first place. I wouldn’t do this shit if I had an audience in a damn two-by-four cube.”

You’re not sure what possesses you to confess it, but you point past your shoulder. 

“My apartment complex is actually six blocks down the street.”

Ten minutes away, is your implication.

His hand had raised to sip from his seltzer can, but it halts immediately.

His eyes narrow. 

“The complex on Junction Ave?”

“Yeah," you say.

“Right across from—”

“The Reiss deli.”

That narrowed gaze shoots wide. “You’re shitting me.”

“You say the word shit a lot.”

“Baby, I live there,” he blurts.

“Wait, what?”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.

(You’re too shocked to even process what he called you.)

He huffs in a brief laugh, shaking his head.

“You gotta be fucking with me.”

“I’m not! Wait, you live in the same building as me?”

“You said Thomas was your goddamn mailman,” Levi states. “Do you know how many fucking Thomas the Mailmen there are in this world? I didn’t think we’d have the same one.”

Holy shit.

Oh, holy shit.

You sit up taller in your seat. “Wait, what floor?”

“Sixteenth.”

“I’m on the tenth!” you exclaim in your shock. “Holy shit, so you…”

Have been right above me this entire time.

Your phone buzzes, ruining your train of thought. 

Reflexively you look down to see the preview of Annie’s message over your lock screen.

[A. LEONHART]: Did u die?

Right.

You’re here with friends.

“Friends wondering where you are?” Levi inquiries at the sight of your growing frown.

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

You swipe the screen north and type a reply.

[ME]: Talking to someone. Be over in a bit.

Annie’s reply is immediate, and you turn your phone from Levi’s view in mortification.

[A. LEONHART]: 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

[A. LEONHART]: WINGMAN??? NEED????

[ME]: NO! Do not come over here!

[A. LEONHART]: ok ok ok noted

[A. LEONHART]: i’ll keep jaeger to the left end of the bar

“Looks urgent.”

“Huh?” 

You shoot a glance back up to Levi, who’s now angled towards you with his cheek squished against his clenched fist. His elbow props him up on the bar top. 

“No! No. It’s just my friend Annie. She — is actually the one who gave me the number to that hotline in the first place,” you confess.

Levi hums in that delicious way you’ve come to crave. 

“I don’t want to derail your evening. I’ve already taken you away from them for a while.”

Your heart is hesitant, but it grows despite yourself. 

“If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay,” you quietly state. “I… liked talking to you. I mean, beyond the whole — you know.”

He nods once, setting his drink down. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want you to disappear, either. My job’s not exactly corporate. Not many people can separate fantasy from reality. With you, I never had to bullshit what it was, but…”

Levi trails off, sighing heavily.

“...but I also understand if it’s just a fantasy, for you.”

Something nestles itself between the lines of his words. 

Something he isn’t saying outright, sussing out if he has any right to try.

“Do you really mean that, Levi?”

That sigh turns into a curbed huff, smile fleeting but enough to bring your stomach butterflies. 

“Damn. Sounds nice, hearing my name in person.”

Oh, sweet Jesus.

You could scream into your damn seltzer, but you decide to play it as cool as you possibly can.

“So Levi’s your real name?”

He nods.

“Not creative enough to come up with an alias."

Levi shifts, rolling out a shoulder.

"But to answer your question, I’m saying I… yeah, I mean it. I wouldn’t mind asking you out for coffee sometime, given we seem to run on the same gym schedule as it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to leave it at the hotline and call it a day — no pun intended.”

Are you seriously hearing what he’s saying right now?

Does Levi want to step out of a fantasy and into your reality?

Your lips part with a million questions only to end up blurting a very stupid one: 

“Are you single?”

That earns a bark of a laugh, causing his head to gloriously drop back, exposing his neck.

(All you want to do is sink your teeth into it.)

“Yes. Very,” he promises. “Are you, still?”

“Very,” you promise back.

“And my job doesn’t bother you?”

You haven't quite gotten that far, logistically, but it's only a coffee.

He isn't asking to marry you.

Besides, he talks about it like any other office job. You can't find any ill feeling toward it.

“Work is work,” you argue with a one-shoulder shrug. “Sure, it’s unconventional, but… I’m so used to not knowing what I want, or second-guessing what’s good for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever second guessed a damn thing with you.”

Bringing the seltzer back up to his mouth, Levi smirks against the can, mulling something over. 

You smile in return, sipping your drink.

It's the truth.

He may not really know you, but he knows you.

Just as you're beginning to think you know him.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

He steals a ballpoint pen from a dampened closed check from his left side.

Then he snatches a napkin from one of the bartending stations with lemons, limes, and straws.

Hunching over, he scribbles on said napkin, before turning a cheek to you.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow morning—”

Levi then sits up taller, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand resting on the bar top. 

His skin is smooth. 

Heated. 

Your entire body melts to his whim as he turns your wrist over, palm facing up.

One by one his fingers unfurl your fingers, nestles the napkin in your hand, then closes your fist for safe keeping.

“—give me a call.”

Leaving a twenty on the bar counter, Levi lets go of your hand to slip off of his stool.

You say nothing as you watch him give you one last once-over, expression full of admiration, before turning into the sea of people.

A call.

Flexing your hand, you uncrinkle the napkin to read the number etched black on white.

Not the Scout Services Hotline.

No — his number.

Your attention flies back to the original spot where you've now properly abandoned your friends, but you know they'll forgive you for your absence.

Annie knows.

She'll cover for your abrupt disappearance.

On autopilot you yank out your phone, bypassing the texts from your friends, emails from work, and tap the little telephone icon.

Zero through nine appear.

Hastily you type the number, hesitation long gone, and press send.

One ring.

Two.

By the third, it abruptly cuts. You hear shuffling in the background. Cars beeping.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

Levi Ackerman.

Knowing his full name warms your heart.

Standing from your stool, you rise to your toes to search the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Levi stands there on the sidewalk, holding his phone up to his ear.

��Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

Immediately he turns to the bar, searching the very same window.

Searching for you.

You smile to yourself.

"My schedule just opened up. I know it's a little late for some coffee, but..."

Trailing off, your teeth catch your bottom lip.

Be selfish.

"Are you free for some tea now?”

.

FIN

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

How are we feeling, Hotliner Nation? I teased that this may not be the end of this story. I'm not against writing a sequel, whether to continue the immediate story or time skip, but I wanted to see what people thought before I spoke too soon. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed our hotline journey together.

In the meantime I invite you to follow me here or subscribe to my AO3, as I have other projects in the works (including finishing the final chapters of my canon-based amnesia au with Levi, Silver Underground.)

The last two months have been such a wonderful journey, and I thank every single one of you for engaging the way you have. I never anticipated such a frenzy when I started P4, so sincerely, from the bottom of my heart - thank you for the comments, reblogs, inbox mssgs, etc. Every reblog gives this writer wings.

[sweetbans29]

Sleepy - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader Summary: 3 times Caitlin falls asleep when she's not supposed to and 1 time when you do

Warnings: absolute cuteness

Word Count: 2.6k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Enjoy!

one. previews.

It's a Saturday night and you and Caitlin have a movie night planned. She has been going hard in training causing her to be pretty drained but she is never one to cancel plans with you.

You decided you wanted to go see the new romcom - Anyone But You which Caitlin was all for.

The two of you get to the theater early. One of your favorite things about going to the movies is watching the previews. You head to the concession stand and grab some drinks and popcorn. While Caitlin is deciding on what to drink, you sneak a bag of nerd clusters on the counter.

You go into the theater and begin to make yourselves comfortable. You love going to the theater that has full reclining seats - your theater has set its seats as loveseats allowing you to move the middle armrest up. It was perfect for a date night - or when Caitlin feels cuddly.

Tonight is one of those nights. As you put your drink down and situate your popcorn, Caitlin's chair is already reclined and she has raised the armrest.

Once you sit back and recline your chair, you feel a tug at your arm.

Looking over, you lift your arm thinking she wanted some of the popcorn but she just curls up into your side. You let out a little laugh and give her a little squeeze.

When Caitlin is tired, she gets really cuddly. It is one of your favorite things in the world. Your girlfriend, who is several inches taller than you, turns into a baby sloth. She slowly finds you, making her way to your side (or on top of you if your side isn't close enough for her), and rests. Most of the time she ends up falling asleep, there are some times that she just listens to your breathing. She is a simple girl.

You bring your hand up and stroke her hair. She lets out a content sigh and tries to move even closer to you.

"Babe, if you keep pushing me, I am not going to have any space," you say with a little laugh. She just groans and keeps you pinned between her and the other armrest.

The previews begin to play and your eyes are glued to the screen. It is great to see what is coming soon. By the third preview - you feel a light vibration on your chest.

You look down to see Caitlin snoring - completely knocked out. You know how hard she has been going at practices and saw the redness in her eyes on your way to the theater. She wouldn't say anything but you knew and you knew she going to be exactly in the position she was in and you couldn't care less. She loves you enough to go out and see a movie even with the chance of her falling asleep.

You bring your hand up and brush her hair behind her ear. The theater is dark with the exception of the screen lighting her face every now and again.

You can't help but look down and admire her. She is absolutely stunning. It doesn't matter the time of day or what she is doing, she will never not be beautiful to you.

She looks peaceful as you continue to play with the hair you just tucked behind her ear. You could stay like this forever.

The movie begins to play and you are in a predicament - do you let your girl sleep or do you wake her up? Looking at her, her mouth is slightly opened as she is in a deep slumber. As you continue to look at her, you know she isn't here for the movie, she is here for you.

You decide to let her sleep.

You watch the whole movie, trying not to laugh or move too much. The movie ends and Caitlin hasn't moved a muscle. You let her get a few more minutes in as the credits roll and try to clean everything up with your free hand.

Once the credits end you know you have to wake your sleeping beauty. You lean down to kiss her on the head, just one last moment before you are met with your girlfriend-turned-clingy-child.

"Caitlin, love," you say as you begin to shake her. "You need to get up."

She doesn't budge and you sigh. Waking Caitlin from a deep sleep is never an easy task. You typically try to avoid it if possible but under these circumstances, you don't think the theater will let you stay the night.

You begin to shake her more aggressively, although you wish you didn't have to. "Caitlin, you need to get up."

She mumbles something inaudible and buries her face in you.

You begin to pinch her sides, knowing she doesn't like it when you do that when she's tired but you are left with no option. On the second squeeze, she pops up and gives you a look that makes you feel bad.

"We need to go home love," you say, believing she isn't aware of her surroundings.

She looks around and is confused. When she looks back at you she says, "What happened to the movie?" She gets up and you grab all of your trash, heading out of the theater.

"You were so tired and looked so peaceful that I didn't want to wake you. Plus I know you only came for me and that was enough for me," you say and give your girl a smile.

"I can't believe you let me sleep through the whole movie, I actually wanted to see that one," she says.

You give a little laugh.

“Babe, you and I both know if I would have woken you up, you would have fallen right back to sleep.” You say.

“I wouldn’t not have,” she fights back, knowing you are 100% right.

You just give her a look and a little push. You both know you were right.

two. study break.

It is a cloudy Thursday afternoon when Caitlin comes over to study. Your girlfriend is in the thick of the season which means she is as busy as ever. But just because she is a college athlete, doesn't mean she is exempt from school work.

The two of you have a big exam coming up for one of your classes and decided that you would study for a few hours each day to make sure you are both prepared. You were committed to making sure Caitlin kept up her grades. As much as she tries to fight you at times, she knows the importance of finishing her degree.

She gets to your place and immediately crashes on your bed.

"Are you ready to get to studying?" You ask as you bring your book over and settle on the bed next to her.

"Why don't we take a rest day and binge some Ted Lasso or something," she suggests, not in the mood to study.

"Caitlin Clark, the exam is tomorrow. We are not taking a 'rest day' for studying," you say with a little laugh.

She just rolls her eyes and hugs one of your pillows. She loves how your scent overpowers her senses whenever she is in your bed. It provides an unmatched sense of comfort.

You throw her book to her and the two of you begin studying. Occasionally asking each other questions, the time is spent with your faces buried in notes and books.

After about 45 minutes of studying, you feel a little tap on your leg. Looking up, you see Caitlin looking at you.

"Can you get us some snacks?" She asks with the same energy as a child asking their parent for a cookie before dinner. She is the cutest thing you have ever seen.

"Of course babe," you say as you stand up. You lean over to kiss the top of her head and she looks up at you waiting for a proper kiss. You are never one to deny Cait a kiss.

"Can you make us grilled cheeses?" She asks, with a glint of hope in her eyes.

"You got it, sweetheart," you tell her as you go to the kitchen to make food.

It takes you about 20 minutes to make the grilled cheese, you also headed up some tomato soup because you felt it fit the weather. You put everything on a tray and make your way back to your room.

The second you walk in, you find Caitlin passed out in your bed. She found her way under your covers and nestled herself in the middle of your bed, not even taking the time to move either of your study materials.

You shake your head and can tell you have been slightly played by your girlfriend.

You set the tray down on the ground as you sit next to Caitlin. You take some of her hair and begin to tickle her nose.

She swats it away with a groan.

"You miss are supposed to be studying." You say as you tickle her nose again.

She gets fed up with your actions and in one swift move, opens the comforter, grabs you, and brings you into her chest as she closes the covers. You have been captured by the arms of your girl and know that there is no easy way out.

"Cait, we need to keep studying," you say as you try to wiggle the way out of her grip.

"No," is all she says as she squeezes you even tighter. Her eyes are closed and she is determined to take a nap with you.

"I made you food and it is going to get cold." You say still trying to fight your way out of her arms.

"Stop. Moving." She says as she grabs one of your hands and forces it to stop from pushing you away from her.

"Cailin Clark." You try to threaten your tired girlfriend.

"We are taking a nap and that is final," she says. "When we wake up, we reheat the food, eat, and then get back to studying."

You sigh in defeat, knowing this is a battle you will not win. You move your arm being held by her to wrap around her waist. You make yourself comfortable and feel your eyelids get heavy.

Even when you don't see it, Caitlin somehow always knows what you need. She is rubbing your back as you begin to doze off.

