#... I swear I'm normal about him and only like him a small amount | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maeumi-jng · 1 year ago

Text

language of love

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader

synopsis: the language of love... so simple yet so profound. especially when you can't muster the courage to tell that special someone. or the subtle ways enha shows they like you.

warnings: fluff, skinship, swearing, mention of a nosebleed, unclear topic of insecurities about looks with riki, kinda cringe but everyone's so flirty (esp, hee, jay, and hoon 🤭), proof read-ish as usual

library: enhypen bookshelf

author's note: this was supposed to take one day but took four because i kept getting called into work shifts that i don't normally do 😭🤧 so i may or may not have gotten a bit lost on the way, bare with me please ♡︎

heeseung

heeseung is someone who likes to spend time with you, quality time if you will. but he's always in internal conflict about it. he loves being with you but when he's with you, he doesn't know how to act. you make him feel like jelly. as if he'd melt by being with you. and the amount of time he'd spend with you made the lines between friends and something more quite blurry.

but the time he likes to spent with you isn't on anything normal or something that occurs everyday like grocery shopping, having lunch together, or watching a movie with you. while of course, he enjoyed those things, heeseung like to make the smallest things that seemed insignificant and unimportant to life heart fluttering.

take for example, the one time you had decided to sit down at a bench in the park with your group of friends. heeseung was next to you when you found a newspaper that had been left behind with an unfinished crossword puzzle.

you weren't really a crossword puzzle type of person but you had a pen in your bag and you figured why not?

the puzzle was ocean themed which lost you even more. but you persevered only to become stuck on the very last word. it was across, intertwining with the 1st word, and seven letters long. the prompt? 'what is a community of organisms that live on or near a 'benthic zone'?'

yup. beyond you.

heeseung, who was talking to sunghoon, noticed your struggle by the pout of your lips, wondering eyes, occasional sighs and the tapping of your pen against your chin. a small smile crept onto his face when you turned to him and asked, "hee, i'm stuck. how do you do this? help me... please?"

who was he to deny such a cute request?

suddenly, he leaned towards you, taking your pen out of your hand. you blinked blankly at the close proximity between the two of you. you could feel the warmth radiate off of him. awkwardly, you rubbed the nape of your neck while heeseung glided the pen across the seven boxes. you couldn't tell what he was writing, eyes focused on the side of his face. he looked beautiful from the side too.

you chewed on your lip, watching him pull back and retract his hand. "you're done?" you asked, bewildered he had figured it out without searching it up.

heeseung hummed, eyes trailing over your face. "nope," he said, "i don't know the answer." he shrugged.

"huh?" you raised a brow, now peering over to the once empty row of squares. you're brows furrowed, trying to read the letters. but once you did, your eyes widened at the seven filled boxes.

URSOQT♡︎

"i–" you turned your head to heeseung to ask him what he meant as a wave of heat taking over your face. but he was already looking at you.

any voice you had had suddenly died down. you pressed your lips together, unable to form any words.

heeseung smiled softly, heart entirely overwhelmed by your reaction. he sighed, breathing in the fresh air before looking over to sunghoon. "don't you just love crosswords?"

sunghoon blinked. "what? hyung, i'm talking about basketball right now. crosswords? what are you on?"

heeseung pursed his lips, turning back to you. "i love crosswords."

see? crosswords... insignificant and not life changing. but ever since that day, you had never gone a second without your heart fluttering when you thought about it.

see? significant and life changing. 🤗

jongseong

jay hated having glasses.

or he hated having poor eyesight which made him have glasses.

whatever... it didn't matter. he just hated his glasses. they were a nuisance, always hurting the bridge of his nose and actually rendering him unable to see the face.

to make matters worse, riki and jake loved to tease him about how bad his eyesight actually was by trying them on. it was only a few seconds into wearing them that riki was complaining about sore eyes and the shock of his suddenly blurry vision had finally registered in jake's brain once he wore them. so jay avoided giving people his glasses to try on.

but when it came to you... it was hard to say no.

jay was in his local cafe, just reading his book, determined to get through it even though his brain was telling him to take an afternoon nap. also because he was meeting you soon and he was more determined to stay awake for that.

he had come early because he didn't want to keep you waiting, even for a second. but he had become so engrossed in his book, jay didn't even realise you had finally arrived.

"peekaboo. guess who? " suddenly, as jay was reading, your hands hovered over his glasses, covering his vision.

a smile automatically came to his face while jay rested his book down on the table. "is it the most prettiest girl in the universe?"

your eyes widened at his words, pulling your hands quickly back to you. your cheeks flushed while you cleared your throat, taking a seat next to him.

jay watched you try to dismiss his words but you didn't know what to say. and call it a bit odd, but jay loved it.

you blinked at his face, tilting your head, making jay raise a brow. suddenly it was his turn to be nervous when you leaned in and took his glasses gently off of his face. he could feel your hot breath from this close proximity. oh how he wished he could close in just a few more centimetres.

"can i try these on?" you queried.

jay slowly nodded, watching you first look through the lenses. you squinted at the wave of blurriness. "christ," you mumbled, trying to blink it away. "jay, you really can't see," you teased before gliding the frames onto your face.

jay needed to look away, taking anything as a distraction because he wasn't sure if he could handle seeing you wear his glasses.

you scrunched your nose at the heavy weight. you tapped jay's shoulder, trying to get his attention. "jay, look! i can't even see anything with these on."

jay internally cursed, slowly moving his head back to it's original position. he paused at the sight.

the thing was, jay already found you extremely adorable. there was just so much to like about you. the look on your face when you tried to be mad or when you needed to concentrate. or when you meet up and both realise you were wearing matching clothing. or whenever you saw stray kittens and puppies when it rained and you would sacrifice your umbrella just so they could have some shade and keep warm.

in the nicest way possible, you were terrible for his heart.

but watching you wear his glasses... it was so simple and stupid but it made his heart flip a million times more. you looked good in his things. a fact of the universe.

jay smiled softly, observing you take them off once your head started to throb.

"it's okay. they look better on you anyways," you told him, leaning in again to carefully put them back on his face.

jay's heart was now slamming against his chest. in his vision, he could see you use your index finger to nestle the glasses onto his nose bridge. "there," you said, "handsome as ever."

jay blinked, trying to calm his racing heart with subtle deep breaths.

he needed to confess... soon.

jaeyun

you know how quality time is a love language? well, it's a language that jake knows off by heart ever since he met you.

unlike heeseung, he wasn't entirely fixated on the small things. he liked doing the daily things with you like your morning hot chocolate run, going shopping with you, having a fixed lunch (date) everyday... it guaranteed him his daily dose of you and vice versa.

even if you were doing nothing, jake liked to hang out. just watching tiktoks on your phone or tv shows together, trying a new recipe you found, or even going on a picnic was enough for jake (and you).

take now for example. you were hanging out in the library for god's sake. you had an assignment to finish (mostly because you had pushed it so far that you had almost entirely forgotten it). despite you telling jake that it was literally going to take you hours because it took you thirty minutes to half-ass an introduction, he was all like, "it's fine. i have nothing to do any way."

like ??? what do you mean you have nothing to do? you could think of twenty things that were better than this. and that was just off the top of your head.

you'd like to think that you were getting a lot done, considering a few hours had passed and it seemed like there were a lot of words on your screen.

however, reality is not that kind.

instead, you had only written 600 words of your 2000 word essay and mostly focused on the fact that jake was spending him time... by staring at you.

"jake... i can't focus if you keep looking at me. i told you to go do something else more fun," you uttered, not peeling your eyes away from the screen.

