storiesofthev01d

Latest Posts by storiesofthev01d

Guys I NEED. A fic with Sanji and Reader skating/ice skating and Sanji turns out to be not so good at it. Sure he picks up pretty fast, he's good on his feet, but he's still clumsy and just haaappensss to need to hold onto them. The fact he falls and accidentally brings you down with him is purely coincidental, he swears!! He's still gonna apologize a thousand times and treat you to your favourite meal, though.

Been on my mind for a while- sorry for not posting in FOREVER 💔

But short drabble bc

⭑⭑⭑

The wind brushed against the fading green leaves, the trees lining a pathway deeper and deeper into the ever-growing scaping of plants and herbs and every so often a walker or more. The mindless chatter between you and Daryl dealt with everything and nothing, the conversation as flexible as the river that rushed so.

"Nah, that wouldn't work," Daryl huffed, his crossbow thrown over his shoulder and watching you a few paces ahead of him.

"You don't know!" You smile cheekily back at him, your arms out as you balance on the railroad, cracked and rusted from disuse, with small weeds growing inbetween the cracks and over it. "We could at least tr- oh, fuck-!" You startle, missing your footing and almost falling if not for Daryl quickly appearing by your side.

"You okay? Wha's wrong-" he looks down to see what could've startled you, falling quiet.

There, in the overgrown grass, simply grazing in all it's glory- a box turtle, eating a rather large beetle it found on the ground.

Daryl looked back at you, your shoulders square and a step behind the other man, watching the creature intently as if it insulted you personally. You saw the archer's lips twitch, likely biting back a small smile.

"...you jokin'?" His gruff voice finally rises, shifting the crossbow on his shoulder.

You bristled lightly. Who was he to judge? "Hey, turtles are freaky, okay? I'd rather not get biten from it, thanks." Maybe it was kinda irrational, but really, people downplayed turtles. They could be hella fast. And the way they bit? Mm, thanks, but no.

He gives a low chuckle that he fails to pass off as a cough, crouching down and carefuly tracing the yellow-black pattern of its shell as if to prove to you it was a harmless creature.

"Never thought I'd see you scared'a somethin' like a turtle," he teases, picking up the turtle. It immediately retreats to its shell on the touch, though its' sharp red eyes peek out from the pocket of where its' head is.

"Dixon, I swear-"

"Relax, 'm not gonna throw it at'chu," he rolls his eyes, looking at the boxed animal a moment longer before setting it back down. "Probably."

Guys.

Alexandrian era, with Reader being apart of or being in a solo traveling band. Trading songs and tales for a night under a roof. Madelyn Mei type songs. Yaelklore type songs. Yk yk???

BARD READER :0

OBSESSED with a reader who is so stupidly oblivious you wanna strangle them. With someone trying to hit on them, be it shy and subtle or loud and extravagant, and they just don't get it. Something else they don't get. Why the other character gets so flustered when they so easily hum 'Mm, that's nice, darlin' or 'thanks, love'.

PLEASE. More characters who use nicknames like it's people's proper names. Who is an idiot when it comes to love, not in a soft submissive way, but in a way that they just love so much the have trouble discerning the lines of romantic and platonic.

I'm obsessed rn so yall have to suffer with me-

I think it'd be pretty funny with a bilingual reader in the once piece crew like sanji, but instead of a romantic language, it's one that sounds real harsh [totally not projecting german rn]. They're saying something that's actually pretty sweet, but nobody can tell. Assuming they're being cussed out because of how aggressive the language sounds.

WHY is one piece taking over my BRAIN. STOP. I have TOO MANT DRAFTS with Daryl to just abandon them now 😭

Fuck it we ball [I don't wanna keep rewriting it 9373838 times so I'll just edit it while it's up]

you're JOKING I accidentally just deleted the masterlist I was working on forever now 💔💔💔💔💔💔

⋆.˚✮Heyo~!✮˚.⋆

⋅˚₊‧ ୨ Call me Void! [He/They/Jest]୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A constantly shifting concept trying their hand at practically every form of art you could think of.

ᰔᩚ Requests are Open, and Questions are always Welcome ᰔᩚ

What I WILL Write!