"Sleep tight, my love," you hear her say as you let a much-needed sleep take over you.

three. drive.

You and Caitlin spent the weekend at Lake Michigan. It was a nice little getaway that both of you needed. It was Labor Day weekend which meant you had the Monday off from school, the perfect time to take a little break.

It was a great weekend. The two of you spent a lot of time just resting by the lake and enjoying each other's presence.

As you begin your drive back to Iowa, you turn over to Caitlin.

"You aren't going to fall asleep on me are you?" You say as you look over at your girlfriend.

"I am not going to fall asleep," she says.

"Okay, I am going to be watching you," you respond, not believing her.

"I promise," she says. You give her a little smile and turn on some music.

The two of you spend some time singing in the car. Once the drive slows down and you have another 2.5 hours left, Calitlin puts on a podcast.

You are hooked on what she put, everything around you fading away.

About an hour passes when the podcast comes to an end and the car goes silent.

"Babe, put something else on," you say not taking your eyes off of the road.

No response.

You look over and see your girl with her arms crossed, head leaning on the window - asleep.

The first thing you think of is that she broke her promise. The next is how cute she looks but you can't let that stop you from expressing your disappointment with her.

You decide not to wake her and let you wake up on her own.

You are about a half hour out when Caitlin begins to stir. She immediately sits up straight and looks over at you. You don't make a move and keep your eyes on the road. The car is still silent as Caitlin's phone was connected and you didn't want to use your phone while driving.

"Babe, I am so sorry," she says as she reaches over to touch your arm.

You move it slightly, signaling you don't want to feel her touch. Caitlin feels a pang in her chest.

"I know I wasn't supposed to fall asleep, I just couldn't help it," she says, eyes begging you to look her way.

"You promised." That is all you say.

"I know, baby. I promise I will make it up to you," she says, still wanting any sort of eye contact from you.

You don't say anything. After a moment you look over at her. You can see the apology in her eyes.

Taking one hand off the wheel, you grab Catilins hand and intertwine your fingers.

"You better make it up to me, I have been sitting here in silence for over an hour." You say, trying to hide the little smile that is making its way to your lips.

"Oh, don't worry babe." She says as she kisses your hand. "I have several ideas on how I can make it up to you."

ONE. basketball.

It is the first round of the NBA playoffs and Caitlin and you are posted up on her couch watching the Cavaliers play the Knicks. This was the second game the two of you were watching for the day. The first game being the Nuggets and the Timberwolves.

Whenever the two of you watch basketball together, you have to sit at opposite ends of the couch because Caitlin gets so into it, that it is impossible to sit next to her. She is always sitting one moment, then launching herself off the couch at a play. For both of your safety, opposite ends of the couch just make sense.

It is half time and you feel your eyes get heavy. You are sitting with your head leaning on your head, not the most comfortable position but the tiredness is overwhelming.

Before you know it you are passed out in the most uncomfortable position.

Caitlin is checking her phone during halftime. She is checking on the other games and scrolling through different social media platforms. She goes to ask you a question when she finds you asleep in what looks like a neck-breaking position.

The first thing she does is take a photo of you, knowing she would probably be changing her lock screen to it at some point because you’re adorable and she knows it will bug you.

She sets her phone down and makes her way to you and places a pillow in the middle of the couch. With the most delicate touch, she shifts your head into her hand, removes the pressure from your wrist, and gently lays you down on the couch. She delicately places your head on the pillow and slowly brings your legs up, bending them to tuck them into the end of the couch.

Her movements are effortless. She places a blanket on you and leans down to kiss you on the head.

She takes a second to just watch you sleep and admires your natural beauty.

She sits back on her end of the couch as the game comes back from halftime.

You end up sleeping through the rest of the game, only waking with Caitlin carrying you to her bed.

"Did they win?" You ask, not opening your eyes.

"Yes, babe. They won." Caitlin says with a little laugh. She places you in her bed and she takes her place on the other side. By the time she lays down, you have already scooted your way over to her side, ready to fall back to sleep in her arms.

AN: I feel like sleepy Caitlin would be the absolute cutest. I hope you enjoyed it! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

[sir3n-s]

Steve knew that one day he wouldn't be able to refuse to play dnd. 

Especially since he was now dating a dragons master or whatever it's called. He can't keep up with all the names. 

And don't get him wrong Eddie is great and dnd sounds sort of interesting but he's been against playing for so long he doesn't want to give up the act. 

But he if was going to give up the act he was going to get something in return. 

The kids were all gathered at Steve's house for a movie night. 

They had 2 different kinds of movie night, one where they all actually watched movies and the other where the movie was just there for background noise while everyone either talked or worked on something.

Tonight Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin were making character sheets for Eddie's new campaign while trying to get Steve to join as well. 

"Just play one campaign" Dustin whined for the 20th time that night. And probably the 100th time in his life. 

"Are you ever going to let this go?" 

"No! You have to play one now that you're dating Eddie. Aren't couples supposed to try out each other's hobbies?" He got him there.

"He's got a point Stevie," Eddie says finally engaging in the conversation after being glued to the TV. Despite the volume being low he was still watching it with intense interest. 

"You're right, couples should try each other's hobbies" Steve agreed. 

"Uh oh," Robin says without looking up from the puzzle she was going with Nancy, knowing what he was going to say next since he ran his plan through her first.

"I will play a campaign but!" He says before the kids could get too excited, "you all have to play basketball with me" 

They all groaned. Except Lucas who was completely fine with this arrangement.

-

It was Saturday and they were all at basketball court in the park. Most of them were wearing their gym clothes. 

Except for Lucas and Steve who actually had basketball jerseys. 

Max and el were also playing since they wanted to join despite the fact they won't play dnd either. 

And who was he to say no to them? The more the merrier.

Robin and Nancy were sitting at the bench in the shade, Robin saying she refuses to play a sport because she's too clumsy and Nancy saying Robin shouldn't have to sit alone. But Steve knows they just want to talk shit about them. 

He wasnt going to stop them, he knew it was a lost cause to try to get them to join as well. 

The only rule they had before playing was that Steve and Lucas couldn't be on the same team, 'it wouldn't be fair' Dustin said and everyone else agreed. Even Robin and Nancy. 

So they ended up being the team captainsin on each team. 

Steve's team was Max, Mike, and El while Lucas had Will, Dustin, and Eddie. 

And it was going well! Better than Steve thought it would. Especially with how unathletic most of them were. 

Steves team was winng, and despite Dustin whinning about how it was because Steve was older and had more experience he hasn't even made all the points. 

He did score the first point but El scored the last 2. 

It's was 3 to 1. The only point they had was from Lucas. Eddie couldn't throw for shit, Dustin kept dropping the ball, and Will was actually doing pretty well but was kinda being ignored because Lucas and Dustin wouldn't stop arguing.

He can tell eddie was getting annoyed with having to constantly break up their fights.

Their team only needed one more point to win and Mike had the ball.

"Pass it to me!" He yells towards Mike and he does pass it to him. Just way too hard. 

Because it goes past his hands and right towardd his face. Smacking him hard in the nose and knocking him over. 

He hears everyone gasp as he groans on the ground.

He heard the tapping of people feet on concrete, and on grass, get close to him. 

"Holy fuck are you okay?" Despite his eyes being closed he can easily tell that's Eddie's voice.

"Damn Mike why did you throw it so hard" he hears max says. He also hears a light punch but doesn't comment on it this time.

"I didnt mean to!" 

"I'm okay" Steve says while getting up, grabbing his nose when he felt something on his lip. Blood, of course.

"That would've been a great throw if I was a little bit farther from you," he says towards Mike as Eddie helps him off the floor and leads him to the bench despite saying he was okay to keep playing.

Everyone gather arounds him as El hands him some of the napkins she keeps in her pocket.

"If this is how you all act everytime someone gets hurt it's going to get extremely annoying as we keep playing" Everyone makes weird faces, except for Robin who was grinning.

And Nancy because Robin definitely told her. 

He smiles. "You guys are going to want me to play more than one campaign, so you will all be playing more games of basketball."

While Lucas smiled, everyone else groaned.

[puck-luck]

15 of spades w/ Jack Hughes where they’re simply just roommates that like to flirt and this time it goes beyond a few flirty words and gestures

Warnings: unprotected p in v, pining Jack, soft & sweet, roommates to lovers WC: 1,406

You like to say that your life has become a New Girl situation. After a messy break-up, you moved in with your (now) friend, Jack. He’s cute and charming, way too into sports, and he’s got a great job as a bartender in downtown Newark. Your shared apartment is in North Kearny, so it’s an easy drive anywhere. The rent isn’t crazy. Plus, with all of his downtown connections, Jack can get you into any bar or club or party.

You were wary at first about living with a boy, but Jack is neat and king. He always does his dishes and his laundry, always cleans up after himself, and he often offers to make dinner for you since you work all day and his shifts are usually at night.

You like Jack. You think he’s a really good friend, but you can’t deny that you find him attractive. There’s something about his monotone voice and sarcastic smile, paired with his brown hair and his pretty blue eyes. He employs casual physical touch, delivering dinner to you with a hand on your shoulder– since he won’t dream of letting you stand and serve yourself. He’s a gentleman, after all, something he reminds you of whenever you try to help Jack with something he said he could do for you. Usually, he’ll steer you back towards the couch or towards the dining table, pushing you down and telling you to stay there “or else.” It’s an empty threat, because Jack would never do anything to actually harm you. He wouldn’t hurt a fly (he would, however, try and chase it out the front door with a rolled up magazine because the buzzing was annoying him). His behavior does nothing to drive away the butterflies in your stomach that are breaking out of their cocoons. You’re falling for Jack.

You think he’s falling for you, too. He’s a lot harder to read, but he always wants to hang out with you. He wants to watch movies with you and try and teach you how to play his favorite games, always inviting you out with him and his friends or trying to merge your friend group with his own. He’s had one success: one of your friends has been loosely “seeing” his friend Alex when their schedules align. They’re not labeling it, but they’re spending more and more time together. 

Your friends swear Jack wants to integrate the groups so that he can see you even after you move out. You only signed a year-long lease, so you’ve been trying to decide what to do. You could stay with Jack, who is very sweet and very perfect, or you could live alone. The downfall of living with Jack is that you share a bathroom with him. The other downfall is that he doesn’t work set hours and you feel… well, awkward when you try to invite someone to spend the night and Jack gets off work early. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, and you’re not committed to Jack, but you don’t want him seeing another guy in your bed. You feel a little bit like you’re betraying him, but mostly you just want to be a courteous roommate. It was his apartment first.

Things are coming to a head. It’s been weeks since you’ve gotten laid and you’re getting antsy. Jack was supposed to have a shift tonight, so you had invited one of your Hinge matches over, not expecting your roommate to be back until about 2 or 3 in the morning. That would give you plenty of time to fuck this guy and send him on his way. 

Jack comes home at 11:30. The other bartender needed to make rent tonight, so he offered to switch cuts and close for Jack. Jack made rent last weekend after working a Saturday double– you’d had a girl’s night that night, so your one good chance to fuck a man was lost– so he accepted and returned home.

You’re pissed. You texted your hookup and told him that your roommate came home early and you’d have to reschedule, knowing that he’ll probably end up ghosting you since this is the second time you’ve deflected a meetup. You could just go to his place, but you really don’t want to be trapped in another person’s apartment. You like to kick them out. You don’t like to be the one getting kicked out.

You’re sat on the couch with Jack, who’s talking about his night. He’s talking over your TV show, which is arguably the worst season of the show to be released, but it’s new and you want to pay attention. You can’t while Jack’s yapping. Your responses have gotten shorter and shorter, and your arms are crossed over your chest, and your side-eyes are becoming more and more like a glare. 

Jack finally notices.

“What’s up?” He says. “You seem mad.”

You sigh and pause your show, deciding to be frank with your roommate. You turn to him. “I need you to work a full closing shift one of these days, buddy.”

Jack makes a face. “Why?” He asks. He shakes his head slightly, squinting at you. “You don’t wanna hang out with me?”

“I need to get fucked.”

Jack’s jaw drops at the suddenness of your words.

“And I don’t want to have sex with someone else while you’re in this apartment,” you continue without pause. “So I was supposed to have a guy over while you worked tonight, but I had to cancel because you came home.”

Jack blinks at you, speechless.

“So, yeah, I’m a little mad, Jack.” You stand from the couch. “But it’s whatever. I’m going to go to bed.” You leave him in the living room.

You get all the way to your bedroom door before Jack scrambles after you.

“I could make you feel better,” he offers, his cheeks growing red with a blush. 

Now it’s your turn to be taken aback. “What?”

“I could make you feel better,” Jack repeats. “I’ll fuck you.”

You rub your eyes like you’re waking up from a dream. “What?”

Jack comes closer to you, reaching out to touch your hip. “I want to fuck you. I didn’t think we’d ever– well, that doesn’t matter. I’ll fuck you. I want to fuck you.”

That’s how you fell into bed with Jack. You’re surprised it didn’t happen sooner with the way Jack is bearing his soul to you– how pretty he thought you were the first time he saw you, how he’s wanted to touch you for so long and he can barely hold back sometimes, how much he likes doing things for you because he feels like your boyfriend. He tells you how he’ll prove to you that he’s worth more than just a fuck when you’re frustrated at him, but for now, he wants to show you what he’s been dreaming about.

His fingers bring you to one orgasm. His mouth, lapping at your first release, brings you to a second.

Then his cock. It’s straining in your palm once you’re finally able to get your hand on him, guiding him through your folds. 

Jack’s eyes are hooded and dark like he’s drunk on lust. He moves at your pace, allowing your cunt to draw him in slowly. He inches forward, savoring it, and it’s then that Jack leans down to kiss you for the first time. His lips are soft against yours, insistent in a way that portrays his desire for you. 

“Wanted to do this for so long,” Jack whispers into your mouth. “You have no idea.”

“Fuck me,” you reply, voice soft and imploring. 

Jack starts to move his hips, his head dipping so that his forehead touches yours. After a few minutes, he’s panting and making soft noises of pleasure. His eyelashes are fluttering, but it seems like he doesn’t want to close his eyes completely and lose you. He’s holding back, sounding like he’s close to coming.