"but this is fun. for your information, i find the fact that you find me more interesting than your essay really fun," jake smiled, leaning on his arm while he sat across you.

you blinked blankly at your screen. what were you writing again? "well now... now you're just twisting my words," you mumbled, feeling a wave of warmth scatter across the back of your neck.

suddenly a ding echoed from your phone making the both of you jump. you quickly ushered your phone to yourself, forgetting to silent your phone when you had entered. your eyes flickered over the notification and upon registering it, your face dropped.

jake raised a brow. "who is it?"

"it's my mum, shit i forgot," you sighed. "i have to go run errands for her. sorry, jake. at least you can find something fun to do now. see you!"

jake watched you quickly pack your stuff up, suddenly processing that you were leaving with out him.

you were just heading out of the library, standing up from your table when you felt a tug on your wrist. your eyes fell to your hand and then up to jake. you peered with a curious gaze.

"wait for me," jake told you, jacket half shrugged on. he sighed at your confused expression. "i'm coming with you, obviously."

"jake, seriously, it's fine," you laughed softly as he struggled to gather his things.

jake turned to you, sporting the uttermost serious expression you had ever seen on his face. "you don't get it... i cancel my other plans to spend time with you. sweetheart, there is literally nothing else i'd rather do than be with you."

oh.

your eyes widened. the endearment... the obviousness of it all...

you gave a small sigh, shaking your head slightly before letting a warm smile sprawl onto your face. "well come on then."

jake grinned, taking his bag off of the chair next to him. "this is gonna be great! especially because i haven't seen your mum in ages."

you raised a brow as you both walked together. "jake, you literally saw her three days ago."

"my point exactly."

sunghoon

to be honest, sunghoon doesn't necessarily exhibit the fact he likes you. because he doesn't really know how to. he preferred to keep his feelings at bay, more than content with being friends with you instead of ruining your relationship. and maybe... just maybe his feelings for you would go away.

but that preference was short lived when sunghoon realised he couldn't really control himself around you any longer. he'd find himself caring about all the small things.

every time he talked to you and he caught your smile when you were happily talking about the things you loved, sunghoon had to force himself to turn his head away and hide his own smile.

one time you hit your nose and dramatically made a big deal about it. it was amusing until sunghoon actually saw blood and the panic cross your eyes. now sunghoon naturally covered all the sharp and blunt corners and objects that you could possibly hurt yourself with when you were both walking together while making sure you walked on the inside of the road rather than near the cars or poles.

his friends even noticed. especially when he'd laugh at a tiktok you were showing him but they showed the exact one to him days before and sunghoon didn't even utter a word.

in summary: sunghoon liked you way too much.

and it was getting harder to contain his feelings.

"sunghoon-ah?" you called out, looking at your phone.

sunghoon, who was laying next to you on a picnic blanket, discreetly looking at you the entire time and revelling in the idyllic nature, hummed in response.

"what do you think about this guy for me?"

sunghoon squinted as you showed him your phone. a small huff of amusement fell from his lips. "why? does he have a crush on you or something?" he joked, briefly glancing at the phone, not even hiding his uninterest.

you rolled your eyes, taking your phone back. leave it up to sunghoon to take things so half-heartedly. "no... it's just that my friend is trying to set me up with someone–"

suddenly the phone was taken out of your hands. now fully attentive, sunghoon eyed the photo on your phone. he furrowed his brows, making you question him. "sunghoon?"

he sucked his teeth and tilted his head, pondering. "but don't i look better than this guy?"

you blinked rapidly, at a lost for words. sunghoon wasn't ever this straightforward with you. nor did he flirt subtly. in all the time you had known him, you had known him to be a sweet and caring person underneath all that evasiveness (all of which you'd come to really like, not that you'd ever tell him). but he'd never voice these things to you...

you broke out into a small smile with a quiet hum. "i guess you are better looking," you shrugged with feigned nonchalance, averting your eyes to anywhere else in the park.

sunghoon looked at your flushed state and smiled to himself. he nodded, mostly to himself, as he returned your phone. "yeah," he agreed with red ears, "i'm a lot better looking."

seonwoo

when seonwoo realised he liked you, at first he did nothing about it. what was he even going to do? tell you? ha! what a joke!

but after encountering several other people asking him for your number or socials, seonwoo realised he needed to up his game. make it more obvious. like really obvious.

so the first thing he did? he confessed.

you being you, you thought he was playing a joke on you. because why on earth would the kim seonwoo like you? this was the real world not la-la-la land.

seonwoo could barely register that fact that you thought he was joking. so he made it his mission to bring it up as often as he could. but not so much that you'd get fed up.

like you had just begun watching a drama that had finished a few weeks ago and seonwoo had decided to join you. you were so obsessed with it that you kept bringing it up when you could. one day, you were telling him about a part you saw when he briefly fell asleep and he says casually, “i know.”

and you’re like ??? “seonwoo, you fell asleep. what do you mean you know?”

he’d look at you and say, “i already watched all of it.”

you blinked blankly. “i– w-what? then why would you watch it again? isn’t that like a waste of time?”

“because you wanted to and because i like you. do i need any other reason?”

ohhhhhh

or on any random day, seonwoo would walk into your room and smile widely while holding up two matching items. "look what i got!”

you’d look up and press your lips together. “more matching keychains? not that i'm complaining but seonwoo.. i have like twenty of these because of you. the whole point of keychains is to actually use them not swap them out every other day.”

seonwoo would pout. “b-but each one shows how much i like you.”

you blankly look at him before slamming your head into your pillows, hiding your flushed cheeks. "ugh, seonwoo, why are you like this?" you grumbled, fighting between the urge to cringe or crumble.

seonwoo would be attaching the new keychains he brought to your already packed bag. "because i'm amazing," he'd say, "and because i like you."

your last straw was picked when you were trying to do something a simple as show him a video you found on your phone during your absentminded scrolling. "seonwoo, watch this."

seonwoo leaned in next to you, eyes momentarily on the phone before resting on you for most of the video.

you were grinning at the video of cute puppies before realising seonwoo was looking at you instead. "i– are you watching?" you queried, suddenly feeling self conscious all of a sudden

"hmm?" seonwoo blinked, moving his eyes back to the screen. "oh... yeah."

"seonwoo," you whined. "you need to stop that."

"stop what? looking at you. but that's like normal," seonwoo raised a brow.

"no, stop looking at me like that."

"like what?" seonwoo egged on. "like my entire world is in front of me?"

you sucked in a sharp breath, giving him a pointed look.

seonwoo held your gaze, responding earnestly. "does it make you feel uncomfortable? if it does... i'll stop. it'll be hard but i'll do it."

you chewed your bottom lip, spotting the dismay in his boba eyes. "no. it's okay. i like it."

a surge of relief wavered throughout you when a wide smile appeared back onto his face. "good," sunoo beamed, "i'm glad."

jungwon

jungwon was as direct as some get. if he had something to say, he'd say it. this persona, however, did not apply to two things: when someone asked him if he liked the food he was eating when he didn't or when it came to you.

jungwon didn't really know how it happened but he seemed to lose all senses and all the ability to speak when he was around you. that's when he realised he liked you.

every time you were with each other, a majority of it was in this comforting silence with the occasional side conversation. but if you minded, you didn't say anything. you seemed to enjoy the peace that always stemmed when you two were together.

that was one of those things that made jungwon find it difficult to communicate his feelings with you. with every passing day, he'd return home with something else he liked about you.

one day you were hanging out with your friend group. the sun was setting, it was warm out despite the slight breeze. jungwon was talking to his friend on his right when he realised he hadn't heard your voice in a while. he turned to you, only to find you resting your eyes, absorbing the peaceful atmosphere while your hair danced with the wind. that day, jungwon went home realising he really liked seeing you at peace.

another day, jungwon found out that you were really good at remembering the small things and how attached you got to them. he was in your room for the first time and you went to grab some water. his eyes skimmed the room, stopping on the shelf that was littered with some of the most random items: old movie tickets, beads, coins, and even a heart-shaped pebble.

you came back into the room, settling the cups of water down on your desk. "what are you looking at? ah, you found the shelf."

jungwon curiously turned to you, eyes still stuck on the shelf. "what is all of this?" his voice barely above a whisper.