Trans/Queer/Neurodivergent Reader

Any gender Reader/Character [though I tend to lean towards male]

Platonic/Romantic/Queerplatonic Relationships

AUs

Heavy Angst [though please ask first]

What I Will NOT Write!

Incest, Pedophilia, Smut/Detailed Rape, Noncon/Dubcon, Babytrapping, +others.

I have the right to deny any requests that make me uncomfortable.

Characters I Write For~ Daryl Dixon [TWDS]

Masterlist Below

Masterlist

Fluff~ 🌟

Angst~ 💫

Smut~ ✨️

☾ Proper Fics ☾

• Wildflowers 🌟

Pairing: Reader x Daryl Dixon

Summary: Memories and flowers of the grazing field

TW: none

• I'd Rather Be Asleep 🌟

Pairing: Medic! Reader x Daryl Dixon

Summary: Rather than getting some much needed rest, you're again called to aid the archer. Some banter to lighten your mood?

TW: blood, medical procedures, injury

•Fishing [cont.] 🌟

Pairing: Reader x Daryl Dixon

Summary: It's not the most ethical way to do it, but it worked, so...

TW: blood, gutting a fish

𖤓 Drabbles/Yapping 𖤓

• Daryl with Western!Reader 🌟

TW: none

• Daryl and Reader with a Small Dog 🌟

TW: none

• Daryl with Depressive!Reader 🌟

TW: depression

• Daryl with Reader who's scared of turtles 🌟

TW: none

☆ Ideas ☆

• Fishing [OG post] 🌟

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

TW: none

• Trauma Bond/Cops Don't Help Much 🌟

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

TW: trauma with cops/law enforcement

• Stereotypes 🌟

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

TW: none

Okay, hear me out: Kyle Pick-Up Artist Garrick. In the sense that he is an expert at dates. Has the routine down to a T. Could become one of those douchey pick-up artists on TikTok, but he’s really doing this for the ladies, okay? Raising their standards and all.

Offers to pick you up. Shows up with a bouquet of flowers with soft colors and pastels—whites, light pinks, and light yellows. Tulips, baby’s breath, peonies. When you open the door, he’s gonna whistle lowly and exhale a huff of laughter. "Sorry, I just… wow. You look amazing." Picks out one flower from the bouquet and places it behind your ear.

Holds the elevator open, opens the door to the car—because he isn’t an amateur. Hand on your thigh, but nearer to your knee because he’s a gentleman, but he still wants you to know how much he wants you. Practiced, occasional glances at you in the rearview mirror, followed by a bashful-looking away when he sees you notice.

Pulls out the chair for you. Holds your hand the entire dinner. Maybe his ankles are brushing yours. Makes you laugh the whole time. (So what if he uses the same jokes? That’s between him and the staff at his favorite restaurant.) Feeds you his dessert with his spoon, and then licks the spoon clean.

Waits for you to go to the bathroom to pick up the check. If you don’t go to the bathroom, he’s gonna pretend to instead. You ask him about the check, and he refuses to elaborate further. Just has a lopsided grin on that beautiful face. Infuriating, really. Wraps his jacket around you so you don’t get cold. Lifts you up princess-style if you say you’re too tired to walk in your heels.

Pulls you in for a chaste, soft goodnight’s kiss at your door. Hand on the small of your back, arms bringing you closer, almost in a hug. Groaning softly into the kiss. He knows exactly the angle at which he needs to tilt his head, exactly the amount of tongue he needs to be using.

Steps away politely, but his big brown eyes look up at you. Of course, you ask him to come in. How could you not? He’s such a gentleman. And he comes in, and he backs you into a corner softly until you sit. Kneels and takes your heels off, kissing his way up your leg. He can almost smell it on you.

The night goes exactly the way he wants it to, with your clothes on the floor of your bedroom and you in his arms.

What a shame you can’t find him when you wake up in the morning, right?

So stereotypical man knows how to fix stuff, yeah? Like, helping if the washing machine broke or the toilet or the sink has a leaky pipe.

Daryl does not know how to do this. He was never taught, understandably.

I think it'd make a cute drabble with Daryl x Reader where maybe one of the group [Alexandria era] is talking about how a pipe in their house is leaking and they all sorta maybe kinda glance at Daryl because he seems to know how to do a lot of stuff. And he just clams up awkwardly, before Reader mentions they know how to fix stuff like that and offer to do it for them.