You roll your hips up against him. “C’mon, Jack,” you say. “Want you to come.”

He shudders, seconds away from letting go. Your fingernails against his scalp are his undoing, making his eyes roll back and his inhibitions to disappear. He’s finally got what he wanted– his cock inside of you, filling you up. He sleeps in your bed that night.

And every night after.

You renew your lease the following week.

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess ♡ 𝓒hapter 𝓕our

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

‧ ִ ۫⠀♱ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. you encounter a few problems in your apartment. luckily, your handy next door neighbor comes to your rescue. his kindhearted actions keeps leaving you speechless.

‧ ִ ۫⠀♱ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. fluff, swearing, pet names, tension, little angst, reader has arachnophobia (a little self-indulgent), terrible military knowledge, backstories, miguel is a sweetheart

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

a quiet saturday to relax.

the gloomy weather as a cherry on top. gray, puffy clouds covering the sky. gentle breezes passing by, flowing through the trees. the forecast said it would rain later in the afternoon. oh it’s just perfect.

the perfect weather to snuggle on the couch with a blanket wrapped around you, a few snacks on the coffee table, watching your favorite movie or show, and luna laying beside you. the perfect day off.

as you head to the bathroom and turn on the light, there is a thick black spider in the corner of the ceiling. you let out a terrified scream like you’ve seen a horrifying monster. well, technically spiders are horrifying creatures to look at. not to mention your terrible case of arachnophobia. you’ve hated spiders since you were a child. while playing outside with the neighbor kids, a spider was crawling on your arm and you screamed bloody murder.

you’ve been traumatized since.

when you lived with your parents and roommates in college, someone else would kill the spider when you found one. they were understanding, although they would pick fun at you sometimes.

but now, as a young adult living on her own, there’s a fucking spider in your bathroom and the entire floor must’ve think you’re being murdered.

luna is barking and running up to you as you bolted out the bathroom. she barks when you’re scared. you try calming her down so your neighbors don’t get upset while your heart is pounding like a fucking drum. blood pressure through the roof.

you screamed so damn loud that someone is knocking on your door.

oh fuck.

the last thing you want is an upset neighbor and might dial 911 for a ridiculous misunderstanding.

approaching and opening the door with shaky hands, your next door neighbor stands in front of you with the biggest concerned look on his face.

“what happened? are you hurt?” he sounds a bit breathless. eyes filled with panic and chest heaving.

a huge wave of embarrassment hits you, making you grimace. you were right, your neighbor believes you are screaming bloody murder.

“no no, i’m fine. it’s just— oh god.” you groan, that wave of embarrassment hitting you like a fucking brick. a hand covering your face, rubbing the temples of your forehead frustratingly.

his frown deepens, growing more concern. miguel was about to repeat the two questions but you manage to speak up again.

“i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to scare you, i just—“

“what happened?” he sounds more serious, desperately wants to know the issue.

you close your eyes and inhale a deep breath, preparing to embarrass yourself in front of your next door neighbor. “there’s a big ass spider in my bathroom and i freaked out.”

you spit it out so quickly that you believe he can’t understand at first, but he did.

a big weight was lifted off his chest. the panic leaving his body. you aren’t hurt, that’s good. his expression relaxes a bit but his brows remain furrowed.

a spider scared you, seems natural.

but the scream you made tells him that you are deadly afraid of it. a scream that made his heart stop. miguel never bolted out his apartment so quickly.

“do you need me to kill it?”

you finally look up at him, taken aback by his offer. “oh- no, it’s okay. i’ll probably just spray poison.”

from a great distance, you thought.

“i’ll kill it so you’ll feel safer.” miguel insists.

did this man just make your heart skip a beat for the millionth time?

yes, he did.

you shake your head. “no, it’s okay, seriously. i don’t wanna bother you with my stupidity.”

“hermosa, leaving you alone with a spider that made you scream will bother me.”

how is this man so fucking nice?

you also don’t miss the new pet name, making your cheeks more warm than they already are.

a hinge of guilt lingers in your heart. this man has fixed enough of your problems, he can’t fix more. especially a stupid one like this one. although he did insist on you asking him for help when needed. and you know he won’t stop insisting until you give up.

with a quiet sigh, you accept. “alright…”

moving to the side, you allow him to enter your apartment once again. you show miguel to the bathroom, stopping in front of the door. you offer him the poison but miguel insists toilet paper is enough. his hand will finish the job. although, he still takes the poison as extra precautions.

miguel notices the hesitation and fear illustrated on your face. the noticeable distance you set yourself between the bathroom door. your hands folded together and pressed against your chest, a sign of fear. the sight makes him frown.

he also noticed the lack of eye contact. miguel can sense the embarrassment and it’s completely understandable. he doesn’t blame you one bit.

although, he does wish to see your eyes for a second.

as miguel heads into the bathroom to deal with the bitch ass spider, leaving the door closed so you don’t witness it, you remain outside waiting anxiously. scooping up luna in your arms and holding her for comfort. the harsh thud makes you jump a little.

miguel killed it. bless him.

you hear the toilet flushing as miguel exits the bathroom. the bitch is gone for good.

“it was hideous.” he says amusingly.

you softly chuckle. “yeah, thank you.”

“of course. you okay, now?”

“yeah now that the bitch is gone.” that earns you a soft chuckle from him. “sorry for scaring you, you probably thought i was murdered or something.”

“you did sounded terrified but i’m glad you weren’t hurt. it’s okay, don’t feel bad about it.”

“my bad case of arachnophobia explains it all.” a soft, awkward chuckle escapes your lips.

he frowns ever so slightly, lightly nodding. “it’s understandable. if there’s a spider, don’t hesitate to call me over.” miguel said sincerely.

this man keeps making your heart flutter with his sweet acts of service and kindness.

walking back to the living room, you past by your bookshelf which miguel stops in front of when he notices one of the shelves is slightly crooked.

“you need a new shelf.”

his statement makes you turn around, glancing at the crooked shelve. “oh- well, it isn’t that bad. it seems fine.” you shrug.

miguel looks at you with a disbelief expression. “fine? chica, the poor shelf is on the verge of breaking.” he gestures at the shelves. “those books will fall.”

you wave off with a hand. “it’s fine, give it three more months then it will collapse.”

to you, it really did seem like it was just slightly misplaced and can still manage.

to miguel, the shelve looks like on its last brink considering the amount of books on it.

you have a lot of books, he thinks to himself.

it’s not a bad thing. people have their hobbies. it’s just fascinating to him. miguel wonders how many books do you read in a week? or maybe even a day?

“give it three more seconds and it will collapse.” he said. “let me fix it for you.”

you simply blink at him, surprised. “no, you don’t have to. you already killed a spider for me, you don’t have to do anything else for me. plus, that isn’t a big a issue so don’t worry.”

“hermosa, do i have to remind you that you can always come to me for help?”

okay, again with the new pet name.

it makes you weak.

“ya sé, but that i don’t need help with that shelf. at least not now, it’s perfectly fine.” you said nonchalantly.

one of his thick brows quirks, a deadpan look settled on his features. “i’m two seconds away from walking back to my apartment to grab my tool box.”

this man really never backs down. there’s really no need for him to fix that dumb little shelf for you. it does look fine, to you at least. but your heart can’t deny his kindness and you know he offered to fix things for you. for free, as a reminder.

there’s no point of arguing because it’ll waste both your time. in the end, you accept his help, causing miguel to break into a little smile.

how could you say no to that smile?

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

miguel is fixing your shelf and you’re in the kitchen cooking dinner. he’s been too invested in fixing it to realize you’re making dinner for you both. that’s how you’re repaying him, he just doesn’t know it yet.

“your shelf is fixed.”

pausing the cooking, you quickly walk over and see the now fixed shelf. not that crooked anymore.

“thank you.” you flash him a smile, he hums in return.

you return to the kitchen, miguel following you curiously after putting away the tools in the box, placing it on the marble counter.

“¿qué estas haciendo?” miguel asks softly beside you, peeking at what you’re cooking.

“teriyaki chicken, one of my favorites.”

“qué rico.” the smell of the sauce invades his senses, causing his stomach to rumble a little.

you feel him stepping away, turning around to see miguel about to put on his shoes.

“adondé vas?”

“home.”

“you’re not leaving without food.”

he quirks a brow amusingly before lightly shaking his head. “i appreciate it, chica but i’m okay, gracias.”

“you helped me today so i’m repaying you with food.” you place your hands on your hips, standing in sassy posture. “i ain’t taking no for an answer.” you smirk.

the hint of authority in your tone intrigues him. his lips match yours. he got a hint of your sass at the bar with all your friends that night. to see your true self, sassy and interesting sense of humor yet caring. just so authentic with some sass, miguel was intrigued.

that’s why he couldn’t stop admiring you that night.

he was given the privilege to see the other side of you, the true side. you aren’t just his neighbor.

“pues… i can’t say no to that smell.” he smirks, eliciting a soft laugh from you.

after serving yourselves, you offer to do it for him since he’s a guest but miguel kindly insists he’ll do it himself and to not worry, you sit at your little dining table across from each other.

“wow… that was the best teriyaki chicken i’ve ever had.” miguel gently wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“oh you’re being too nice now.” you playfully roll your eyes, unable to hide your smile.

“en serio.” he smiles. “it was really delicious. it’s different from other ones i’ve had, it was incredible.”

you shake your head, smiling. “well, kudos to my mom. she makes it the best.”

“she’d be very proud.”

the comment warms your heart.

“reading is your hobby, huh?” he asks.

you nod. “since i was a kid. it relaxes my mind, especially after a long ass day at work.”

“favorite genre?”

“murder mystery, or sci-fi.”

“i noticed the amount.” he gestures at the bookshelf.

“can’t help it, they’re that good.” you chuckle.

miguel chuckles as well. “i don’t doubt it.”

“is building things your hobby?” resting your elbow on the table, you place your chin in your palm.

“robotics club, remember?” a smirk on his face. “still do, when i’m not away.”

“you said you served 9 years, verdad?”

“sí and still counting.”

“what made you decide to sign up, if you don’t mind me asking?”

miguel goes silent for a few seconds. you notice how his eyes immediately tear away from yours. the way his shoulders tensed for a moment.

oh fuck, was that too personal?

you’re about to apologize but he finally speaks.

“my brother wanted to, i signed up with him.” miguel reveals. “he always wanted to join the military since we were kids. he wanted to be a soldier, like the bucket o’ soldiers from toy story. i couldn’t let him out of my sight so signed up with him.”

your heart warms at the adorable story. “brothers stick together, huh? that’s cute.”

the corners of his lips twitch ever so slightly, not a complete smile like before. “este güey, pinche loco. couldn’t leave him alone for 5 seconds without him getting his ass busted.”

“the glories of having younger siblings.” you chuckle.

miguel nods. “you too?”

“no, i’m actually the youngest.” you laugh softly. “i wasn’t getting my ass busted, though.”

that elicits a chuckle from him. “how many?”

“two, a brother and sister. my sister is the oldest.”

as you tell him stories about you and your siblings, you realize miguel never mentioned his brother’s name. you’re curious to know.

“oh by the way, you never told me your brother’s name.”

you notice his shoulder tense again, seems hesitant to answer your question. it worries you a little. each time you mention his brother, he tenses.

“gabriel.” he reveals.

a nice name.

“it seems like your mom really liked the ‘el’ part.” you joke, softy chuckling.

silence follows after, making you look at him to see the solemn look on his face. his gaze on the empty plate in front of him instead your own.

fuck, you might’ve pushed it too far.

what’s going on with you tonight?

“i’m sorry, that was rude of me to say—“

“don’t be, please.” miguel quickly reassured you. “it’s true, she did like the ‘el’ part. she did like matching things with each other, even with her own kids.” he offers a kind, small smile. his gaze back on yours.

his smile makes you feel a little better. you offer one of your own, sharing gentle smiles.

glancing at the two empty plates, you reach to collect his plate but miguel grabs it and yours, standing up from his seat.

“wait, i got it—“

“don’t worry, chica. i can take them for you.”

“you’re a guest, you shouldn’t have to.” you try to take the dirty plates from him but miguel slowly moves them out from your reach.

“you cooked for me, i should wash them.” he insists in a gentle manner.

“es mi casa, i’m the one who should wash them.”

“at least let me help you.” miguel pleads.

you really insist that he shouldn’t since he’s a guest but you know arguing over a topic that doesn’t need to be argued about is unnecessary.

you accept his help but only to pass the dishes, you still insist on washing them. miguel simply laughs at your stubbornness but agrees, saying as long as he gets to help you. plus, you can’t deny that smile.

once the dishes are done, it’s time for miguel to return to his home considering it’s dark outside.

“thanks for your help today.”

“siempre. your dinner was delicious, gracias.”

“be expecting that more often.” you smirk.

“you don’t have to, chica.”

“i want to, it’s my gratitude.”

miguel can’t help but chuckle, appreciating your kindness. luna slowly approaches him, her tail wagging as she sniffs at his feet.

“she likes you.” you glance down at her with a smile.

“i’m glad she approves.” he jokes.

you say goodnight each other, thanking miguel one last time before he leaves. you close the door once you see him enter his place. scooping luna in your arms and shutting off everything in the kitchen, you head to your room for the night.

just as you past by, you stop in front of the bookshelf. you stare at the newly built shelf miguel did for you today. the sight and memory makes the corner of your lips curl up into a smile.

a memory you won’t forget.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @marshhbs @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @watertribeissuperior @lovehadlovelost @auiciqa @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @miguelsfavwife @asterrrrose @glossygreene @aefin @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @jadeloverxd @sirendyes

( 𝓝𝐎𝐓𝐄 : special shout-out to @aphinthestars for the bookshelf idea! thank you for helping! dedicating this chapter to you! )

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[atimeofyourlife]

A family Thanksgiving

This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents

The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.

"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.

"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.

"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.

"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."

Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.

When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."

"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.

"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"

"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.

"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."

"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.

"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.

Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.

"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.

"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.

"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.

After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.

"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.

"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.

"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.

"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."

"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.

"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."

"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"

"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."

"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.

"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.