"memories," you murmured softly. you walked next to him, gingerly picking the pebble off of the wood and showed it to jungwon. "you don't remember this one?"

jungwon raised a brow, trying to scavenge his brain for this pebble. after a lot of nothingness, it struck him! "oh my god, this is not the same rock we saw at beach last year, is it?" you had both found it hiding in the sand after you trailed away from the others.

"ding ding! a point for yang jungwon!" you confirmed, a small smile teetering on your face.

jungwon looked at you wordlessly. he didn't know what to say. if he thought about it, a lot of that shelf had him on it. the movie tickets, the coins he found on the road, the teddy bear he brought you for your birthday... you had kept everything.

after that day, jungwon knew he needed to make things a tad bit more obvious. at least in his perspective. so he showed you in a way that didn't have him talking too much: acts of service.

jungwon knew you ordered your coffee every morning so he'd bring it with him every time you met. he always kept a hoodie for you because you always got cold easily. always call you when you were on the bus or getting a ride to make sure you reached home safely. opening stubborn packs of food when you couldn't. always having medicine on hand when you felt unwell.

jungwon would basically drop everything for you. and he'd think he was doing it sooo discreetly but you noticed, embarrassing him when you pointed it out.

"you're just so thoughtful, so i wanted to show you that i also think about you too.. like a lot."

(future) boyfriend goals indeed. 🤭

riki

similar to seonwoo, in an strange way, riki was direct. strange because this only occurred when he had a point to prove. call it what you want... youth or the journey of maturity, but if he wanted to let you know something, he'd say it. in summary: for you, an attention seek.

while riki was competitive, he never really competed with a person one-on-one. it was rather a battle of what he could do rather than him by himself. like he'd rather find out he's better by acing them in a basketball match or something.

yet, when both of you were hanging out with your friends in a pet cafe to relieve some stress, riki found himself competing with the worker who had been staring at you ever since you took a step into the place.

how was riki going to resolve this you ask? (or win, in this case?)

by trying to get as many pets around him as he could. see, riki knew you cherished animals. any time you were near one, you'd always have to stop to look, talk, and ensure they were safe. riki found it endearing. so if all the animals in the cafe loved him and not the the guy who literally works there, then not only has he won over the animals and the worker, but most importantly, he's won your heart (vicariously through animals, of course).

the only problem? as mentioned, the guy worked there. and while the one shiba inu in the cafe seemed to adore riki, the rest were in the hands of the freaking worker! and right beside him was you.

riki whisper-yelled your name, capturing your attention. "look at this!"

you turned to find the same young shiba inu, the one you had been fawning over the moment you saw him, sleeping in riki's lap. your eyes softened at the sight of them together. cuteness with cuteness... just your luck. you reached for the phone in the pocket of your jacket.

riki paused briefly, realising you had snapped a sneaky photo of him and the puppy. discreetly, his eyes took a moment to savour the awkward realisation on the worker's face. a small smug grin made it's way onto his face. he was on your camera roll. he won.

but this type of stuff was tame in comparison to what riki pulled the other day.

you were at his house, waiting for him to get ready so you could watch a new movie in the cinema. riki was hopping out, trying to put his sock on when he saw you intently staring at your phone.

a sudden flick to your forehead got your attention.

"ow!" you exclaimed, rubbing your head. "riki, what the hell?"

riki bit back his smile when he saw you pout. "what are you looking at so much that you can't look at me?"

you rolled your eyes, removing your hand from your forehead. "first of all, you're the one taking forever. second of all... it's not really anything, it's just a pretty person. see? don't you think they're like really pretty?" you sucked in a sharp breath, waiting for an answer.

riki furrowed his brows, trying to put his shoes on at the door as you showed him your screen. he eyed the photo before looking back up at you and back at the phone. "you're prettier," he said nonchalantly.

you blinked blankly, slowly raising your phone back to your chest. you were suddenly desperately fighting a wave of fluster from drowning you. you pressed your lips, letting a small huff of amusement slip past your lips. "i don't think that's what other people would say."

riki finished tying his shoelaces, standing up straight. he sighed, taking the phone out of your hands, closing it and putting it into the pocket of your hoodies as he stepped closer to you. his hands moved to hold your cheeks while his brown eyes held yours intently. "it doesn't matter what they think. i think you're prettier. that's all that matters."

your mouth fell open, cheeks warm at his sudden touch. it was as if all the words you had ever learned or read had flown right from your brain and dispersed into the air.

removing his hands from your face, riki grasped your hand tightly. "now come on! we're really going to be late if you keep standing like a gaping fish!"

#maeumi-jng #maeumi jng’s library — enhypen bookshelf ♡︎#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #jungwon x reader #enhypen reactions #heeseung x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #jay x reader #riki x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcannons

681 notes · View notes

uramakimochi · 2 years ago

Text

YOU'RE OKAY

Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: comfort fic + fluff, short story written in a hurry so sorry if it's bad lol, gender is not specified here but i always write thinking about a fem!R. I was this close🤏 to crying when i saw his crash istg i was so sad and worried and i felt so bad for him, my baby doesn't deserves this just let him win a race😭🧡

Translated english because it's not my first language so feel free to correct me.

///

You were sitting in the corridor waiting impatiently, when suddenly, after what seemed like an infinite amount of time, you saw him come out of the door of his hospital room. The fact that he stood on his own was already a miracle for you.

You quickly stood up and Lando's eyes fell on your figure just in time for you to throw yourself against his body, hugging him as if you hadn't seen him in forever.

Lando glanced at his father, who had accompanied you to the hospital, then waited together for news of Lando. Adam smiled at him, happy to see that his son was well and after quickly patting his shoulder, he saw him walking to Jon, who had gone with Lando, to the doctor who had taken care of him, to understand what had happened to him.

Lando felt a weight lift from his heart when he finally returned the hug, closing his arms around your body and resting a hand on your head.

"Hey..." he sighed.

Lando felt your arms tighten their grip around his waist, as if you were afraid he might leave at any moment. And he understood your feelings perfectly.

For him, who had been practicing that sport for a few years, it had now become practically normal to deal with accidents on the track. But for you, having to watch his races every time, without knowing if he would crash, was a constant anxiety. And it didn't matter how good Lando or the other drivers were, it could happen to anyone, even the best. Just like it had happened that night.

Lando closed his eyes, lowering his face to your head and leaving a couple of kisses. At that moment he didn't care if any fans or journalists had seen you. He was so relieved to be in your arms, as you were in his.

“I'm so glad you're okay” you murmured, your voice muffled by the oversized McLaren sweatshirt Lando was wearing at the moment, probably lent to him by Jon. "I swear, i was scared to death, i really feared the worst"

You finally lifted your head to look at him and Lando could see your tear filled eyes more clearly. You weren't crying, but the reddish color that decorated them made him realize that you had already done so before even coming to the hospital.