And ofc later when Reader's fixing it, Daryl's watching as they narrate what they're doing.

It may or may not be hot to him

i think daryl is like. incredibly vanilla. like not only does he not know what he's doing he'd also be terrified if you asked him to slap you or whatever LMAO like he'd just freeze nd look at you like you're insane. i think he'd only do that sort of stuff if he was in the receiving end of it

also. he has absolutely no game. i saw that one interview where norman said if daryl ever hooked up w any character he wanted him to just. cum early go cry in a corner nd then deny it all. nd ive been thinking about that for three days straight like yes #real if you want to do absolutely anything w daryl you're going to have to be the one making the first move nd asking for it cause his ass is Not doing any of that

Please draw your oc x canon please be unashamedly loud about it please post it without embarrassment please make dramatic emotional edits of them please indulge yourself

Had this idea for a while now-

Reader joining the group in season 1 or 2, and yeah everything's okay and stuff but they like. Do not trust Rick. At all. Not because he's a bad person or anything personal, but he's a cop. And they carry really bad experiences with officers/enforcers of law. And Daryl just gets that, yk. Trauma bond n stuff. Like maybe they have a shared experience trying to call the cops for help but it only made their situation worse.

Listen up!

You see a post like this? Where OP might hurt/kill themselves? You hit that button that I circled

Hit that.

Click Suicide or Self-harm Concern

Yes.

Fill in the rest of it, and hit submit. The "content you reported" will fill itself in

Tumblr will follow up and help them.

Warning: this is only for mobile. If anyone knows how to do this for desktop, please add it!

This could SAVE SOMEONE'S LIFE.

YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE NOT TO REBLOG THIS.

I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF IT DOESN'T GO WITH YOUR BLOG'S THEME.

And yes, REBLOG. Liking does no shit at all. This isn't ig.

You reblog, people see it. You don't, people don't see it. This shit's that simple.

This could save someone's life. It's not a joke.

Still not over this

“For johnny” GHOST ENGRAVED

Hear me out.

Wait. No. Pipe down and listen.

Its getting to be that time of year again. Where the sun might as well be just five feet away. Y'know what that means. Falling asleep in the sun. Also. Fics about it.

For the two people who voted lol <3 [warning- horrible quality]

And ofc my favorite

Sighing because I wanna write for a different fandom but I'd hate to accidentally mischaracterize a character even though I know people don't care but. Like. 😔 I dunno what if I say someone likes the colour blue only to later find out they have a horrible trauma response from blue. Dude. Don't even joke because I just have such ass luck like that.

Short drabble from this :p

You don't notice him for quite a while. The occassional rustle of overgrown grass from the wind and a distant crackle of water falling unto the rocky shore below it had faded into a calming soundtrack as you thought. An embarrassing amount of time, really, until Daryl lightly nudged your shoulder, worried how you weren't blinking for a concerning amount of time.

You blinked a few times before looking at him. You watched how he faltered a moment, an awkward beat, before he spoke.

"You okay?" His voice was still that rough southern you were used to, but still held that edge of softness that spoke better than anything words could.

You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes flickering back to the hazy moonlight. Breathing felt heavier in your chest, as if a boulder was tight against your chest. Not as if you were about to cry. More so... a long fought-off tired feeling. It was an uphill battle.

"I'd be lying if I say 'yes'," You finally admit, a failing attempt at a smile catching your lips a moment.

Hazy mornings grew to hazy nights, unable to remember what you did in-between the passing of time. You did something, you're sure. At least, you think are you. You can recall... hm. Not much. A few passing words. Blood of the walkers, staining your hands before being washed away in the river you and Daryl always passed by on your runs. The rustic, mucky colour that spelt of both blood and dirt swirled in the coursing water for seconds before dissipating into the quick pace of the stream.

You let out a tight breath, willing away emotions that so rudely clinged onto you like mosquitos in the summer. It felt worse, how it wasn't a need to cry or be angry, either. It tightened your lungs and made breathing feel like a labour, and sleep sounded of the finest wine- a perfect ailment, though unobtainable in your situation.

Daryl's knee tapped yours, words stuck in both your throats, but not needing to be said. He was there, and he saw you. The same way the sun rises unto flowers neglected each morning, the same way the moon glows in the comfort of night. Simple, but relevant.