"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.

"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.

"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.

"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."

Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.

"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."

"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.

"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."

"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.

"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."

Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.

Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.

"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.

"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.

Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.

"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."

Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.

"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."

"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."

"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.

"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"

"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."

"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"

"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."

"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."

"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.

"But, mother-" His father started.

"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."

"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."

"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."

"Mother,"

"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."

Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.

"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.

"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.

"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."

"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."

"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."

"Grandma." Steve protested.

"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.

Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.

"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"

"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."

"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"

"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."

"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."

"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.

[w2soneshots]

Could I do a Chrismd request? Maybe where they meet either jogging one day or their indoor climbing club and they eventually get together.

Thanks :)

Coffee? -Chrismd

words: 0.8k+

warnings: none.

summary: you and Chris pass each other every week on your runs, one day he decides to finally ask you out.

notes: hello lovely💞 This is my first ChrisMD fic, wooo! I hope you enjoy and thank you for being patient with me, I’m trying desperately to find the motivation to write!!🏃‍♀️‍➡️✨

I woke up early this morning for my usual Saturday morning run in London. It was not particularly warm but thankfully there wasn't any rain or wind and once I get my body moving I always warm up anyway so I picked out an outfit accordingly.

I shivered slightly as I stepped out of the glass doors of my apartment building before plugging in my earphones and getting started. I always love starting my Saturday's this way since it helps to clear my head, plus I usually see the cute boy that lives in the apartment building two streets away from mine.

I know that because I've seen him leave multiple times in the last few months. I've been tempted to ask for his number but I always chicken out. Though every once and awhile I catch him looking my way when we pass by each other.

After a good fifteen minutes of running/jogging around London I see him coming towards me. My heart rate spikes. I put on a friendly smile and he returned it. I was slightly disappointed that he was still yet to say anything so I decided to take matters into my own hands, hopefully he doesn't have a girlfriend.

I stopped and turned around. He's already walking towards me. "Oh my god. Oh my god." I thought, mind racing. I quickly remove my earphones. "Hi, uhm... I'm Chris," he says. "y/n," I replied.

It was silent for a moment before he spoke up. "I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to get a coffee after your run, if you're free?" I nodded softly. "I'd like that. Meet you outside waterlow park in an hour?" "Yeah, great. See you then... y/n." He waved softly before turning around and jogging off. I let out a light, content sigh. Finally.

I swiftly finished my run and headed back to my apartment to clean up. I took a quick shower, did my hair then put on a casual outfit. By the time I was done it was almost time for us to meet.

I'd chosen the park that was located between our apartments so it was only a short walk. As I approached I saw that Chris was already stood waiting, which I was glad about.

"Hey," he said, with a cute smile spread across his lips. "Hi, where did you wanna go?" I asked. "Is he a starbucks or a cosy little café kinda guy?" I wondered. "I always go to this café ten minutes from here," he said. That answered my question. "Great, lead the way."

We made small talk as we walked. He asked how long I'd been running for and we briefly discussed the fact we'd seen each other so many times but never shared more than a friendly smile.

When we reached the café, which was tucked right on the corner of the street, we headed inside and both ordered a coffee. I was surprised I hadn't ever realised it was there but I was glad he'd shown me it since it was actually really cute.

We sat down opposite each other on one of the small tables at the front of the shop next to the window. "So... favourite colour?" He asked jokingly. I breathed out a chuckle. "I hate that question." I was hoping I wouldn't have to hear it for a while, since I was really starting to like Chris.

It took just a few weeks before we were quite comfortable with each other. We would regularly do our runs together since they fell around the same time but tonight I'm going round to his apartment for the first time to order a take out and watch a movie.

I put on some comfortable clothes, threw my hair up, grabbed a bottle of wine that I'd bought especially and walked the five minutes to his place.

I rang the doorbell and he answered soon after. I smiled softly at him as he welcomed me inside. "Wow, this is really nice," I complemented as I stepped in. His apartment was clean and quite cosy, kind of like the coffee shop.

We both sat down after he grabbed some glasses and poured us both some wine. I got comfy as he scrolled through netflix. This was exactly the kind of dates I enjoyed.

About an hour and a half into the movie (which ended up being Harry Potter) and after the takeaway had arrived and been eaten we sat close to each other, thighs touching and his arm around my shoulder. I could barely focus.

Though nothing else happened until it was time for me to leave, as it was now late and pitch black outside. I stood by the door, ready to go when Chris stopped me.

"Uh- before you go..." he began. I was hoping that he was doing what I thought he was doing. He leaned closer, his hand moving down to my hoodie covered waist. It was silent for a few moments longer before I closed the gap, connecting our lips for the first time.

When we both pulled away we shared a content smile. "Thank you for tonight, I'll see you soon?" I broke the silence. "Yeah, yeah. I'll text you." I nodded softly then waved slightly as I walked out of the door.

I was very excited to see him again and had a really good feeling about where this was going.

[razangy]

I saw Trolls Band Together last Saturday, October 21st and it was beautiful, easily my favorite Trolls movie.

a film full of feeling, you empathize with all its characters, Branch's brothers are great and their relationship is so ruined as they try to save Floyd that it affects Branch very personally.

The same happens with Viva and Poppy, although I am not very convinced of Viva's origin story and since it connects with Trolls 1, I must say that she is an excellent character, full of energy but at the same time scared of the outside world.

Velvet and Venner are great villains, the best antagonists Trolls has ever had, they are selfish and evil but their music is extraordinary, you really enjoy watching their scenes and listening to them sing.

The cherry on the cake: Broppy!! 🩷🩵

Broppy in this movie was on another level, full of emotional scenes, a level of support and understanding between the two, the most mature that has been seen within Trolls.

The characters grow together and you feel the deep love they have for each other.

Poppy's two most important scenes are with Branch, where she not only shows how much she improved as a character, but as a girlfriend. From her She went from not listening to anyone, to trying to get Branch to open up his feelings with her, to be really honest with her.

and she also made him understand that she would never leave him, no matter what happened.

It is time to recognize that Broppy is one of the most developed couples within DreamWorks, on par with couples like Hiccup and Astrid or Shrek and Fiona.

and that is my humble review, I had the opportunity to see the film in a preview in Argentina.

Totally recommendable movie.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐛 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝. 

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘, 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡, 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝. 𝐍𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃.

𝐀/𝐍_𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐛 𝐛𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐳. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨, 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚) (𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢.𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤)

♪ ♫ 𝙋𝙀𝘿𝙍𝙊 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 (𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩)

「 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲: 𝐑𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 」  𝐄xtra 01

(𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚)

You were gonna miss the summer. The heavy sun rays, the handmade ice cream Mrs. Montgomery made. Maria was not yelling for wasting hot water because the summer in Jackson was so extreme that the cold water turned a little warm. 

But you were overreacting because it was September, and summer was at its peak in the town. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, of course. 

You look at the street quietly. It’s Thursday, men are working, and women too. But since you’re entering the last trimester of pregnancy, your teaching shifts are becoming shorter . 

You are seated in a rocking chair with a fan in your hand, trying to soothe the heat. A cold glass of lemonade in your other hand. 

Everything was fine. After having one of the worst fights with Joel a little after arriving in Jackson, you discovered you were pregnant. Those days were hard, but soon the rainbow came. And you married the bravest man in town. 

Joel still received bad looks for marrying and knocking up a young woman like you. He couldn’t care less, always proudly putting his hand around your waist or shoulder when you were out. Nobody knew how much you both went through.

The weekends were fantastic. Friday was your best chance to get a messy night with your husband after Ellie left to watch some movies. Saturdays were for decorating the nursery room for the baby. 

Since nobody knew what gender would be, the room would be beige with salmon and olive green sparks. 

And Sundays, we’re for church visits and visiting Tommy, Maria, and their baby. 

However, this weekend, everything would go differently if Joel joined your plan.

“Hey, Ellie. How was school today, baby?” She shrugged calmly. You knew it was hard for her. She wasn’t used to having an ordinary life, and now…

“Good. I got a B on my homework. And I talked with some kids. But…” You nodded, opening your arms and inviting her to have a warm hug. Her head collapsed in your chest, and one of her hands landed on your swollen belly. 

“I know. I know it’s hard. But it doesn’t matter; neither Joel nor I pressured you to have friends or be good at school. Time to time…” she wasn’t crying, but sure, she was emotional. “We are proud of you. Plus, Joel’s birthday is on Saturday. I need to get some fresh strawberries. Would you like to help me with the cake?” 

“Hell yeah. But…I thought Joel was against flour and-“ you giggle. Happy to see Ellie smiling again.

“He is. But we won’t use flour. Only yogurt and eggs. It’ll be a healthy cake….”

“So the strawberries….” you try to bring up the issue, but Ellie is there to help you. You were feeling great to be seven months pregnant. You could sleep very well, sex was amazing in every position, and summer blessed you with elevated temperatures that only required you to wear sundresses. 

“It’s only half an hour away from here. Free from infection, Maria said it was safe when Tommy took her some weeks ago” Ellie nodded, entering the house behind you. The girl wasn’t sure of the idea. 

“But you shouldn’t go. Maybe Joel could go with Tommy…” you sighed. Everyone wanted to protect you, especially Joel. You were thankful to have a caring family again. But this was a one-time opportunity. You didn’t know if you would be alive for the next season of strawberries for Joel’s birthday. You didn’t know if the place would be full of infected by next year. It was a single opportunity to do something that would stay in your memories forever and Joel’s too.

“I know everyone’s gonna freak out when they hear about this. But I really want to do this. Remember that feeling of seeing the giraffe in Salt Lake?” The girl nodded. Of course, she remembered. She felt like a girl her age. It was one of those things that were shockingly beautiful now but before the outbreak was typical. 

“That’s the feeling I have about this. And I would take you too. But Maria would definitely kill me,” Ellie giggled but seized after seeing your face grow in discontent. 

“What?” She asked you. Inside the house, in the kitchen, it was nice because it was cold. But upstairs was hell. And the living room was hot but humid. Which wasn’t helping with your pain.

“I think the baby kicked and moved at the same time,” you managed to explain. Ellie was amused by your pregnancy. She found the process of growing a little human inside you extraordinary and disgusting. Initially, she was afraid that you or Joel would get rid of her after having a kid of your own. But now she was pretty sure not because she always felt welcome and part of the family. 

“Maybe it’s turning upside down….” you nodded, smiling once the pain was gone. “See? It’s like an alien growing inside like you said.”

“If that kid comes up looking like the exact copy of Joel, I’ll be a pain in the ass for that old man,” you laugh. Ellie didn't cause much trouble in Jackson, she was a good kid, but you knew she had a violent nature inside her. However, since you arrived in Jackson six months ago, the only trouble she caused was inside the house. For example, leaving the lights on, the floor wet, making Joel almost slip and break his back, etc.  

“You are making my man age three times faster than he should, Ellie” The girl winked and opened the kitchen door, heading towards the fridge to grab a cold glass of water. 

“Don’t say that. It reminds the age gap between you two” Rolling your eyes, you start waving the fan in your hand to soothe the heat. 

“A guy my age would never ever protect me for so long. A guy my age would have killed me after I got bit. A guy my age would have stopped to look after me when David and his cult took us. And a guy my age would have abandoned the baby and me.” Ellie sighed, tilting her head.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you nod, shaking your head. Trying to tell her that it was fine.

“It’s okay. We know it isn’t ideal. But it works, and it's the least of my worries today” She got closer to give you another hug, which you accepted. 

After arriving in Jackson, Ellie started to show significant affection to you. Which was weird at the beginning, but now it felt normal. 

—

 “What are you doing?” You ask with a laugh when you see Joel painting a wall of the backyard in black paint. After eating dinner with Ellie, she went to do homework, and you decided to take a long nap. When you woke up, it was dark. The dishes were clean, so Joel must’ve had dinner, and when you smelled the fresh paint, you directly went out. 

“Oh, hey…” he greeted, offering a sweet smile. You smiled, loving how often he was smiling now. He also looked physically better, less dark bags under his eyes, better-looking skin, and a friendly mood. “Does it smell a lot inside?”

“No, just at the kitchen entrance,” he nodded. Some seconds later, he had finished the whole wall. Well, just the lower half. Now you were confused looking at the border with two different colors. Joel noticed your confusion and stood up to get close to you.

“It's chalkboard paint. Tommy found it today at the stables. I thought it would be good for… the kid to have a place to draw” Your eyes water immediately, and you throw yourself at him to hug him. He receives your warm body and feels how dainty it’s the moment for you. 

“Oh, Joel, you are going to be such a good father again”

Again, it replayed in his head. He was going to have another kid. In his fifties, away from Texas, without Sarah. He was scared, but everything was fine. Better than it was in the winter. 

“You think I can do it?” He asks, letting out his insecurities. He grasps your hair, pushing your right cheek against his chest. 

“I think you’ve already done it, love” He knows what you mean. A year of taking care of Ellie. A year of many deaths of people both of you knew. How fast things changed.

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” he said in disbelief. He wanted to stay the whole night holding you, trying to get inside his head that he had a house, a work, an adopted kid, and an unborn one. That you were his wife, telling him he would be an amazing father.

“I was thinking… Maybe tomorrow we could go and pick some strawberries outside. Maria was telling me about this field. She’s making Tommy and other men go pick up for the food storage,” he flinched away from you. And started to say no multiple times.

“Uhm…No?. You’re pregnant, y/n. And if Tommy and the others take them, Why should we go?” You sigh. Crossing your arms, resting them above your belly.

“It’s like half an hour away from here, Joel. It’s safe. It would be like a simple walk. You heard the doctor. She said I need to go on walks” The man started picking up the can of paint. 

“I said no, y/n. We can walk inside the town, and I can make Tommy bring you a basket of strawberries next week”

He was right, but you got irritated easier than ever. He could see your eyes get teary again, your cheeks red from anger, and you groan, showing how annoyed you were. 

“Baby…” he called as he watched you sprint inside the house. He sighed, putting his hands on his hips. 

You took a shower without Joel, brushed your teeth with angry tears falling, and tucked inside the bed, grabbing your diary to write about the past days.