And that was exactly what had happened, from the first second you witnessed his accident. You didn't know what to say and in the McLaren garage there wasn't even the sound of a fly flying. The only one who was speaking at that moment was one of the team who had just asked Lando if he was okay. And you, with your eyes fixed on the screen that showed Lando sitting still in his car, felt your heart start to beat faster when you didn't hear him respond. Only after the second "Lando are you okay?" you finally heard his voice say a shaky “Yeah, all good” followed by a couple of pained moans.

“I was so worried, we were all worried about you, Lando” you continued and Lando looked at you with a little tender smile.

A small tear escaped from one of your eyes and he gently ran his thumb under it, wiping it away.

"You're okay now, right?" you asked him then, reaching a hand towards his face to caress the curls that fell on his forehead.

Lando took your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your fingers.

"I'm better now, i just took a blow, don't worry. I'm just tired" he murmured and you nodded understandingly.

"Lando..." you said then, looking at him with a slightly pitying look. "I'm so sorry for what happened"

Lando shrugged.

“I didn't expect to end up in the hospital as a birthday gift from this GP” he retorted with a small pained laugh and you reciprocated with a bitter smile.

Already in qualifying he and Oscar had not placed high and just when you were convinced that Lando would be able to climb to the top positions like he had done in Mexico, his chance had gone up in smoke. And it was also his birthday week, it wasn't fair.

With your other hand you gently caressed his cheek with your thumb.

“It's not your fault. I'm sure you would have had a great race” you tried to reassure him, because you knew he tended to be too hard on himself. "But the only thing that matters is that you are fine now and that is enough for me"

Lando leaned his face forward to give you a small kiss on the lips, until you then turned his face to give him a series of more kisses on the cheek and he closed his eyes relaxed.

After a few seconds, Jon and Adam returned to you.

"Shall we get out of here?" the former asked and both you and Lando nodded.

He and Adam exchanged a hug under the tender gaze of you and Jon, until Lando came next to you, reaching out his hand towards yours and intertwining your fingers. You and him looked at each other, exchanging a smile and then leaving the hospital together, just looking forward to going home and forgetting what happened.

///

look at my baby with the McLaren sweatshirt bigger than him i love him sm😭

559 notes · View notes

littlemissstel · 8 months ago

Text

Troublemaker- Shiu Kong

What is Shiu to do when he gets a call from his daughter asking to be picked up? But he thought she was at home...

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You and Shiu loved your kids. You did. However you had never known any others to be quite as monstrous as they were. Everyone said that they would eventually grow out of their mischievous ways, however after your eldest entered her teen years the untamable spirit she retained only grew and you came to believe they were just your karma personified. Your first was sneaky, the second was loud and hyperactive - causing a mess wherever he went- and your third...well you were lucky if she even gave you the time of day, rolling her eyes, she tended to use her face to express more than she did her words and was ever so cunning.

You tried to keep up but the weekends offered no respite as the chaos you normally got to hide from six hours a day continued at an unrelenting pace and left you as nothing but a mindless ghoul at the end of it as you collapsed into your bed.

Shiu would normally be right behind you in doing this, but tonight he managed to exert the last of his energy into tidying the remaining miscellaneous items that littered the dinning table before settling limply on the sofa, eyes closed and head tossed back. The idea was to secretly finish the remaining episode of a series you both binged, however the low rumble of your sons gaming console acted as white noise that tempted him into a deep sleep, the darkness becoming a blanket over him as he sunk further and further into the cloud cushions.

All was well. All was calm.

Was. The sound of his phone ringing pierced through the once so soothing atmosphere and he sprung up, reaching for his phone with such urgency he worried about throwing his back out. He waited a second, eyes adjusting to the brightness before recognising the name on the screen. His eldest daughter. Now was the time to sigh. The most she could want was a glass of water and a pack of sweets and he inwardly teased himself for acting so exaggerated.

"Hi, honey" he says though he was not welcomed with the same greeting. Instead a cacophony of unintelligible sounds blurred in his ear, forcing him to move back in both pain and confusion.

Well that certainly wasn't coming from here. The house was silent, the sound of a pin dropping could count as a disturbance, so what on earth was going on?

"Honey? Are you there?"

"Yeah" her uncharacteristically small voice calls out, and he can't help but notice the way it shakes. Sitting up and leaning forward, elbows on knees he gives her his full attention, acting as if she were sat in front of him.

"What's going on? You're not home are you?"

"No--and I'm so sorry", She breaks fully, "Can you please pick me up? I swear it's not that far a-"

"Send me your location. Are you hurt?"

"No..."

"Okay."

And the line continues without another word spoken. Though Shiu's mind was far from peaceful. The moment she had sent where she was he stepped on the peddle driving an inexcusable amount over the speed limit which was prompted by his sweet girls muffled cries.

The address seemed to be a house, at least she was in a residential area but what was she doing there? Who had she gone to see? Most importantly how did he not notice? A detective all those years and yet he couldn't figure out when his own daughter was in trouble. No, he couldn't figure out why she snuck out. He had tried his very best to give his children the freedom they deserved and he'd much rather know about their mistakes than have them make it alone. It's not like he ever denied them of going out and having fun without rational reasoning and they knew that- so why was he driving to an unknown location at 2 am to pick up his weeping daughter?

Unlike his previous experiences, the adrenaline spike he felt was anything but pleasant and his blood rushed with anxiety. Eventually he neared the location looking around hastily for any sign of his daughter.

"Where are you? Can you see me?"

And suddenly a figure emerged out of the dark from one of the porches, alerting a sensory light to come on where he saw his daughter in a state he would wish to erase. Stepping out of the car meeting her will-less body halfway he engulfed her into his arms, one wrapped securely around her head as he pressed a soft kiss into her hair. He was sure they were hugging for different reasons, him in deep relief that she was safe and hers for reasons unknown but it didn't matter now as she looked up, tearful, mascara smudged eyes meeting his and he felt his heart break once more. Quickly taking off the jumper he wore, he opened it ready for her to put on, she wore a lacey top and a skirt two inches too short - both of which he had never seen before- but perhaps now wasn't the time to bring it up, it was a wonder she didn't catch hypothermia before he arrived in the first place.

"I'm so sorry"

"It's alright" he assures, guiding her to the car, "Let's get home before you freeze."

The night continues with the two of them in the car silently, Shiu driving much slower than before as he cautiously looks at his daughter through the mirror. He wasn't quite sure what to do, if this would be the time were he says something to try and put her at ease, maybe berate her for doing something so careless. He wasn't quite sure he'd be speaking to the same daughter he was used to, never had he been warned about this kind of situation before when people teased him about having such a fiery child but right now it seemed that fire had been extinguished completely and he yearned for the slightest sight of a flame.

"Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?" Shiu repeated inwardly but it wasn't a question. He felt himself slip the moment she was born and now he grovelled in the helplessness as she grew.

He had been relying on muscle memory throughout the car ride as he thoughtlessly pulled into the driveway slowly and lowering the lights so as to not alert anyone inside. Ah...What was he to tell you? He would tell you, of course ,but now? Would you be mad if he waited until the morning, would your girl still be in such a sorry state when she woke up? A thousand more worries came up in Shiu's mind and what could soothe them?

"Thank you, Dad" The girl spoke out cautiously, already looking at him as he turned and he couldn't help but view her ten years younger.

Still at a loss he repeated the same phrase, "It's alright, Love." and gave a squeeze to her hand to which she gave a slight smile.

He sighed.

"I will have to tell your mum..."

The girl looked down and away.

"I know..."

"You know we aren't evil..."

"I know...but can we talk about it in the morning? please?"

"Okay."

And Shiu hoped that somehow, through the exchange and his eyes, she knew that he would always be there for her.