And that was really all you needed.

Daryl with a partner who gets depressive episodes but not like crying all the time or laying around they just go silent. And like. Everyone's concerned because what do you mean you went quiet? No no no, the excitable guy over there? You've got the wrong person.

Still going on runs and pulling their weight where they stay, but just. Silent. Lingering a bit too much.

And Daryl doesn't know really what to do with it. He can barely healthily deal with his own emotions, comforting someone else is a big bite to chew. But he still tries. Maybe just staying with them. Nudging them with a water canister or some spare food to make sure they're eating and drinking, even if they're too zoned out to realize they're doing it. Staying by them, a mutual dampened air that's bittersweet and tainted with unspoken complications. But it's better, not being alone. It helps.

Daryl with a partner who gets depressive episodes but not like crying all the time or laying around they just go silent. And like. Everyone's concerned because what do you mean you went quiet? No no no, the excitable guy over there? You've got the wrong person.

Still going on runs and pulling their weight where they stay, but just. Silent. Lingering a bit too much.

And Daryl doesn't know really what to do with it. He can barely healthily deal with his own emotions, comforting someone else is a big bite to chew. But he still tries. Maybe just staying with them. Nudging them with a water canister or some spare food to make sure they're eating and drinking, even if they're too zoned out to realize they're doing it. Staying by them, a mutual dampened air that's bittersweet and tainted with unspoken complications. But it's better, not being alone. It helps.

Fennec came up with this poll but made me make it instead so whatever

Reblog for a greater scientific range? That's a thing people say, right? Anyways, help me torture my friend :D

what’s the vibe of your blog. everyone has their own. is it an art gallery exhibit serving canapés. a nightclub. a knights of the round table situation. a book discussion meeting. a lonely hearts club newspaper section. a bedroom where you and two friends are chatting. the school of athens debating matters of consequence. a garden tea party. a bacchanal. an agatha christie murder novel style tense dinner party. etc

“What’s the point of a relationship if you don’t want kids?”

Idk, how about COMPANIONSHIP

A LIFE PARTNER

Okay I hope you don't mind but I'm gonna continue this because- uh- yeah ':]

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

"Heyyy, so...~" You slide to sit beside Daryl, watching as he started up a fire to cook the salmon you had... caught. The fish was still cold from the water of the river, its body motionless as it sat upon the wooden stump in use as a table.

"This might sound dumb-"

"You always sound dumb."

"Okay, shut up, first of all," you huff amusedly, shifting on the log and lightly bumping the archer's shoulders. "Let me speak. I, uh, don't know how to gut a fish."

Daryl glances back at you with a not-so-subtle skepticism, his lip twitching up a split moment. "So y'know how to grab a fish like a wild bear, but y'don't know what to do with it after?" He scoffs, looking back to the fire kindling.

"..no. Am I supposed to?" You roll your eyes, ignoring the small flush of embarrassment tinting your cheeks darker. "I just never had a reason to learn."

"Where'd'ja even learn to grab a fish like that, then? For fun?" The man hums with a low chuckle, the kindling catching spark and soon building to a proper fire.

You clear your throat, a beat of quiet passing in the air. Your lack of response makes Daryl look back at you a second, before giving a huff of laughter.

"You're *joking*," he teases, a part of him waiting for you to tell him you really were joking.

"Look, growing up was weird. Boredom does some stuff to'ya," you say defensively, but can't help but smile upon seeing the usually closed-off man laugh.

"'Kay, fine. C'mere." Daryl moves closer to you, pulling out his knife as the fire warms the two of you. That, plus the way your blood rushes when his knee lightly hits yours. You brush that off, however, forcing your attention to the archer now explaining how to clean the salmon.

"So first, t'chu oughtta scale the fish- y'take yer knife, n'just go against the flow of the scales. Comes off real easy most times. Then y'cut off the fins-"

You watch with a curiosity alike that of a child, the glint of metal and fish scales catching in the firelight, popping brightly as if also interested to watch the demonstration.

"-'n when'ya gut it, yer gonna cut from the anal fin to a few inches from th'mouth. Y'remove the intestines 'n shit from there."