When you were almost finished writing how grumpy and close-minded Joel was, he went out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. 

You ignore him as you notice that he’s watching you. He lets out a little sigh and then proceeds to seat on the edge of the bed.

“We can go to the strawberry fields in the morning. But it has to be fast. We can’t stay past midday.” You stop writing to smile at him. 

“Really?” He nodded, rolling his eyes. “ yeah. I spoke with Tommy, and he said it is very safe.”

“Thank you, thank you. Oh, I love you….” you crawl to hug him from behind, kissing his cheeks. 

“Well, now spread those legs because that trip it ain’t gonna be free” You start laughing very hard after listening to him. He giggles too, but you obey him. And the air shifts, heating. 

“Just for my old man” He rolled his eyes again. And began to kiss you deeply.

As you place your arms around his shoulders, he leans to end up topping you. 

You love the feeling of his lips abusing yours, his hands caressing your belly. It’s perfect, just as the day ended.

—

In the morning, you leave a note for Ellie. You left some boiled eggs and fruit for her; hopefully, you would be home by midday. 

You take a backpack with some sandwiches for breakfast and your medical kit. Knives and a gun in case of anything. 

You walk to the stable where Joel is waiting for you. The cramps you felt the day before were still there. You kept saying it was the baby moving around your womb but deep down, you felt a bad omen about it.

You look at your handsome husband, and once he spots you, he places his thumb and index finger above the bridge of his nose.

“I’m not taking you if you’re wearing a skirt” You ignore him, walking past him to the little exit. You wouldn’t make an exit through the principal gate. 

“Joel, I traveled a great distance throughout the country in a hospital gown and bare feet. Don’t tell me to go and get changed.”

“What if you get a scratch, or if we need to climb somewhere?” Exasperated, you stop walking to turn back.

“Gosh, Joel, it’s just a walk near the town. No mountains or hiking. It’s a firm trail” He helps you open the door, praying in silence that everything goes well.

Apparently, you were right. You followed Tommy's map, leading the way as Joel kept his rifle in position. The trail was easy, and Joel saw the fields in the blink of an eye. 

“This is amazing,” you whispered, in a trance, looking at the beauty nature gave you and your partner. Joel had a smile when he looked at you. And he regretted saying no to you at the beginning. You looked adorable in a long skirt and a white tee that looked a little like a crop top with your belly in the middle. At that moment, he wished he could have taken a picture of you. At least he would keep the image in his memories forever. 

“ We should have breakfast here” he opted, to which you agreed. Both took a seat on a giant rock and you took both sandwiches out of your backpack. 

“You shouldn’t be eating spicy stuff” Joel said after feeling the first taste of spicy boiled eggs. 

“I know, but it’s one of the biggest cravings I’m having right now” he chuckled, looking at how you devoured the sandwich. 

“You would have loved Indian food then. There was something called Tandoori chicken that I loved to have on takeout with Tommy back in Texas. Sarah hated the smell of yogurt and spices, but Tommy always asked for the spiciest option” You had noticed that Joel was more open about his past now. You liked it, and you enjoyed hearing about his younger years.

“And Mexican food. I was a friend of an old lady that owned a restaurant. She loved feeding me when I was a teenager and nobody could take care of Sarah” You smile fondly. 

“I would love to try other types of food, but I’m thankful for this. However… How was she as a baby?” Joel was surprised by your question. He knew you avoided asking about his daughter because of him. But he was ready to share more. 

“The fussiest baby. Always demanding her formula on time. She had the brightest chocolate eyes and a dazzling curls crowning her head.” The way he speaks with so much love, it melts your heart. 

“And she loved to take baths. She wouldn’t stop giggling and splashing around everywhere” He looks at your face, noticing how your smile has changed. Soon he realized he might have sounded like he had high expectations for the new baby. He knew nothing would be the same. He already loved you and the new baby and knew that meant new memories.

“Our baby will bring new memories. And this time, I’ll have you all the way….” He kisses your forehead, and you nod, smiling.

“I just pray it comes healthy. Now I realize the first months I was feeding him spoiled food” Both of you laugh as you finish the sandwiches with orange juice. 

“The doctor said everything was fine. Even Freya said you looked fine” You roll your eyes at the mention of Freya. The woman who flirted with Joel ruined your pregnancy's secret months ago. “Shut up. Don’t ruin our morning with Freya.”

“Yeah, right. Sorry, baby,” he accepted, giggling. You frowned a little after feeling an unexpected cramp. Joel quickly places his hand on your bump, worried.

“What are you feeling?” You shake your head. Placing a hand in the air, trying to comfort him.

“Nothing, just a cramp” When you stood up, you felt a heavier pressure on your lower belly. But you pretended it was nothing. 

“Are you sure we should keep going?” You nodded at your husband’s question. 

“Yeah. It’s fine. C’mon,” he was unsure. But followed you after you started to keep going. 

Ten minutes later, the cramps increased. But you finally were in the strawberry fields. You start cutting strawberries and flowers to place them inside the basket you brought.

“What if the fruit is infected?” You roll your eyes, taking out a transparent bottle with a white liquid. “I made this natural wash with vinegar and baking soda. If it’s infected, the strawberry will start erupting bubbles.”

“Smart girl…” you wink cheekily, proceeding to lean further. The strawberries were clean so far.

You don’t know what happened. It just felt like something was being pulled from your insides. And when Joel turned to see you, you had dropped the knife and basket, landing on your knees.

“What happened?’ He yelled worriedly, running to sit behind you. 

“I don’t-, ouch. Joel! This hurts…” his heart pounded faster. He helped you to sit correctly. Unconsciously, you leaned on your elbows and opened your legs a little.

Joel gasped, worried about his assumption. Your legs were exposed, and the hem of your skirt was pooled around your pelvis and belly. Some strawberries were mashed on your legs from the pressure of your fall.

“Breathe, y/n. It might be some cramps, that’s all,” you nod. But a minute later, you are sweating and yelling in pain.

Frustrated to see you in pain, he cleaned your forehead and helped you to accommodate. 

He slipped his hand under your dress and made contact with your folds being widely swollen. He slipped his fingers inside you and opened his eyes once he felt something obstructing the way. 

It was the baby, coming very fast. He pulled down your underwear making you hold his hand in shock.

“Fucking hell. This can’t be happening right now” You opened your eyes, confused at him. “Joel, what?

“You are birthing, y/n” Your eyes grew wetter, and you started shaking your head in denial.

“No, no. I have two months left. Our baby is coming in November,” Joel sighed. He couldn’t understand why it was happening so fast. He thought your delivery would be slower. But it seemed to be happening super fast.

“I think the baby has other plans, my love. And we can’t go back like this,” he accepted, trying to be as calm as possible. He had to help you, not stress you out.

“No. I’m not having my baby here. Help me to get up. Let’s go.” 

“I can feel the head already. There’s no time, and you can’t retain it. It’s dangerous.” You cry in pain. You just sob for a few minutes. Joel grabs your hands for you to squeeze him as much as you want. But you know there is no other option, you are going to be brave for Joel and the baby.

“Okay. I-goddammit. Hold my hands, Joel. I think I’m gonna start pushing” He nods, and you can see the nervousness on his face. You soothe him with a weak smile. 

“It’s okay. We’re safe at least. You can’t scream so much but try to relax, love” he lets you know. You nod, frowning as the pressure increases. You can feel the baby sliding through your cervix and ripping your insides. 

“I’m gonna see how it’s going. Okay?” You nod, yelling. He lets go of one of your hands to push your skirt a little more. 

He sighed, shocked to see half of the baby’s head out. He wasn’t present at Sarah's delivery. He had to wait outside, and now, seeing the graphic scene didn’t scare him, but it was intense for sure.

“The head is almost completely out. You’re doing amazing, baby,” you cry harder. Joel feels useless and realizes a tiny human will be there in minutes. 

Five minutes later, you are shaking and screaming nonstop. Joel holds both of your hands again.

“Just a little more, mama. Breathe…” You gasp for air one last time before pushing as hard as possible. Both of you look at each other when the cries of the baby begin. 

Joel drops your hands to catch the little human, and you have the baby in your chest in the blink of an eye. 

“Oh God…” you sob happily as you kiss the baby’s head. Crying, you start counting the fingers on the hands and toes. 

“Five fingers on both hands and toes,” you say with a giant smile” Then, you finally notice it. “Joel, it’s a girl.”

Joel Miller instantly tears. 

“A girl…” he whispers, looking at the little squirming crybaby in your arms. She’s incredibly tiny. Yet, she didn’t look like a seven-month-baby.

“I don’t think she was seven months…” you read his mind. He shakes his head, the baby has dark brown hair, she has matted hair and she’s pale as every newborn is. “Me neither. I think she was just small.”

“She’s perfect,” he managed to say after some seconds of silence, wiping his tears away.

“Cut the cord, please,” you plead to him. He nods, grabs a clean knife from his backpack, and proceeds to cut it. Your legs, shirt, and skirt are drenched in blood and fluids. But you can’t stop crying with happiness. 

“I can’t fucking believe this…” he says, leaning to kiss your lips. The baby has stopped crying. She’s trying to adjust to the light and yawning. 

“We need to go back. She needs to be checked, and I need to push the placenta. It’s already past two” He knows you’re right. But he doesn’t want to make you walk. He wants you to rest. He realized you pushed the baby in less than forty minutes, and it felt like a second.

“You just pushed a baby. I think you should rest” You shake your head, already reeling and anxious because the baby needs to be urgently checked.

“You know we can’t stay. Could you grab her?” He nods, but he’s terrified to hold her own daughter. You hand her, but he’s taking his jacket off. He wrapped her with the jacket and that’s when it hit him.

He once had a daughter and now he had another daughter. You were a mother. He was a father. Exactly a year after he rejected your suggestion of having a family with him. 

He smiles at the baby, finally surrendering and falling in love with her. 

He doesn’t want to let her go, like never. 

“Oh, y/n. Stop it, I’ll help you and then you stand up” he hurries to stop you from trying to stand up by yourself. With his free arm, he acts as a support for you. You sigh when you’re on your feet, knowing it will be a long way home.

“You’re so brave and-. God, I love you,” he admits, making you smile at his cuteness. You love the sight of him holding the baby. You are going to get used to it.

“I love you too, so much” He kisses your forehead. “Now, let’s fucking go home.”

Like you had come from the war with Joel, the thirty minutes walk became an hour and a half. By 4:00pm, you were in Jackson. The stables are empty, and once you make it outside, just by casualty, Maria is there talking with Rosalie and Rae. The couple who became your only friends. 

Rae spots you and gasps in shock. The group turns around, and once they see you covered in blood and Joel holding a bundle in a jacket, they run toward you two. And they see the damn strawberries too.

“Holy shit. What the fuck happened? Rosalie says as she brings a wheelchair,” the woman nods, running. 

“I gave birth,” you announce. Some people gather near you and Joel. You know they’re gonna be talking about your baby for days.

“I can’t believe it,” Maria says in disbelief. Getting closer, Joel leans and uncovers the baby’s face. Maria smiles widely.

“She’s beautiful. Congratulations…” Joel nods, and you thank to see Rosalie with Tommy bringing a wheelchair.

“Well damn. Let me see me….” Tommy starts but ends because he doesn’t know the gender.

“Niece, Tommy. She’s a girl,” a couple of brothers hug, and you feel happy to see them like that. 

“Yes, she's a Miller. That hair comes from our mom” You feel like you’re gonna tear again.

“I think we can keep talking in the clinic,” Rosalie said, hugging and congratulating you.

“Someone, please call Ellie,” you say to the group. They nod, and you feel sleepy as Rae pushes you into the wheelchair.

—

You wake up to the sound of laughter. When you open your eyes. Everyone is there, in your little room inside the clinic. 

“Look, baby. Mommy is awake” You smile at Rosalie, holding her. Everyone turns to see you finally awake. 

“We’ll give you two some privacy. But not so much. We are outside,” Tommy lets you know. And once they leave, Joel helps you with your gown.

You place the baby in your chest, and without notice, she latches on your left nipple. It hurts a little, and you wonder how she could bite and make you feel like your nipple was getting ripped off when she didn’t had teeth.

“Poor baby, you must've been starving,” you coo at her. Joel takes a seat beside you, looking in adoration at the tiny girl.

“We haven’t named her…” he says. You won’t last too much without answering. You though about for months, avoiding to tell Joel because you were afraid of his reaction. But it’s time now…

“Joel, I know this is a whole new chapter for you. I know this means too many things to you. However… I was thinking of a name that could rhyme with… her” Joel looks at you curiously. So you continue.

“What do you think of Cerise?” Joel nods instantly. He kissed you again, and you felt relief after his reaction.

“Sounds good. Cerise Miller, right?” The man keeps nodding. 

You finally pay full attention to your baby. She’s wearing a pink onesie. Although it's hot, she has long sleeves and small gloves that prevent her from scratching her face. Her skin tone starts looking more like Joel’s, and you love it. Cerise stops eating and you start burping her.

“Thank you for everything you have done for me. I will always owe you, y/n” You cup his cheek in awe. Brushing your thumb against his patchy beard, he closes his eyes.

“I owe you a lot too. We will pay each other for the rest of our lives” Before anyone can say anything else, the door slowly opens, revealing Ellie entering.

“Hey, bug,” you greet her. She looks shocked.

“Holy shit. You gave birth in the wild? Damn, y/n, God was afraid of making you immortal, right?” Joel and you start laughing. She comes closer, and once baby Cerise burps, you spin her to show her to Ellie. 

“Oh, she’s so cute. But there’s no way she’s a seven-month baby” Joel shakes her head.

“She isn’t. The doctor said she’s spent nine months inside” Ellie shrugs at Joel’s words. You also look at him, probably he discovered it while you were sleeping.

“Guess she’s just a tiny baby,” you explain, smiling. Looking at Ellie’s curiosity, you hand the baby to her.

“Want to hold her?” Ellie nods nervously. “Help me, Joel”

The man rolls his eyes and makes the girl take a seat before joining her. You look at them, and it melts your heart.

“Yeah, you got it” You smile at Ellie, and she replies with another smile. She looks good with the baby in her arms.