Catch the arcane ref? I'm so happy with how this turned out!!!

Please feel free to leave any recs/ideas x

94 notes · View notes

theragethatisdesire · 1 year ago

Text

quick bright things - eren jaeger x afab!reader, 18+!!

okay hi. after my many-months writing hiatus, i am offering up this humble creation. welcome to the world of quick bright things, caught somewhere between a fairytale and a shakespeare play and a priceless piece of jewelry. this was inspired by....a lot of things, from midsummer night's dream to saltburn to the secret history to romeo & juliet like, you name it and i've probably crammed it in here. eren is a lot different than i normally write him (or read him, for that matter), i hope you all find him as lovely as i do! this will be 2 parts (for now...), i'm not sure what else to say except i'm happy to be back and i hope you all love part 1 ₊˚⊹♡

pairing: eren jaeger x reader

wc: 10.4k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

cws: alcohol, swearing, smut, fingering, reader has female anatomy, wet dreams, allusions to cannibalism (idk that's a stretch it's more of a metaphor), exhibitionism, cum-eating, creepy stepsiblings, rich assholes, throat-closing amounts of sexual tension, i honestly don't even know what to put here

without further ado...

"Last year I abstained / this year I devour / without guilt / which is also an art."

“Now don’t forget: university is for discovery, for adventure.” Your mother tucks the front of your shirt into your skirt, tugs at your collar until it’s sitting prettily against the cliff of your collarbones. It’s not a good fabric, this shirt; it’s cheap and scratches uncomfortably at the summer sunburn still lingering on your chest. “It’s for finding your passions, your life path, yourself…”

“Darling, you’ve been philosophizing since breakfast. You’re going to give the poor girl a conniption.” Your father chuckles lightly, swinging the hammer at the wall of your dormitory and finishing the hanging of one of your many posters over your creaky, lofted bed. The posters are bright and colorful, almost garish in the pristine, ancient light pouring in from the windows. With a slow blink, you realize you’re going to take them down later, that they feel incongruous with the dust particles and the oak furniture.

“It’s alright, really.” You manage a smile of compromise, lips clamped tight to hold the flutter of nerves in your throat at bay. “I think I’ve got it from here.”

There’s an expectedly teary goodbye, a small monologue from your father about how much you’ve grown, and a few reminders from your mother to separate the darks and the lights when you do laundry, to focus on your studies. Just before she slips out behind her husband, she grabs you by the shoulders and presses her lips to the side of your head, kisses a blood-red print into the shell of your ear.

“Don’t forget. Find something.”

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Whether it started with that conversation or with the buildup that accompanied the thirty-six months of monotonous paper-writing and numb boredom of your first three years at Oxford, you can’t be sure. In truth, maybe your first three years weren’t all that boring, and they only seem so by comparison of everything that came after, but you can’t be entirely sure of that either.

What you can be sure of is that something down the line—between meeting Sasha in that class on Milton and squeezing her hand as the plane landed and the dozens of bottles of champagne you’ve consumed over the last weeks—something led you to this moment, standing in this kitchen somewhere outside Verona with your bare feet against the hot clay tiles, staring at the sharp angle of an unfamiliar, tanned collarbone.

He’s coated in linen: a half-unbuttoned, burnt-orange drape of a shirt is rolled carefully up around strong forearms, and one large, boyish foot peeks out from his baggy jeans, propped up on its throne upon the opposite knee. A golden cross winks at you from his chest, nestled in the sparsest dusting of chest hair and dripping with the same peach juice that’s sliding down his Adam’s apple, from his strong chin, from the crooked smirk that’s pointed at you like a knife.

You recognize him before he speaks– this must be Eren. Sasha’s mentioned him enough times: the shock of rich, dark hair, the lakewater eyes, the way he leans back in his chair like a king and cocks his head like a trickster. This is Eren, and you tell him so.

“Guilty.” The sun compliments everything about him but his smile, a little too sharp with too much danger behind it. It’s a smile made for moonlight. “And you are?”

A memory surfaces in your mind, a cautionary childhood tale. “You can never let a fairy know your name,” Emma tells you, graver than death, crouched in the bushes beside you, “or they steal you away, and you can never be human again.”

“Well?” Eren says expectantly, head leaning even further to the left. He’s studying you, the baggy linen pants pooling around your toes and ruby-studded ears poking out of a fray of frazzled bedhead. You feel naked, feel a wild urge come over you and wonder how his eyes would glow at you if you were. You shiver, goosebumps raising in the stuffy summer air. When his lips twitch, you realize Eren’s noticed; you feel feverish.

You mumble your name at him, as if it’s something given unwillingly. Waking the espresso machine seems like the right thing to do with your hands, and you’re grateful for the noisy mechanical sounds it provides to shatter the still morning. You bring an absentminded hand to rub over the tip of your ear, feel if it’s grown to a point yet.

“We haven’t met, have we? I feel like if we had, I’d remember.”

God, you wish he’d stop talking.

“Well, do you go to Oxford?”

“Sometimes.” You roll your eyes, and he laughs, little bells and glass shattering. “I’ve been abroad for the last semester. I flew in from Egypt a couple of weeks ago.”

“Hm,” you hum to yourself, choosing a small red cup for your morning coffee. You aren’t sure what to say; the most exotic place you’ve ever visited was a seaside town three hours from your house.

You can hear his newspaper crinkling; the sound of him putting it down betrays his arrival behind you, but you still don’t expect the puff of warm breath over your shoulder. He comes into your space like he belongs there, like there’s never been a door that wasn’t held open for him to stride through. “Are you still asleep?”

Before you can answer, you hear a shriek from down the hallway, and you breathe a little sigh of relief, thanking whatever ancient gods that belong to the hills you’re in for the interruption. Venus springs to mind, and you swat her and her entourage of Graces away from you with a huff.

“You absolute asshole!” Historia comes barreling into the kitchen, dramatic, fluffy dressing robe spilling out into the unrelenting summer heat behind her. You realize that in the three weeks you’ve spent with her, you haven’t once seen her in the actual kitchen, watching the way the breakfast chef’s eyes widen at the sight of her as he hurries by with an armful of eggs.

“Stori!” Eren elegantly catches her best attempt at a tackle with the good grace you assume he does everything with, breaking out into a warm peal of laughter. “Since when do you not love a surprise?”

“Since always.” Historia’s face is scrunched up where she’s buried it into the crook of his neck, forehead red with the effort of squeezing Eren as hard as she can. “You could have at least called, I mean– ugh, I didn’t even get the chance to get your favorite–”

“Relax.” Eren urges her, rubbing soothing circles into the small of her back. He carries them both over to his seat, plopping down and curling her up in his lap like a child. Eren holds his cup of coffee to her lips temptingly, and Historia shoves it away with another scowl. You hide your giggle at her antics behind your espresso, not wanting to remind them of your presence, but enjoying the show all the same. “Brat.”

“Ow,” Historia hisses when he pinches her thigh, expression lightening when she catches sight of something on the wall. “I always forget how pretty the kitchen is here.”

“Where’s your brother?”

“Still getting dressed.” Historia’s blue eyes turn to the frescoed ceiling with an irritated huff. “You know he can’t stand to be seen in his pajamas.”

“That’s because he doesn’t wear any,” Eren remarks with an eye roll of his own. “You could have called to let me know we’d adopted such a pretty houseguest for the summer.”

Your face burns with acknowledgement, and you can feel your toes curling into the clay bricks of the floor hard enough to scrape the tip of your pinky. Eren seems satisfied at your bewilderment, letting his eyes drag over your hardly-covered chest lazy as a wandering mouth.