Your eyes trace the way Daryl's hand moves so easily against the fish, the practiced precision of his movements a subtle sublime you find in him. The cuts are clean and quick, but you can tell he's trying to slow down so you can understand the process. It makes you fluster, shifting in your spot on the log right next to the archer. The world seems to grow hazy and peaceful, quiet overtaking you two as you simply take in what Daryl's teaching you. You can hear the soft, repetitive click of grasshoppers and the occasional pop of the firewood. The river that flows ever-so-strong a distance away, the whisper of leaves brushing against each other in the wind. It takes you a second to come back when Daryl huffs, adjusting himself almost embarrassedly.

"Hell you starin' for?"

You blink before flushing and realizing you've been staring at the man's face for probably a few good minutes, quickly distracting yourself with a nearby tree that was rather interesting now that you really looked at it-

"Wha- n-nothing. Pft."

Quiet wraps the two of you once more like a used wool blanket, awkward but nice in an odd sense. Daryl moves the cleaned fish over the fire to cook, and while the air seems strained, he takes his seat beside you again. The way his knee hits yours could easily be a coincidence, but it feels too deliberate to be so, biting back a small smile in trade for a soft chuckle.

Imagine you're out with Daryl needing some food and you come across a real nice river and you go 'I know how to fish!!' And instead of actual fishing like with a rod or whatever you use you straight up just jump in the river and grab them. It's efficient somehow but he just stares at you like

I'm?? Wow???? I love this so much seriously though I choked on my drink when I saw this thank you so much

Imagine you're out with Daryl needing some food and you come across a real nice river and you go 'I know how to fish!!' And instead of actual fishing like with a rod or whatever you use you straight up just jump in the river and grab them. It's efficient somehow but he just stares at you like

calling all pookies🗣️ calling all pookies🗣️

welcome to our first ever (solo) Gaz writing! school is kind of whooping my ass rn, so I wanted to write this for yall to hold you over until I’m able to get a longer fic out. Logan x reader won the last poll, so that one will be posted first :) not sure when, but I won’t let yall go a week without feeding you don’t worry🙏

My Masterlist🌱

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x chubby!transmasc!reader

“Taste good, sweetheart?” Gaz teases when he sees a smile on your lips for the first time after tasting one of the drinks. Your face has soured after trying each and every one he brought you- but he finally found some fruity seltzer that would probably suit your palate much better.

“Mhm!” You hum sweetly, perfectly content as you sipped your drink. “It doesn’t burn going down like all the other ones did.” You hum as you read the nutrition label.

He chuckles, taking a sip of his beer as his eyes roam over your form. “You’re cutest when you’re happy.” He says with a glint in his eyes, knowing you could hear him, even over the music of the party.

Your cheeks heated up as your eyes met his own, and your smile quickly grew tenfold, much to his enjoyment. He’d been with enough men in his life to know that a man without a massive ego was a rare find. When he found a kind, humble little thing like you? He knew he couldn’t let you go. Let alone how your smile made his heart race, and how you unintentionally looked at him like you wanted to fuck him. He knew it wasn’t intentional- he mentioned ‘bedroom eyes’ once and you had no idea what he meant. It’s the fact that you’re oblivious to how charming you are- that’s what got him riled up.

Kyle was such a good friend, you often thought to yourself. He was caring, protective, and actually emotionally available which was a major plus. He always made your tummy flutter when he teased you, and your chest burn when he touched you. You couldn’t help but stare at him sometimes- he was so goddamn pretty. Sure, you’d thought about if things had gone any farther.. but doesn’t everyone imagine that?

After two cans of your now favorite drink, Gaz could tell how much more relaxed you were. Your smile was less tight, and limbs not as stiff. The little gleam in your eye was as bright as ever, clearly enjoying your surroundings, filled with loud music and flashing lights. You didn’t seem like the party type- but here you were having fun. He watches as you take the last sip of your drink, looking slightly disappointed before turning to him. “Could I have another?” You asked ever so sweetly.

He should’ve said no. He should’ve cut you off. But he couldn’t stand to tell you anything but ‘of course’ as he went to grab you another one. But what he didn’t expect, was to come back and see Soap at your side, a devious look in his eye like always. He was clearly drunk, and not shy about flirting with you. When Gaz walks over, he smirks as he watches Soap try to enamor you- but it’s clear you’re too sweet for your own good.