“What’s her name?” Joel keeps rubbing the tiny hairs of the girl’s delicate skull.

“Cerise,” Joel lets her know. Ellie nodded, smiling at the baby and how she was soundly asleep.

“It’s pretty.” There’s nothing else to be said. The four of you just stay there, like a family.

—-

You must sleep in the living room that first night because you couldn’t go upstairs. Ellie and Joel make you feel comfortable, they put Cerise’s bassinet beside you, and Joel holds you tightly the whole night. Cerise only woke up two times. And she didn't cry so much. 

You woke up at 10:00 am again. Cerise was sleeping. You carefully took a shower and the used the bandages Maria handed you. It was an Asian method that she used, and she felt like herself again in the third month post-baby. After a little routine of making yourself presentable, you quietly started baking Joel’s cake. You saved a little basket after Cerise decided to introduce herself to the world. You had invited everyone to celebrate, only that it was a surprise for Joel. 

It was his birthday.

When the cake is in the oven, Cerise starts moving. Joel starts waking up too, but you send him to sleep again,

“It’s okay, handsome. Go back to sleep,” he protests. “But Cerise-“

“She’s fine. Please go back to sleep” he spent a significant part of the night storing your milk. Apparently, eating oats for months increased your supplies. 

He nods, going back to sleep, so you sigh, thankful. Cerise is awake, fussy, and demanding attention.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” you fed her quietly. After noticing she was sweating too much, you changed her into a strap onesie of butterflies with adorable matching socks and gloves. Ellie enters the kitchen.

“Smells like cake… wait. You made the cake without me?” You nod. “Sorry, I can’t go upstairs. And if I called you, Joel would be here already”

“Fine. Just because you brought Cerise to the world yesterday,” you giggle.

“But perhaps you could help me decorate it,” Ellie nods excitedly.

—

Joel enters the kitchen and is greeted by a surprising sight. You and Ellie look like you were manipulating a crime scene, and Joel discovered it. But there was a medium cake on the table, besides Cerise and her Moses.

“What is going on?” He asked.

“Happy birthday, old man,” Ellie said happily. Joel inspected the cake.

Oh yeah, today was his birthday. And it was the first birthday he had celebrated since the outbreak. 

“Happy birthday, Joel,” you hugged him tightly. He stood quiet but wrapped his arms around you, feeling your stomach and back bandaged. 

“It’s been twenty-one years since I celebrated it….” You knew. Even Ellie did. 

“We know, love. You deserve this….” you say, brushing his arms.

“Plus, it's a flourless cake. And Cerise has another present for you”  Joel looks suspiciously at Ellie but smiles kindly.

“My smart and beautiful wife…” he whispered in your ear. Making you blush. 

Ellie brought a little brown box, and you took Cerise out of her moses to pretend she was handing Joel’s gift.

“Oh god,” he said, laughing, looking at his baby in an adorable onesie and pretending to hold the box. 

“You might want to take a seat” He frowned, confused, but followed your suggestion.

He opened the box, and after encountering a layer of old newspapers, there was a little frame in the shape of two circles.

A picture of baby Sarah was placed on the left side, and on the right side, a recent photo of Cerise was there. 

“How?-“ Joel was shocked to see a picture of Sarah. He couldn’t save anything that day.

“Tommy. He had one in his wallet that day….” Joel crashed his head on your chest, hugging you again. “Ellie suggested the idea, and Tommy helped us” Ellie was holding Cerise when she got closer to give Joel some comforting pats on the back. 

He surprised her by also hugging her and Cerise on the way.

“Thank you…” Ellie felt blissed by that moment. 

But everyone found the moment perfect. Especially Joel, who noticed the significant presence of the girls he had in his arms. 

“Oh, my girls,” he accepted, feeling Cerise’s tiny head by his heart. Where Sarah also was and would be forever.

But now, he had Ellie, Cerise, and you, the woman he would never let go.

________________________

Taglist: @aonungs-tsahik @buckysmainhxe @amethystwonders11 @kyuupidwrites @bookfrog242 @acornacreacure @enbywan @ipadkidsworld @my-obsession-spn @happycupcakeenthusiast @thesameoldboo @spideysimpossiblegirl @tubble-wubble @flightlexsbird @randomstory56 @mimento-more @royalty-cashinout @ayamenimthiriel @eddies-bat-tattoos @kassieesworld @damnzelsoul @floffytofu @rintheemolion @coldheartedmar @woofgocows @d4rno @marantha @floralsightings @pedro-pascal-3nthusiast @holb32 @harperdoodle

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day eighteen: cockwarming kink

>>> idk why shiggy and cockwarming are like peanut butter and jelly to me...like i only have cravings for him when i'm deep in the caverns of my mental illness but...this is yummy? and i don't think it counts as cockwarming but shut up!!!

>>> starring: tomura shigaraki x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: cockwarming, established relationship, degradation, exhibitionism, fingering (fem receiving), p n v, creampie, implied multiple rounds. >>> wc: 3.1k >>> event masterlist

it was league tradition at this point. not even when the members were scattered to the winds to gather intel and work official villain business did the group miss weekly movie night. some members may or may not be there some weeks, sometimes you were all together, coupled off into platonic and romantic pairings to view whatever your leader picked out. whenever you were there, he let you pick, but it’s been quite some time since you’ve been back home. shigaraki regrets sending you so far out of reach. this assignment had taken you much longer than he would have liked, way longer. correspondence had grown slower, each message shorter than the last. you were tailing hawks to make sure he was trustworthy and it seems it was giving you a great deal of trouble. 

or maybe hawks was loyal to the heroes like shigaraki suspected and had gotten to you with his agenda, turning you into a double agent. well, no, that couldn’t be it. if that were so, you would do a better job of acting normal to keep him off your case. did you need help? no, again, he knows you would just tell him that too, so what was going on with you? were you mad at him? had he done something before you left? 

he thinks back a couple of months—the unbearable length of time you’ve been gone—trying to think of any reason you could be short with him. you didn’t have any big fights, he didn’t forget any anniversaries or special occasions, and he went easier on toga like you asked him to. the only possible thing he can think of is the fact that it was saturday, aka movie night, when you left— and he fell asleep watching the movie you picked—meaning he didn’t get to spend your last night with you or give you any goodbye-and-good-luck dick. he sighs aloud at the realization. you were absolutely petty enough to hold that against him, but he hoped you wouldn’t prolong your mission just to prove a point. 

this is the first time since the league started this little routine that he’s wanted to call it off. the rest of the league missed you too, if not because you were their friend, it was because tomura had grown so intolerable and irritable in your absence that they were begging nightly for your return. when saturday rolled around, and you still weren’t back, they watched their fearless leader sulk around like a kicked puppy all day. each member dreaded the nighttime. shigaraki was prone to throwing tantrums when he saw any of the league members get too friendly with one another in your absence, so it looks like they’ll all have to sit spread out for movie night. 

was he to be held accountable for the things he said and did while busy wallowing in his grief? some may say yes, but he was a strong believer in live and let live—you were certainly his better half. but you’ve been away for close to three months, and your effects are wearing off. he was incredibly snappy as he set the theater room up, the shitty little projector dabi stole was clearly running on its last legs. he was in no mood to pick out a goofy movie, not whenever he was wondering if you were even coming back at this point. he barked at twice to find something to watch—and the man was heavily influenced by toga’s opinions, so suicide squad seemed to be the answer. what a trash pick, he thinks. it’s why he’s in charge, and why only your opinions can influence his own. you would never have allowed suicide squad. 

that’s not the only reason tomura misses you, of course. he misses working on your own missions together, decorating the hideout to make it feel more like a home, the way you’d sit with him as he plays video games in his room, or how you two would cuddle as you’re falling asleep with his glove-clad hands all over you, and of course, your drooling pussy sucking him in over and over again. it’s been nearly three months since he’s gotten to see your face, inhale your familiar scent, or get anywhere close to cumming. he can’t even use his own hand anymore—you’ve spoiled him. he’s always been a shitty sleeper, too, but your body in his grasp was the magical cure—so of course he’s been getting next to no rest without you. he’ll never send you on a mission again. 

when he hears several bustling voices and a relieved “thank whoever put us on this flaming pile of shit” from dabi, he knows you’re home. mr. compress and kurogiri escort you into the movie room, where he waits for you. tomura nearly shouts, either at you for being gone so long or in relief that you’re finally home, he’s not sure. the corner of his mouth slides up in a reserved grin, but everyone can see the light return to his eyes. god forbid a world where you didn’t come back to him. 

“sorry i’m late for movie night everyone! i missed you!” you sing out to greet the room, but you’re only looking at your exhausted boyfriend. though he always carried a certain tired stress, he looked worse than usual, and you know that he hasn’t slept through the night since you’ve been gone. you’re on the love seat next to him immediately, jumping all over him and tightening your arms around his neck. his grin spreads, and kurogiri plays the movie to keep everyone else from having to watch in on your reunion and sickening love fest. 

he slides his arm around your back, humming sleazily in your ear. “finally. took you long enough, babe.” he huffs, taking that deep inhale of your sweet smell and sighing his relaxation quietly. his mood is relieved just by holding your frame and feeling your soft hair tickling his cheek. you giggle and sigh too, and he feels the weight of your body slump into his. 

“don’t i know it, was beginning to think you hated me for sending me out there for so long.” you pout, releasing him from your grip to gain sight of his face. he rolls his eyes at you, shaking his head with a tiny amused grin donning his features. 

“you’ll never leave this hideout again. i missed you.” he pinches some of your hair between his fingers and curls the piece around his digits as he looks over your face, gazing at your soft eyes and gentle lips, full cheeks, and everything else he’s missed for what feels like forever. you hum in intrigue at the ‘threat’ and kiss him. you can’t afford to go too hot and heavy with all your friends in the room, but you wanted your boyfriend to know you missed him just as badly as he missed you. your nights weren’t spent sleeping comfortably and every day you felt more and more lost without tomura’s logic keeping you on task. you nibble at his bottom lip, laving your tongue over him with a little moan. he grins, you’re the extrovert, but he’s not shy about making you noisy in front of the others. you feel him smile against your lips before he pulls away, trailing kisses over your cheek until he can bite the lobe of your ear. you gasp sharply, and he’s tossing a blanket over your hips for modesty’s sake. 

you smirk knowingly, lifting your skirt over your ass as the blanket falls in your lap. “oh so my little slut did miss me..” he whispers, licking over your jawline as he reaches under the blanket. the pads of his first two fingers swipe over you panties, tracing the outlines of your lips with a nasty little grin. he can feel your wetness pooling against the fabric already, your desperation making his cock rise against his sweats. he casts his eyes around to make sure no one’s watching, but he’s trained his league better than that. he slides his hand under your waistband, finding your clit automatically. you feel your stomach flutter in response to his touch, the fabric of his mostly fingerless gloves scratch against the inside of your thigh as he presses his sinewy finger in circles around your bundle. you fall against him, head rolling around on his shoulder within seconds. 

he knew you like he built you himself, and he knew that after a trip away—the both of you were insatiable—but you were all too easy to work up. you would tell him all about the mission later. there would be plenty to catch up on after he gives you all you’ve been missing here lately. tomura would be lying if he said that watching you stifle your noises and wiggle against the cushions didn’t affect him, his dick was crying for you. fingering you in front of the league was one thing, fucking you was another. but his body was growing too hot to bear, and he could tell from the need in your eyes that even having him inside you would relieve some of your ache. that should be fine, they wouldn’t look at you no matter what—they knew better than that, but he still didn’t want them hearing your sweet sounds. that was just for him. but with your hips bucking into his hand, and yours clamping down over your mouth as he shoves you over the edge with his fingers—he knows he’ll need to feel you. 

he’s pulling himself out of his sweatpants before he can argue with himself too long about it. his cock stands straight up in wait, and before you know it, tomura’s hands are on your hips and he’s pulling you into his lap. your brain was still mush, veins coursing with the pleasure of being reunited and under his spell. you were so focused on not making any noises that you didn’t even give your needy boyfriend a look of disapproval. he pretends like you’re the problem as if he would be able to sit here with his hands to himself, but you know the truth. shigaraki is just as helpless as you are, hence his finger curling around your panties and hooking them to the side so he can lower you on his waiting cock. 

he makes you sit all at once, and he clamps his free hand over your mouth before you can react to the stretch. then he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you back to meet his chest. “keep quiet and sit still.” 

you nod vigorously, though you know you’re agreeing to something impossible. you were crazy with need, his fingers only unlocked the gate of your desire. you hadn’t had this dick in you for too long, and now that the length is fully sheathed in you—you’re ordered to sit still? it burns, your hole needed to be stretched back open to accommodate his sizeable length, long curved shaft angled just right against the spots you needed him most–but it wasn’t enough. you needed movement, you needed to hear him grunt and moan and speak unimaginable filth in your ear. you whine out softly, when the movie was loud enough you thought only tomura would hear.

he can feel you squeezing, and despite his orders, you wiggle in his lap irregardless. he should have known you wouldn’t be able to handle obedience after so much time apart, but it’s nothing he can’t remind you of. truth be told, he’s losing his cool too. he missed your wet cunt gripping him like this—how could he be angry at you for needing him so badly when he’s no better? he couldn’t, really, he could only be amused with your affection for him even if it assuaged every worry he had about you leaving him all that time you were gone. his hands dig into your fatty hips to use them as his own personal stress ball, kneading and squeezing on his whim. he can feel everything, every nerve on his body was acutely aware of every labored breath you took and each pound of his heart. he didn’t know if he could be strong much longer—and he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut. 

“you guys have your own room—why do we have to suffer through this?” dabi huffs out, clearly aware of what was going on in the room. twice clasps his hands by his cheek, disagreeing with his teammate. 

“young love! they just missed each other! at least he isn’t pout—” 

“out.” tomura hisses, cock jumping from knowing you were caught. you just clamp around him in answer, just as shameless as your boyfriend. “don’t speak—get out.” 

the other members gave mixed reactions, some rolled their eyes and huffed their way out the door, the others chuckled knowingly—they would rather deal with this shigaraki than the one that misses you any day of the week. when the door shuts and you two are left alone, a mixture of fabric and skin taps against your jaw. tomura held your face in his grip, fingers dancing along your bone in a teasing way. 