“Why would anyone wear pajamas under those heavy duvets? It’s almost thirty-two degrees out.” Armin breezes in in a feigned display of nonchalance, but you can see the way his eyes skim over Eren like a ship narrowly avoiding an iceberg. The Titanic was inevitable, and so is the gravity of Eren sitting golden on the other side of the room.

“You look good, Min.” Eren squints his eyes at Armin’s shirt, nearly identical to his own. “Where’d you get that?”

“You left it last summer,” Historia hums, tucking her head under Eren’s chin and nuzzling into his chest more completely. Armin makes a soft snort of irritation, grabbing for a fig in the bowl of fruit on the counter and beginning to rummage through the cabinet drawers.

“Do you want half a fig?” Armin’s cool gaze slides to you, and you shake your head, feeling a little underwater as two lifelong relationships unfurl in front of you, your mind still fuzzy from last night’s wine. “Historia?”

Historia says no as Eren says yes, and Armin makes his sound of annoyance again before continuing his rummaging, muttering about the inconvenience of finding a knife.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Sasha, still disheveled with sleep and grinning bright as Christmas morning, pops her head around the doorway. “Shouldn’t you be overseeing the construction of your pyramid?”

“I’m not dead, Sasha,” Eren laughs—it really is distracting when he does that—pulling Sasha onto his other knee, ignoring Historia’s grumbles of discontent. The NYU Men’s Lacrosse t-shirt that Sasha cropped too short rides up, exposing the swell of her breast, but no one acknowledges it. Eren’s hand tucks in snugly around the curve of her hip, easy and natural, and you wonder if his fingers have ever itched to travel up under the hem of her tiny sleep shorts.

“Not dead yet.” Historia glares up at him venomously, reluctantly making room for Sasha to pile onto Eren and smother his face with kisses. Sasha pulls away from him suddenly and frowns.

“Peaches?”

“Where are the knives in this fucking kitchen?” Armin’s growl of frustration is loud enough to make you jump, and Sasha giggles at you.

“Jesus, Armin, you’re going to kill her, and it’s not even noon.” Sasha slips off of Eren’s knee, practically bouncing over to where Armin’s viciously jiggling a locked drawer. She slides open the drawer next to him and draws a long, wide knife from it, passing it to him with the blade extended and her eyes on you. “Did you meet Eren?”

“Careful of his hand!” Historia squeals, shooting an arm out towards Armin as if she can deflect the tip of the blade from across the room.

“It’s fine, Stor.” Armin’s voice floats across his nearly-bare shoulder, mild and careless as it grazes the collar of the too-big button down sliding off of his slim frame.

“That knife’s a little big for a fig, Sasha.” Eren stands, placing Historia on the table and pinching her cheek when she scowls at him.

“There’s no such thing as a too-big knife– listen to me. Did you meet Eren?” Sasha’s fingers are gripping into the flesh of your arm– hard. Your eyes widen in surprise at the urgency in her eyes, like if you haven’t been introduced to Eren, there’s grave danger afoot.

“We met.” It happens quickly and easily, the slide of his heavy arm around your shoulders. You can feel your body tense under the lazy weight of him, big hand wrapped around you like it belongs there. “I don’t think she’s particularly fond of me.”

Eren shoots you a wink that you’re sure is intended to mean something, a reference to an inside joke that you have yet to establish, maybe.

“I didn’t say that,” you say in your own defense, wanting to yank Sasha to the side and demand to know why she hadn’t warned you that Cupid himself was going to greet you in the kitchen this morning. Armin slices the fig neatly in half, a strangely practiced motion performed by small, soft hands. He offers it to you again insistently, and frowns when you shake your head.

“I said I wanted it, ‘Min,” Eren says with a hint of red to his words, snatching the halved fig from Armin’s hand and biting into it voraciously, little pieces of the flesh spattered around the corner of his mouth.

“You’re such a brute,” Armin scoffs, picking the meat of his half out gingerly with an oyster fork that you don’t remember him grabbing from the drawer.

“Why don’t you like Eren?” Sasha pouts at you, grabbing the hand that’s squashed between yours and Eren’s hips. Your palm feels hot against her fingers.

“I said I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t say much of anything, to be fair.” Eren’s got the fig pressed to his mouth, digging his teeth and tongue around in the husk of it obscenely enough to make your cheeks warm. Being so close to him is filthy, that cross around his neck is looking you straight in the eye to make sure you feel it.

“Eren’s always a pest,” Historia provides from her perch on the kitchen table, picking at her perfectly manicured toenails, “why would she like him?”

“You like him plenty,” Armin says, not looking at her. It’s not the first time that’s been brought up, if Historia’s answering sneer is anything to go by.

“You’ll love him if you give him a chance.” Sasha smiles hopefully at you, nodding.

“Yeah,” Eren grins down at you, teeth colored with fig, “give me a chance.”

“Eren, you’re going to scare her off,” Armin says with a roll of his eyes, peering around Eren’s broad shoulders to look you up and down. The way his eyes drag over you makes you feel like there might be a stab wound somewhere on your person that you don’t know about yet, the adrenaline of the moment keeping you numb.

“Back off her, Eren,” Historia echoes, “she’s fun, I don’t want you to make her leave.”

“She’s not going to leave.” Eren looks directly at you as he says it, something in his smile growing imperceptibly darker. A dare. How much will you let me get away with?

You stare and stare at him, ignoring the continued bickering of Armin and Historia in the background. He’s golden and blood-red, oil smeared on his forehead and a crown of thorns nestled in his dark thatch of hair if you look close enough. If you’re not imagining it, his hand might be tightening around your shoulder, maybe he’ll leave a purple bruise on it.

“Of course not,” Sasha interrupts your thoughts, thumbing at your cheek affectionately, “she belongs here. With us.”

“She’s our little fairy,” Historia giggles dreamily, referencing the long-winded fairy tales you drunkenly make up every night, casting each other as heroines and knights and dragons.

“Right,” Eren agrees, not breaking your gaze, “our little fairy.”

The only thing that comes to mind is your childhood friend, Emma, looking on at you sadly with her muddy toes, watching the wings sprout from your back.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Days lug themselves by, barefooted and dragging their heels, and most of the time, even the monotonous rise and fall of the sun doesn’t help to differentiate one calendar block from the next. Like a bat, or maybe a slinky, silvery fish in an underwater cave, you rely on your other senses to track the passage of time.

For example, today, you know it’s a Wednesday because Maria, one of the three house chefs, brings fresh peaches up from the co-op down the hill every Wednesday. Sasha’s spent the last thirty minutes hand feeding you peach flesh as you lounge by the pool, insisting that you suck her fingers clean of juice and feeding you little sips of champagne each time you sober up enough to tell her that that’s lewd. Historia swats at you and giggles at the smacking and slurping sounds you make around Sasha’s fingers, oiled-up palm landing on oiled-up hip with a wet slap; Armin admonishes her quietly from his seat beside her, insisting the girlish noises emanating from the three of you are tearing him from his book. You can feel Eren watching, too– that’s all, though. Always just watching.

You wonder how opaque the lenses of Armin’s sunglasses are, perched haphazardly on your nose, wonder if they’re doing a good job of masking the slow lick of your gaze over Eren’s skin, wonder if you care. Maybe the champagne is finally getting to your head.

“We should go in soon,” Historia sighs, a hand tossed across her forehead. She’s a little movie star, built for the golden age. “It’s so hot.”

“It’s always this hot,” Sasha argues, and you can practically hear the furrow in her brow, not willing to take your eyes off of the trickle of sweat running down Eren’s chest to see it for yourself. You’re really getting the hang of it, this opposite-sense thing. Everything’s upside down here in the heat.