“Lad- Christ, yer cu’e as a button” Johnny grins as he looks down at you, his arm on the wall you were leaning back against. When you giggle softly, he practically beams, very proud of himself. “An’ listen t’ya? Wee little thing ya’ are.” He teases.

Soap’s smile made your own grow, a little ray of sunshine smiling up at him, not even noticing the very obvious hard on in his pants. “Your eyes are such a pretty shade of blue” you said softly, and Gaz could practically see Johnny short circuit. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go- he wasn’t supposed to get genuine compliments. His cheeks flushed red and he stepped back slightly, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy smile. Gaz swoops back in, handing you your drink and slipping a hand around your waist to guide you away from the party. “Bye Johnny!” You’d called out sweetly behind you, Soap trying to gather himself as he takes a slow sip of his drink, watching as Gaz whisks you away.

You smile as you look around the room, admiring the atmosphere as Gaz guides you along the wall until you reach an area with multiple couches. He sits down on one, pulling you to sit next to him. By this point he’s too drunk to care about the fact that you’re ‘just friends’, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, holding you close against his side. You giggle at the contact, taking a sip of your fresh drink with a hum. He looks down at you with a contented smile, unable to hide how he was gazing at you like you were everything. “Drink slow.” He murmurs against your ear.

You nod with a smile before taking another tiny sip, your mind fuzzy from the alcohol. You were feeling so much lighter than usual, and it was clear by your next words you were feeling much less rational. “You make me mad sometimes.” You say nonchalantly.

His smile quickly shifts, and his head tilts slightly as he looks down at you. “What did I do this time?” He asks exasperatedly.

You huff, resting your head on his shoulder. “I mean, you’re all touchy.” You mutter, and Kyle quickly feels guilt wracking through him. You didn’t like it? He could’ve sworn you always seemed happy- never uncomfortable. He quickly starts to move his arm off of your shoulders, but your words stop him. “You’re all nice and sweet to me but you don’t even have a crush on me.” You mutter. “It’s not fair. I barely get attention from anyone, and here you come thinking you can give me extra tight hugs and I won’t fall in love with you.” You ramble, clearly tipsy. “Isn’t that mean? Leaving me wanting to hold you and I don’t even get to.” You huff.

Now it’s his turn for his brain to short circuit. Christ in heaven, he had never met someone that could be so honest with their feelings. He wouldn’t put it past you to say something like that when you’re sober either. You had a knack for catching people off guard- and this was one of those times. He thinks for a moment, his own thought process slowed by the alcohol in his system. “What makes you think I don’t have a crush on you?” He asks softly.

You roll your eyes and take another sip of your drink. “Well I don’t know.” You mutter. “I saw a few magazines in your room one day.. sexy firefighters and all that. I’m not your type.” You say quietly. But before he can say anything, you start up again. “And I mean hey- I get it! Firefighters are hot. I’d want to fuck them too. They’re.. they’re really hot actually.” You mutter quietly, as if imagining it in your mind. “But- but you’re hot too!” You snap suddenly, sitting up and turning to look at him. “And it’s so mean that a hot guy flirts with a not hot guy- because like- I don’t know! I don’t know why it’s mean, it just feels mean.” You huff, and Gaz can see a hint of a pout on your lips. “I mean- I like it.. but don’t do it- because it makes me like you.”

The alcohol was definitely getting to you. And it was getting to him too. His pants grew tighter at the thought of you finding him hot. Of course he knew he was conventionally attractive- but he’d been told in the past he was too pretty. Too perfect. And he couldn’t help but wonder if you wouldn’t find him attractive either. “Hey- hey” he says with a small chuckle. “I keep those magazines more for- um.. body goals.” He admits sheepishly.

You blink at him owlishly as you look up at him. “Like.. for me?” You mutter with confusion, making him laugh.

“No, dumbass” he grins. “For me.”

You let out a breath of air, taking another sip of your drink. “Don’t you already look like that?” You asked softly.