“my slut forgot how to listen, hm?” he asks rhetorically, sliding his grip to your neck. he squeezes with just the right amount of pressure to make you dizzy and open your mouth—though he can’t see your skanky face right now. you’re lucky he was just as needy right now or he was liable to leave his dick in you until it went soft without ever moving—but tonight? tonight he needed to reclaim his slutty little cunt until the sun came up. 

“been so long since i had to take orders.” you huff, maybe you were annoyed with him after all. 

he snickers. “attitude, little slut.” he says with a harsher squeeze to your neck. tomura can’t deny his entertainment–you got your nickname from your neediness, after all. “are you really mad at me?” he asks, and you know he wants a real answer. 

“annoyed—why’d you want me gone?” you huff, and he angles his hips up into you without warning. you gasp sharply at the stab, leaning forward to hold onto his knees. 

“didn’t want you gone, brat.” he sighs, letting off your throat in favor of holding the natural handlebars of your curves as he pushes your back forward to watch his dick plow in and out of you, his grip your only guidance. your moans start immediately, and he can’t help but smirk. “you’re my right hand, you’re the only one i can trust with some shit.” 

you purr at his explanation, bouncing along him on your own accord. he’s massive, filling every gap your pussy had to offer unapologetically. he presses against the entrance of your cervix without any movement at all, much less the animalistic style your boyfriend liked to fuck in, it was brutal. but so so good. it burns and sends shooting yet blissful pain through your body with every stroke, you slip forward a little, growing unable to hold yourself up. he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back up without remorse. 

“where you going, slut?” he teased, slamming up into you. it was unfair, he was gifted with such a huge dick he didn’t even need a good angle to absolutely wreck you. he was mesmerized by the sight of your cute little hole puckering around him, swallowing him whole and letting him slide back out. you would squeeze down with every thrust, making him slow down to pull himself out and speedily shove back in. “can’t even take good dick anymore?” 

you mewl out in response, your fingers digging into his thighs as your back arches deeper, only encouraging your boyfriend to speed it all up. it’s like you can feel him in your throat, your entire body being used and abused by the man you missed desperately. shigaraki treats you like his prized treasure any other time, but especially after a trip away—you love being his slut. you moan and through your ass back, making him groan out at the conflicting paces. 

“so nasty. fucking you stupid and look at you—like a bitch in heat.” he chuckles, though it’s all so pornographic to him. no other pussy in the world would feel like yours, your cute clamping and sticky wetness could never be beat. and your insides practically beat into the shape of him, he knows no other dick would have your toes curling as you bounce  and squeal. 

“tomura—” your breathy moan makes his balls hurt. he didn’t care how quickly he came this time. he’ll keep you spread open all night until he’s satisfied with the amount of cum seeping out of the hole made just for him. he wanted you to cum twice as many times as he does, so your sweet moan of his name and your fluttering pussy only tell him to snake his arm around your hips so he can rub your puffy clit again. he loves these gloves you got him, the mesh fabric makes it easier for him to feel everything without fear of quirk activation. he can feel your pulsing need under his fingertips, and he smiles at your sensitivity. you were such a gift to a man like him. 

“what? use your words.” he huffs in disinterest, though you know it’s anything but. your gut lurches, feeling like you stepped on an escalator that was moving too fast. 

“wanna cum, can i please, tomura?” you ask sweetly, calling his name just how he liked and everything. he had every intention of drawing this out—but he supposes he can have that during your next round. 

“do it now.” he orders, gruff voice telling you that there would be no punishment if you didn’t—unless you considered taking him all night a punishment. the sound of him groaning and feeling your body made it easy to follow his orders, your hips still even as his continue their assault. you shake from head to toe, the orgasm so intense after such a long time without cumming on his cock. you squeeze down so hard he sucks in a deep breath, knowing he was going to shoot his load like mount vesuvius. you hum happily, wiggling back on him to milk all the warmth he gave you. he slows his hips to a stop, panting only a little as he pushes you carefully off his lap and onto the love seat. “want to see my slut’s nasty faces this time.” 

he grins as he spreads your legs again, ready to stain the cushions beneath, when someone knocks at the door. twice pounds on the frame again, pouting. 

“can you guys at least pause the movie?” 

[bellasprettywords]

So High School pt. II (Spencer Reid x Reader)

a/n: This little one shot is the continuation for So High School, I really hope you guys enjoy it

As always, this is not proofread because of who I am as a person

My masterlist

Warnings: Just fluff and kissing

Word count: 813

y/n – your name

Part 1

Saturday finally came around, and you were a little too excited about your date with Reid; you finished tying up and prepping the living room, making sure you had enough blankets, cushions, and snacks, so everything could go perfectly. Once again, the feeling of being sixteen, and having your first hang out after school with the guy you were crushing on invaded your whole body, and made your stomach flutter with excitement, when suddenly, you heard a buzzing from the intercom.

“Hi, y/n, this is Spencer… Reid!” you heard the young doctor stutter nervously, and the butterflies in your stomach went crazy

“Hi, let me buzz you in, and you already know the way up” you said trying to sound cool, and collected, but pretty sure that the huge smile on your face sounded through the intercom. After a couple of minutes, you heard a soft knocking on your door, you opened it and the gorgeous Doctor was leaning over the door frame, holding a small cardboard box.

“I brought pie! You know, because we are watching American Pie, I’m not sure what the movie is about, but if it’s about pies we are prepared” Spencer said, handing you the little box with a huge grin, with his cheeks turning bight pink

“Thank you, wow, that’s lovely, although there are not that many pies in American Pie… it actually the expression… well, you’ll see, please come on in” you said chuckling. Gosh! He really was the sweetest man in the whole world, and you just couldn’t believe that you’d have him all by yourself for at least a couple of hours

“Please take a sit wherever you’d like” you said motioning to your couch, “And, would you like anything to drink? I’ve got water, soda, tea, juice, and coffee, although it may be kinda late for coffee, you know?” you asked Spencer walking into the kitchen

“Actually, coffee was great, I’d take it with five sugars, please” he said, taking a look around your apartment living room, making you a little nervous about him profiling you through the stuff that’s lying around in the room

“Damn Doctor Reid, and you wonder why you can’t stop shaking” you said chuckling to hide the fact that you were nervous about having your crush at home. You sat down on the couch handing Spencer his coffee, and trying to shake away the nervousness that the situation created for you: you were alone, in your apartment, with the guy you’ve been crushing on for the last two years, but you were always too shy to admit it.

You played the movie and for the first fifteen minutes the two of you were completely immobile, but as the jokes progressed, you could feel Spencer and yourself moving closer and closer to each other. In the blink of an eye, you were cuddling under a blanket with your face leaned on Spencer’s shoulder and his arm was wrapped around you, softly caressing your arm.

“Do you know what this reminds me of?” you asked, looking up at the guy whose arms you were wrapped on

“Tell me” he said, looking into your eyes sweetly

“This date definitely reminds me of high school dates, you know, just hanging out watching a movie, although, those date usually ended with heavy make out sessions” you said jokingly and Spencer gulped loudly

“I… I wouldn’t know, I graduated from high school at 12, so I didn’t really have any dates with my peers” he said looking a bit embarrassed maybe?

“Oh, well, you didn’t miss much, I mean, dates pretty much went like this, although…” you said sitting up straight on the couch and Spencer gave you a puzzled look; you knew this was your chance, and you were going to take it. You leaned slowly towards Spencer, caressing his cheek with your hand, as you felt him leaning closer to you

“Is it okay if I…?” you started asking, but were quickly interrupted by Spencer’s lips, merging sweetly into yours. You moved your hands to his head, where you caressed Spencer’s curls, and you felt him placing his hands to your waist, making you sit closer to him as the kiss progressed. Spencer swiftly pulled you over his lap, and you gave a small bite to his lower lip, which gave Spencer the green light to insert his tongue into your mouth and move his hands from your waist, to your lower back

“Thank you” Spencer said in between kissed, which made you pull away from him to understand what was going on, so he went on “You know, for giving me the High School experience I missed out on” he said with a small smile forming into his lips

“You don’t have to thank me, but I’ll take another kiss” you said jokingly and Spencer leaned once more, kissing you tenderly

[moonstruckme]

so requests are open again, can i así for a Robin fic where she tries to ask Reader out but she is really nervous and all cute?

Thanks for requesting babe!

Robin Buckley x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You have no idea how Robin managed to get Keith to let three of you work the Saturday shift, but you owe her your life for it. 

Normally, you end up by yourself, uneventful weekday nights where you organize and reorganize the clearance section, talking to yourself since the last time you brought a book and Keith’s boss caught you on the cameras you got chewed out. 

Robin and Steve have a routine of their own. They pulled a hidden stock of snacks out of the break room, gossipped about who had borrowed what movies for how long and what that meant, made up ridiculous life stories for the customers that came in. Then Dustin had come over and Robin had relegated the boys to the back room. You like Steve, but you’re not mad about it; having Robin all to yourself makes your stomach do flips like it does on a rollercoaster. 

“Okay,” she says in a low voice, eyes tracking a customer who’s just wandered into the teen section. You’ve hopped up on the counter, sitting with your back to the door and your legs dangling, and her elbow is about three inches from touching your thigh. “The guy in the tank top. What do we think about him?” 

“He looks like he just rolled out of bed.” Which isn’t unreasonable, because it’s only ten. “Who comes to rent a movie first thing in the morning?” 

“Someone desperate,” Robin agrees. You’re both leaning in as you talk in near-whispers, but that distance between her arm and your leg stays. 

You hum. “He could have kids.” 

“Does he really look like someone who has kids?” 

“I don’t know what people who have kids look like. I guess there’s probably a variety.” 

“Fair…” She kisses her teeth as she watches him, big eyes narrowed sneakily. “I don’t know, I think he’s horny.” 

Your laugh is so loud and sudden you have to clamp a hand over your mouth. A customer browsing near you gives you an odd look, and you murmur an apology. Robin looks delighted. 

“Why would you think that?” you hiss at her. “He’s just looking for a movie.” 

Her expressions turns sheepish, complete with a cute half-smile that makes your brain buzz distractingly. “It’s possible I have some information you don’t.” 

You lean back on your hands and tilt your head, looking at her curiously. 

Robin leans in close. “He rented Fast Times five days ago and hasn’t returned it.” 

Her eyes are sparkling with amusement. With great effort you tear your gaze from them, looking past her at the man. “Oh,” you say, “yeah, I see it. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in days. I’ll bet he’s been locked in his mom’s basement watching the pool scene on repeat.” 

She turns her head down toward your leg to hide a smile, and her laugh tickles down your spine like a grazing touch. You have to trap your bottom lip between your teeth to keep your own grin from getting too out of hand. 

“This is fun,” you blurt. Or, it feels like a blurt, but Robin doesn’t seem to note your abruptness, only turning her eyes up to yours curiously. “Hanging out, I mean. I wish we worked the same shifts more often.” 

“Yeah, I—it is fun.” Robin’s smile gets a funny look to it, her gaze flitting down to the counter. “I’d rather work with you than Steve anytime. Not that you’re, like, only just better than Steve, obviously you’re tons better than him, I just meant that—Steve, he’s actually not terrible, I mean he’s probably my best friend, and he and I hang out outside work all the time, so—” She presses her lips together as if physically stopping herself. You chew your bottom lip. “Basically, I like hanging out with you even more than him, which is…not as low a bar as you might think.” 

“I don’t think that’s a low bar,” you say through a smile. “Steve seems cool.”

She scoffs. “He’s not. Don’t let him think you think that.” 

“He seems nice, I mean. Nicer than he was in high school.” 

“Exactly.” Robin lifts her stare to yours again, something like relief in it. “Yeah, he’s…better. He, like, had a spiritual change or something.” 

“Maybe he found good influences.” You nudge her leg with the toe of your shoe. She makes a scratchy laughing sound, looking away from you again. 

“We hang out a lot outside of work,” she says.

“You mentioned that.” 

“We could try that.” 

You blink, her candor cutting through the light and flirty feeling you’ve fallen into like a knife. 

“You and me?” 

“Yeah.” Her eyes find yours. “Like, if you wanted to hang out more, we don’t have to—I mean, we could, totally, we just don’t have to—do it here. At the store.” Her throat bobs so quick you almost miss it. Your chest feels tight, but not entirely unpleasantly. “We could go to the movies, or to get pizza, or to the roller rink—I don’t actually really know what you like to do, but you have to like movies, right? We could definitely watch a movie.”

There’s a commotion in your stomach. You want to look down and check again the distance between her arm and your thigh, but for some reason now it feels like too much of a risk. “Like, with Steve?” you ask. 

Robin’s nose wrinkles. “Definitely not with Steve.” 

“So, just us.” 

In the corner of your eye, you see her hands flex on the countertop. “If you want,” she says quietly. 

You wet your lips. When you take a second too long to answer, she goes on, “Or we could totally invite other people, if that’s what you want to do.” 

“No,” you say quickly. “Just us is…is good.” 

“Really?” Robin sounds so surprised you can’t help but smile. She smiles back, tentatively, like she’s not one-hundred percent sure if she’s in on the joke but she’s happy if you’re happy. 

“Yeah.” You lower your voice, glancing around the store. You’d nearly forgotten you were in public. You think for a second you catch Steve looking, but he directs his stare to the movies he’s organizing, smiling to himself and waving off something Dustin’s said. “I’m not doing anything tomorrow, if you want to see what’s showing then.” 

Robin grins, huge and heart-stutteringly pretty. It shows all her teeth and little lines shoot out from her eyes like rays of sunshine. “Do you like thrillers?” 

“Sure.” No. 

She leans forward conspiratorially, and it takes every ounce of willpower you possess not to look down when you feel her skin make contact with the side of your thigh. Your heart starts beating hummingbird fast. “Perfect.” 