“She’s getting hungry,” Armin supplies, wiping the sweat off his palms to reach up and turn the page of his novel. Brideshead Revisited. A little on the nose, isn’t it?

“I am not!” Historia hates when people point out her appetite, but not really. She kicks up a fuss because it’s “ladylike”, and she’s advised you to do the same.

“You are,” you sigh, really feeling the heat sink into you even with the heavy, lazy movement of lolling your head to face her, “you always get hungry around this time.”

“What time is it, then?”

You don’t reply– you don’t know the answer.

“I think we’re all hungry,” Eren, ever the peacemaker when he can find the time to be so, sits up, letting the shirt that’s been shading his face fall into his lap. Your eyes track its descent– even that seems slow. He says something to you, managing a crooked grin while he squints in the heat of the sun, but you don’t hear it.

“Huh?”

“Everyone except you, anyway,” he repeats himself, reaching over Sasha and smearing his thumb through the peach juice collected on your chin. Eren’s thumb disappears between his pink lips, and when he sucks on it with a satisfied hum, your jaw clenches hard enough to hurt.

“I guess it’s getting close to dinner,” Sasha says regretfully, picking her wristwatch, a priceless Braus family heirloom, up from a puddle of orange juice and tanning oil. “We should probably clean off.”

“I might even shower twice,” Armin rubs a hand over his belly with a grimace, “this tanning oil makes my skin greasy.”

“I feel disgusting,” Historia agrees, sliding red toes into her sandals and standing with a dramatic stretch.

“Filthy,” Eren murmurs in agreement. He’s still staring at you.

“I’ll be in soon. I’m so close to the color I wanted for today– I just need, like, ten more minutes.” You peel down the strip of bathing suit stretched over your hip, showing off the distinct mark of yesterday’s color and today’s tan.

“You’re crazy,” Sasha scoffs, throwing some designer sarong her mother lent her over her shoulder, “I’m melting.”

Armin and Historia pause their bickering over who gets to wear Armin’s Cucinelli belt to dinner—Armin wants it for his trousers, Historia for her maxi dress—just long enough to offer a momentary goodbye, breezing along into the house with Sasha. You settle back into your chair and take a deep breath, letting the sun sink into you just long enough to forget that you’re not alone.

“Open up.”

You’ve been enjoying this game of trading one sense for another, and you keep your eyes shut firmly, letting your jaw fall open and your tongue hang out. A piece of peach, fleshy and dripping with juice, finds its way onto your tongue, pinched too roughly between strong fingers. When you close your lips around the fruit, the fingers stay with it, frozen in their pinched position and forcing you to suck the peach from them, to swallow around them, to run your tongue along them and get as much of the meat as you can. When the fingers withdraw from your lips, you open your eyes and gasp quietly.

Eren’s leaning over you, a solar eclipse that smells like tan skin and sounds like Campari, and in the silhouette of the sunlight, you think he’s smiling.

“You’re still hungry,” he says, a question that’s left its punctuation mark behind. You think of Historia, of the improper shame of revealing your appetite. You dodge.

“I’m never hungry.”

“Never?” Eren crawls over you to kneel between your legs, propping one of your ankles up on his shoulder. The game you started is ripped out of your hands, chess pieces flying into the pool, scattering across the table, knocking over bottles and matchbooks. It’s so silent out here in the sun it hurts, and you almost miss the constant buzzing horseflies of early summer.

“Never.”

“If you’ve never been hungry,” Eren muses, tilting his head so that his cheekbone fits into the sensitive arch of your foot, reaching a hand down to splay it wide on your belly, “you’ve never been full.”

“How do you figure?” Your words come out throaty, waterlogged.

“Can’t have one without the other.” Eren shrugs, turning his head to the side. His lips brush against your heel, your Achilles’, the swirly seashell dangling from your anklet. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip, toes twitching behind his ear. “I don’t believe you, anyway.”

“No?” You try to tilt your head coyly, like your heart’s not clawing and scratching against your throat to get to him. Hungry, indeed.

“You wouldn’t stare like that if you didn’t want to.”

You’re taken aback, but not enough to fall out of the moment– Eren’s lips closing around the knob of your ankle slowly, like the pit of a fruit, make sure of that.

“Didn’t want to what?”

Eren’s hands meet the cushion on either side of your head hard enough to rattle the chair, his long, tanned body stretching over yours. He’s close enough to brush his nose against yours, but you can still see the hazy green of his eyes flicking here and there on your face: from your eyes to your lips to the beauty mark on your cheek. Your poolside lounge feels more like a butcher’s block under your taut spine.

Sasha’s told you about the wolves in these hills, that they howl murder at night, but they’re sleepy and indulgent in the heat of the sun. One of Eren’s canines catches the light and glints at you as he grins.

“Eat yourself sick.” He practically spits it into your mouth, one thigh pressed into where you’re sticky and sinful, and he chuckles under his breath when you shudder under him, feverish in the late-afternoon heat.

Before you can even think of biting back, Eren’s off of you, picking your sandals off of the ground and sliding them gently onto your feet, stopping to run his palm from your ankle to your kneecap with an appraising hum.

“We should head inside,” he says evenly, offering a hand to pull you to your feet, “I’d hate for us to miss dinner.”

You don’t have anything to say back to him, letting him lace his fingers through yours like lines in a play, interspersing seamlessly with the summer scenery. Eren leads you through the kitchen, waits patiently for you to take your sandals off, and waves you on your way up the stairs, saying he needs a cigarette. As the distance between you grows, your mind grows clearer, and you turn on your heel, calling down to him from the top of the stairs.

“Eren? Eren? Where are you, Eren?”

“Call me something else,” Eren pokes his head around the corner, smoke pouring from the grin on his face, “whatever you want, really. Make your own name for me.”

“You stare at me, too,” you say, tearing through his impishness. Eren cocks his head, unperturbed, smile growing wide as he nods.

“I do.”

“So you’re…” You can’t bring yourself to say it, not where it might echo in the cavernous hallway, where it might take the form of a confession. You scamper down the stairs, nearly sliding on bare feet, almost crashing into Eren when he appears at the foot of the staircase, catching you with two broad palms on either side of your ribcage. You pluck the cigarette from his mouth, stick it between your own teeth, narrow your eyes accusingly, and whisper: “You’re hungry too.”

“For every man hath business and desire, Such it is.” Eren takes the cigarette back, pulling on it and making a clear show of trying to hide a smirk.

“Hamlet?”

“A woman with teeth and a brain,” Eren tilts his head at you, “aren’t you something?”

“Do you always quote Shakespeare when you want to fuck somebody?”

“Only when I want to fuck you.” Eren stubs the cigarette out on the ancient oak of the staircase railing, grins up at you brilliantly, smiles brighter when he notices how obviously flustered you are.

“I need to go take a shower,” you say hurriedly, choking on the remnants of your shame and your confidence as they burn out in your throat, making an attempt to back up the stairs away from him. Eren laughs at your attempted escape, catching you by the wrist and pulling you close to him, close enough to dizzy you on the tendrils of smoke still sticking to him. Your breath stills, your heart slows as Eren wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you together, skin on tacky skin.

“Oh, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” Eren coos to you, mouth moving against your cheekbone. “C’mon, just one bite.”

“He that is proud eats up himself,” you hiss a quote back at him in response, ripping yourself from his grip and scrambling up the stairs, heart pounding and cheeks burning. You can hear a lovesick sigh follow you up to your room, and hope that the slam of the door behind you is enough to keep it from touching you.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

The murky waters of your vision ripple out into clarity, and you’ve found yourself in a forest. You’ve been here before, you recognize the tall, thick trunks and the bed of fallen leaves under your feet. You’ve been coming here since you were a little girl, been wiggling your toes in the greenery since before you could remember. You never come alone.