And he had to admit. That made his ego inflate a good bit. He had been trying to achieve a perfect standard for his body- because he knew he was capable of it. But.. sometimes it didn’t feel the best. And it would eat away at him. Knowing you already saw him like that? It felt good. “Maybe a little.” He smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “And for the record?” He murmurs. “I do have a crush on you.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you quickly sip on your drink. “Oh.” You whisper faintly. “So.. why aren’t we dating?” You asked with genuine (drunken) curiosity.

His eyebrows raise slightly and huffs, letting out a weak laugh. “I didn’t think it was that easy.” He murmurs with a small smile.

You nod, shifting to sit back next to him once again, your head on his shoulder. “Want to stay in my room tonight?” You asked softly, the question light and innocent. His heart immediately sped up, and he nodded before placing a small kiss to the top of your head.

And that was how the two of you ended up in your room a few hours later. You had gotten changed into your comfiest pjs, an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants. You’d given Gaz a sweatshirt as well, even though it was a little big on him he loved it all the same. You’d given him your hello kitty sweatpants to wear, while you got to wear the Batman ones (he secretly wanted the hello kitty ones anyways).

You were both sitting facing each other on your bed, you closest to the head and him closer to the foot of the bed. It was honestly adorable to him how giggly you were, and he had no idea but he himself was pretty giggly too. The two of you had been cycling through your entire pile of stuffed animals, making him learn all of their names. Holding a little platypus, you looked at Gaz with a challenge in your eyes. “If you remember it you can hold him while we sleep” you smirk.

Gaz’s eyes quickly narrow as he looks at the brown, rounded plushie, racking his brain trying to remember. “Fucking hell.. I do want to hold that one.” He huffs. “Peanut?” He says hesitantly. And he knows it’s game over when your smirk widens.

“So close yet so far” you grin. “Walnut.”

He groans, letting himself flop onto the bed in defeat. When you start laughing he quickly pulls you down with him, making you squeal playfully as he starts to tickle you lightly. You laugh loudly against him as you try to push him off, eventually grabbing one of your biggest stuffed animals and wacking him with it, making him release a small ‘oof’.

When he gets up onto his knees again with a grin, he gently tosses your plushies onto the bed, yanking you into his arms. “You’re the only plushie I need” he murmurs as he holds you close.

You giggle sweetly, turning around in his arms so you’re sitting in between his legs, his chest to your back. You grab your phone and open your camera, grinning as widely as you can as you lift up your arm to take a picture of the two of you. He smiles at your antics, looking up at the camera and giving his dashing debonair smile. “What’s that for?” He asks after the fact, placing a small kiss to your shoulder as his arms wrap around your soft tummy.

You turn to kiss his cheek while his head rests on your shoulder with a soft smile. “You might wake up tomorrow and you won’t like me anymore” you say softly. “I want to remember this, you know? I’ve never had a guy let me tell him about my plushies. Or about how Walnut is my favorite.” You giggle softly.

He smiles at your laugh, but your words make his heart heavy. Were you truly so starved of affection that you were scared of losing it already? “This isn’t a one time thing, okay?” He says softly, pressing a light kiss to your neck. “I’m planning on keeping you around.” He murmurs. “Even if it’s just for Walnut.” He smirks, making you very gently bonk your head against his own.

“Meanie.” you giggle, making him grab you harder and pull you with him up to the head of the bed. “Kyle!” You laugh as he makes you get under the covers with him. “I wanted to watch a movie” you whine playfully.

He grins, holding you tightly against him as the little spoon so you can’t escape. “Nope. It’s bedtime. And I want cuddles.” He says against your ear. You huff, but reach out to grab Walnut, hugging him against your chest.

You playfully kick his leg before settling into his hold, and realizing how nice and warm he felt. “Fine. But.. only because I’m a little sleepy. Not because you told me you.” You mutter, and before you know it, you’re dozing off with Kyle’s arms around you and his face buried against your neck.

the logan fic will be up next ! if it takes longer than expected i’ll drop another mini writing like this one :) love you guys!!

p.s.

here is Walnut irl:

Y'all ever wanna pull an 'erm, akshually-' when reading a fanfic when you see something scienfically wrong or is it just me. I mean no disrespect whatsoever please I love you all you're amazing, but my mind just automatically goes 'well akshually 🤓👆 you can't survive that long bleeding out-' SHHHH BRAIN SHHHH

reblog if you wear glasses. too many mutuals don't know they have glasses wearers in their midsts