[deadhands69]

Something More [than this]

Katsuki Bakugo x gn reader

MDNI

Setting: mid-time skip, Senior Year of College. Reader did not attend UA high, just joined for university. Enemies to lovers (with a lot in between.)

part 1  -  part 2  -  part 3  -  part 4 -  part 5 -  part 6  -  part 7 - this is part 8

Half your class still looks hungover, cursing whoever decided to throw a massive party the Saturday before a busy school week. One explosive blonde looking worse than the rest of them.

Katsuki had a dumpster fire of a weekend, leading to this shitty morning. 

After being away on a trip for his side-kick work, he returned Saturday afternoon. Despite working crazy hours, he considered texting you when he had the time. He wanted to tell you about his day and ask how your day went. To get your opinion on some of the villains he'd been dealing with. Honestly, it had been so stressful he'd just be happy to hear your familiar voice. But he didn’t want to be needy. And there wasn’t anything he could offer you at a distance so he skipped it. Plus, you didn’t text him either so he figured you were busy with your own life. He could just tell you about everything later. 

This doesn’t mean he didn’t spend the whole week thinking about you.

While he didn’t usually think of anyone that much, he reasoned that it was coincidental. What are the odds of ending up somewhere where everything there reminded him of you? Must have been the location. He wondered if you’d ever been to the area, he thinks you’d like it. The villains reminded him of you too, your quirk would have worked great with his against them. Additionally, he rationalized, his body had become used to being with you every night. Not having that release was hard, especially when the last time he saw you was the best sex he's ever had. Maybe he could ask you for pictures while he was away. No, he thought, that's too big of an ask and he didn't have time or energy to touch himself anyways.

Finally, the last day arrived and he felt hopeful. It was a long one but he'd be home soon. At a small shop he patrolled by, he got you a gift. Sure, everything reminded him of you, but this especially so. And it’s something friends do while visiting other places, right? He still wasn’t sure of that but when he saw it, he knew you needed to have it. Yeah, he decided, it is what friends do.

Coming back was rough. The little sleep he got on the flight did nothing to counteract how massively wrecked his body felt. Cursing every step, he dragged himself back to his dorm -  throwing his oversized bag near the closet before stripping his clothes straight into the laundry basket and jumping in the shower. Without time to clean up before traveling, he felt disgusting all day. The water ran dark, tainted with the ash and blood he was covered in. Every cut on his body stung but it’s the closest to human he’d felt in a few days so he’ll take it. 

His friends were going to a party. They said you’d be there too. Normally, he’d pass but after a week away, it would be good to see friends (you). For a moment, he considered inviting you over to watch a movie instead and have a more low-key night but thought better of it. This was already unofficially deemed the biggest blowout of the year (on a fucking random week in February??) and he couldn’t take that away from you. Also, a bit more insecurely, what could he offer you in comparison to that? It's not like you were dating.

So, it was decided. He’d have a big dinner, change into something decent, and go. Maybe he could convince you to leave early with him.

He showed up to the lobby a minute too late to see you with your friends. That’s okay though. You would find him when he got there, the two of you would catch up, and everything would be fine. He was happy enough to walk with his own friends, sharing stories of their weeks too.

Immediately after he showed up, some extra cornered him. Spewing the same old shit everyone does when they’re trying to be flirty. Something something so brave something. His eyes glazed over while she talked; all he could think about was you. She kept leaning into him so much he had to keep his hand on her shoulder to hold her back. Feeling stuck, he wanted to blast her away from him but he was just so. Fucking. Tired. He barely entertained the conversation, saying whatever terse comments he thought would get him out of there the fastest. This exchange served no purpose. It's not like he’d take her home with him anyways. Without ever consciously acknowledging it, he has no interest in random girls anymore.

On top of being known for his explosive personality, there are other reasons it isn’t hard for him to turn someone down. Up until a few years ago, he’d never slept with (or even kissed) anyone. Seeing all of his classmates pass him in that aspect made him feel left behind. So, he fixed that. It wasn’t just about numbers either. He always wanted to be the best at everything, sex included. And how could he be the best without lots of practice? Even he knows it's arbitrary, but he still had to try. And he got good, some might even say, great at it. Regardless of that progress, there have been times he questioned what the point was in any of this. 

That is, until it was with you. 

All of his hard work finally paid off the first night he got you in his room. He loves the sounds and faces you make when he touches you. The way your fucked out face looks as soon as his dick goes in. Or how loud you are for him when you’re close. He loves the way he can have you cumming on his hand in less than a minute. Or how it feels to hold you up, your whole body falling into him when he fucks one of the smartest people he knows until they're too stupid to stand. Suddenly, it all felt worth it. Shit, he had to stop thinking about this or he was going to give himself a boner.

Back to the party.

It took him a few minutes to rid himself of her and he set off to find you. He could have sworn he saw you out of the corner of his eye earlier. When he asked your friends if they knew where you went, Raccoon Eyes said something about meeting up with Aizawa.

“Right now?” he asked, he thought you had a little crush on Eraserhead but having you over at 10pm seems weird on the professor’s part. He’s not a creep though and you're his student, maybe it was an emergency?

“Nooooo,” the pink girl slurred, trying to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder but missing completely. “Tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry Bakugo, she’s fine,” added Ears, “she left with Shinso like ten minutes ago.”

Neither of them see the flash of hurt on his face. Sure, both of your friends (and some of his) know about your arrangement but Mina is the only one holding out hope he has any amount of emotional investment in it. And even she's not so sure. So there wouldn't be reason for them to specify if they don't assume he cares.

“Oh, that freak? And you let this happen? You've gotta be fucking kidding me,” he says, before walking away from the conversation.

He knows you’re just friends. 

Of course he knows that. Neither of you want more than that, right? But he still thought he was your first option. That you’d never leave the party with someone else if he was there. His contact pic in your phone is the two of you cuddled up on the kitchen floor, he figured he has to mean something to you. Besides, it’s rude to ditch your friends after they leave for a week. That has to be the pain he’s feeling, you left him there without saying anything. Why else would everything hurt so bad?

He bailed on the party after that. In retrospect, he knows your friends would probably tell you about how he yelled at them about you leaving with another guy and it wouldn't be a good look, but he couldn't be bothered to care. With any luck, they're used to it and it would never come up again. And he'd never have to explain himself. That wasn't the concern right now though. 

Katsuki slept like shit that night, tossing and turning. He couldn’t get the image of you with that purple haired freak out of his mind. His hands all over your body. His mouth. His -

Fuck. 

Theoretically, he could go over there. You all live in the same building, he vaguely knows the which room it is. While you probably wouldn't be as loud with that asshole as you are with him, surly he'd still hear something. Katsuki fantasizes about kicking his door down and smashing his face in. It would be easy, he'd just have to keep his mouth shut. And then...you'd thank him for being so amazing and coming to your rescue? No, you'd call him a cockblock, get him expelled, and never talk to him again.

So, sitting with his feelings it is.

He tells himself it’s a platonic thing. That he’s worried about you, his friend who went home with someone he doesn’t trust. And he’s upset because you, his friend, left before saying hi after you hadn’t seen him for a week. That’s a valid reason to be upset, to want to check on you. But rationalizing doesn't help. And the nagging feeling in his gut chases him into the next day.

All day Sunday, he doesn’t leave his room. Playing video games, trying as hard as possible to not think about anything but farming runes and annihilating bosses. 

But he can’t.

And you don’t text.

One more sleepless night while he lays confused as to how friendship problems can hurt so much when he's never felt like this before. Was it unreasonable to assume it would always be the two of you continuing like that forever? He doesn't think so. Before he knew it, the alarm clock over his bed read 6:45 - he might as well get up at this point. 

He makes breakfast (that he barely eats) and throws his hero costume on to head over to Ground Beta. 

Today’s the day your project ends. The written portion having been turned in a while ago, now it’s a competition between all of the teams to see who’s the last to get eliminated. It’s bittersweet, he thinks. What if your friendship was only for the duration of the project? No, he can't let that happen. Even if you have been ignoring him all weekend.

Seeing you in the training area, he doesn't miss the nods between you and purple hair as he joins you to walk to your designated start point. A surge of anger shoots through him. Deep breath, he reminds himself. Time to play it cool.

“Hey, you didn’t talk to me Saturday and you left with him,” he nearly yells, gesturing vaguely towards Shinso who is glaring at him.

“Oh,” you look slightly confused, “he walked me home when you- when I didn’t wanna be there.”

“So you didn’t…” he trails off, feeling like an idiot for asking.

“What would it matter to you? You don’t do relationship shit, right?” your voice is venomous, but the content of what you're saying shouldn't be unexpected. 

Katsuki stepped back, unsure of why your words make him feel like you just punched him in the chest.

“READY? GO!” Present Mic’s voice echoes through the building.

Your turn now.

The competition starts and you’re at a loss of what to do. The boy you’d been working with all term, now standing listlessly in front of you. Earlier, you thought you said what he’d want to hear but now, seeing the tears welling in his big red eyes, you’re not so sure.

He looks rough. Beautiful as ever, but a bit more pale with his apparent lack of sleep etched into the bags under his eyes. You'd probably look the same if Shinso hadn't used his quirk to make you sleep the past two nights (still nothing going on there, he just uncomfortable seeing you cry then hearing what happened from Jiro. He felt bad, wanting to help more, but it was the most anyone could do for you all weekend.)

Bakugo is still frozen in front of you, swaying slightly.

“Katsuki, are you-”

Okay? 

You meant to say ‘okay’, but instead find yourself jumping forward to block him with your quirk while Tsuyu and Kaminari came in to attack. The latter, expelling a bit too much electricity that was all quickly reflected back at them both, rendering Tsuyu unconscious and Kaminari dazed by the overuse of his quirk. Neither you nor your teammate take any damage. Looks like the one training session with Aizawa yesterday went a long way.

“FROPPY AND CHARGEBOLT ARE BOTH ELIMINATED!” Present Mic announces. ("yayyyy," yells Kaminari.)

Your attention turns back to Bakugo, who you’d knocked onto the ground with you in the scuffle. After the weekend you had, you want nothing more than to leave him alone but you can’t help but care a little when he looks like he’s about to cry or pass out from exhaustion.

The moment Bakugo raises his head and sees that you had blocked him from the attack, his tired eyes widen and his jaw drops. Realization hits him like a dump truck. Every oddly stacked excuse in his brain slides into the right place and everything makes sense now. 

“Oh, fuck,” he mumbles, pulling his hands to his face while continuing to stare at you.

What is happening? You don't have time to think about it, more of your classmates are approaching.

By some miracle, the competition went okay considering the circumstances. Somehow, you scrambled into third place, after your teammate snapped out of his coma. He never did explain himself though, instead grabbing you by the arm and pulling you out of Ground Beta as soon as you were both eliminated. 

“Where are we going?” you ask. He remains silent.

He must be pissed at you for something, you think as he marches you up the stairs towards his room. Honestly, you’re not in the mood to deal with it - he lost that courtesy over the weekend. Considering pulling away, you tug your wrist from his grasp causing him to turn towards you for the first time since dragging you out of Ground Beta. Much to your surprise, he’s not angry -  he looks terrified.

“Did you get hit by a quirk or something?” his tongue-tied state becoming concerning.

He simply shakes his head, pulling you into his dorm and pushing you onto the bed. This is the last place you want to be after everything that's happened.

“Sit here for a sec,” he finally speaks, rummaging through his still fully packed bag. 

“Here,” he tosses something small at you before moving to sit on the floor by your legs.

An Eraserhead keychain, it's nearly impossible to find merchandise for him. This would be a really amazing gift if you didn’t think the man giving it was just doing so to tease you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t have a crush on our teacher-”

“No, it’s not that,” he continues, ”the hero you wanted to be doesn’t usually do merch so it- it reminded me of you,” he looks up at you, his flushed cheeks finally adding some color to his face. Seeing that you’re still listening, he tries to keep his voice even, “then everything reminded me of you. I thought it was just the place or the villains but the more I think about it, everything always reminds me of you. I think about you constantly.”

Now you’re the one left speechless. 

No response isn't a rejection so he continues, “I don't think I can just be your friend anymore. I need - I need something more than this.”

You ponder for a moment, this conversation doesn't seem possible. Maybe it's a dream? No, hitting your ass falling on the floor earlier hurt too much for you to be asleep. This is definitely happening.

“Are you sure you can do that?" you ask, "what about the girl from the other night-”

“There is no other girl," he sounds exasperated. "There hasn’t been for a while. You see me every fucking night, you know that,” his eyes plead for you to believe him.

Weirdly, you do.

“Oh. at the party I saw you with someone. I thought-”

“You thought I was with someone else and you left with purple hair?”

“He walked me home. That’s it. I was-” he’s been honest with you so you take a deep breath before sharing your side of the story, “I was really fucked up when I thought you were hitting on someone else. I know I shouldn’t have felt that way in our situation. But I did. I like you a lot more than I was supposed to. And I thought you didn’t feel the same.”

“Me too,” he adds, "does this mean...?"

"Yeah."

The two of you sit in silence, taking time to process everything that's happened. Your now boyfriend smirks, still looking awkward (in the most adorable way.) Pressing-up from the floor, he moves to the bed next to you and wraps an arm around your back.

“We’re really bad at this,” you joke (it’s not a joke.)

“We’ll get better,” he smiles, moving in to kiss you like he's wanted to all week.

For the first time in a month, the kiss doesn’t lead to anything sexual. The two of you are both exhausted and don't need any excuse to be close, you can just be now. He draws the blackout curtains in his room and you both change into some of his old All Might shirts before crawling into bed. Running your hands through his soft hair, you kiss him slowly.

"I think about you all the time too, you know," you whisper. He smiles and pecks your forehead, holding you as you doze off. Everything about him feels safe and warm. You've never been so comfortable.

Katsuki lets his mind wander while he drifts off to sleep.

It’ll be hard learning how to be the best boyfriend. He’s excited for the challenge though. He’ll get good at it because it’s what you deserve. 

You stir and he pulls you closer. He's never seen anything as beautiful as you in his shirt, dreaming as you snuggle into his chest.

Yeah, he’ll definitely be great at this. And he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to be better and better for you.

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading this!! It got pretty angsty there for a bit so here's some extra fluff smut:

Bonus Epilogue

m.list

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@screaming-dough @rikislove @gold24fish @ita606 @arc6021

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