It appears just as you remembered: a blinding glimmer of light, a flame for a head, and ribbonlike wisps of energy that beckon you like arms, like love. One step towards it, and it disappears, vanishing into nothing with an echo that might be laughter. You think it’s happy to see you.

When it reappears a few feet away, you take your first steps, sighing at the feeling of the wild enveloping you, of the prickling of your skin, kissed by the chill winding through the trees. You wish you could explore this place, so familiar and so strange all at once, but you know you have to keep moving, keep following the lights as they lead you deeper and deeper into the forest. They won’t hurt you; you aren’t sure why that’s true, aren’t sure why you keep moving. You just know better than to stop.

They lead you over a familiar path, winding past a creek, over a bed of flat stones with an ice-cold creek running over them. You never tire here, legs pumping and arms working to push yourself faster. You’ve never caught the lights, and you aren’t sure if you ever will, but again, you know better than to doubt. It feels like hours, feels like minutes, feels like purpose, chasing these lights through the forest, but suddenly, something’s new.

There’s a little chirping sound, almost conversational and too high-pitched for you to understand; you’re not even sure if you recognize the language. It ricochets around the bones in your body, touches something ancient in their marrow. You almost jerk your head to the right to find the source, but you resist, pushing ahead on your path as the lights lead you deeper. You get the feeling that you’ve gone off-script somewhere, that this is a part of the forest you haven’t seen before, but the warmth in your bones shoos your doubts away. You’ve never been this far, but it feels like home.

A growl curls around the shell of your ear, plants fear right in the center of your chest. Your eyes widen at the light before you before it disappears; you frown at the next one, not daring to speak but demanding an answer anyhow. The lights will save you, won’t they?

Shrieks from overhead, guttural, animalistic calls, howls and chatters of excitement; you never presumed to be alone in this forest, but you never presumed to be in danger, either. The lights urge you on, vanishing and regenerating at an alarming rate, your feet drumming against the forest floor faster and faster. A sliver of moonlight begins to glow from the trees a ways off, an indication that there’s a clearing ahead, and you shove the bile in your throat down, swing your arms faster, ignore the frantic fluttering of your pulse in time with the bestial chorus ringing clearer and louder from the trees with each passing second.

You do, against all odds, manage to launch yourself into the clearing, and the moment you feel the soft cushion of moss under your feet, as opposed to the branch-littered, crunchy path of the forest, you nearly stumble to your knees as your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness of the clearing. The grumblings of the woodland entities have quieted, an almost awestruck silence settling in the open space around you.

“There you are.”

Your head snaps up comically fast– “You?”

“Me,” Eren says, that razor-sharp, moonlight smile lighting up his face. He looks…right here, as if the forest is extending a sense of belonging, as if he’s been here longer than the ancient trees themselves. Even the little crown nestled atop his head is fitting: a tangle of brambles and thorns and leaves tucked into his dark locks. Is that a throne under him, that mass of branches and leaves and some silvery metal you can’t place?

His eyes glow in the starlight, illuminated with a certain hunger that you can feel reverberating through your bones. It should be frightening, but it’s enticing. You feel welcome.

“What are you doing here?” Your tongue is slower on the uptake than your mind, and you can feel the suspicious expression folding your facial features, hiding the thrum of anticipation the sight of him brings.

Eren cocks his head pityingly, smiling at you in a way that would seem predatory if it wasn’t so entirely disarming, so entirely inviting. Your feet are bringing you closer before he even speaks— you know why you’re here before he says it.

“I’ve been waiting so long,” Eren beckons you onto his lap, firmly grabbing your shoulder and silently demanding you straddle him when you try to turn away from him, “you’re beautiful, so…alive here.”

He takes a bit of your hair between your fingers and rubs it, satisfaction flickering over his face. It’s then that you realize how little fabric covers you; really, it’s only a thin, wispy excuse of a dress, hanging in tatters around your body and leaving your skin free for the taking. Taking notice of your dress leads you to take notice of another pressing matter: Eren’s naked beneath you.

“Where are we?”

“Does it matter?” Eren reaches up to toy with your hair again, smiling gently. He tilts his head up, asking you for something you can’t identify, but that you already know you’re willing to give. Your soul, maybe.

Your lips meet his in a tentative brush, a motion that feels shy, but practiced. It’s a reflex, an instinct, to kiss him this way. Eren groans gutturally against your mouth, pressing into you deeper, digging his fingertips into your bare skin. The chorus of inhuman chatter erupts around you both again, and you jump, almost pushing away from him before he stops you with a firm hand against the small of your back.

“Sh,” he whispers, nipping at your chin, “don’t pay them any mind. You’re with me, remember?”

It’s difficult at first with the ever-growing hum of life around you, but it grows increasingly easier to melt into him, to lose yourself in the rhythm of him. He’s thick and hard underneath you, pressed right where you’re already slick and ready for him, and he’s got a tight grip on your hips, working you against him to make sure you feel it and oh– do you feel it.

A debauched gasp pours from your mouth to his; Eren sinks sharp teeth into your bottom lip with a grunt of approval, pulls you up to situate you over his twitching cock. You can feel the lecherous eyes of the woodland creatures, spirits, monsters, whatever they may be around you, looking in on the sticky, tangible arousal building between your bodies. The steady glow of Eren’s eyes, the prick of the thorns in his hair under your fingertips, the insistent weight of him pressing against the wet heat of you: all of it keeps you grounded, keeps your hips rolling into Eren like your life depends on it, like it’s what you were born to do.

“Are you ready?” Eren murmurs, quiet as the grave, stilling your hips and lifting you.

“I’m not sure, I–”

“I’ve been waiting so long,” Eren interrupts, “so long for you– you’re ready for me, I know you are.”

And with that, he’s sliding you down onto his cock, splitting you open, dropping your jaw. The cacophony from the forest grows deafening, but the glowing eyes in the brush streak and blur as your eyes flutter closed, a stuttered moan falling from your lips.

“Oh–”

“Knew you were ready,” Eren sinks his teeth into your collarbone, lets you wiggle and roll your hips until he’s situated comfortably inside of you. “You were born for this. For me.”

You can’t even bring yourself to disagree, to refute, to question. It’s godly, the way he fills you, the twinge of pain in the pit of your belly that doesn’t waver, no matter which way you squirm. The longer you sit, perched upon him– you feel something akin to divinity, akin to prophecy ringing through your bones. You were born for this.

“Eren…” It’s more of a sigh than anything, a confession and an admittance of guilt, a repentance. He likes the way it tastes, you can tell by the way his hands grip you harder, roll you along his cock faster with an urgency that betrays his calm, adoring gaze. He’s sinking his claws into you, bit by bit, and you’re better for it. You belong here, with the night on your skin and Eren nestled inside of you.

“Don’t ever leave,” Eren smiles gently, as if it’s a choice, “stay with me forever.”

The pleasure’s beginning to peak in your stomach, the howls swirling in the air around you start to feel more like a blanket, the moonlight like a crown. His hands are so hot they almost burn, his tongue licking up your neck feels like a baptism. Your back is arching, your blood is rushing, the stars are speaking to you– what are they saying?

Your fingernails have left angry indents in your throat where you’ve clutched into the skin in a desperate attempt to regain your breath, shooting up out of your slumber with a vicious jolt. Your head spins with the sudden movement, the antique furnishings of the room bleeding into candlelit blurs as you heave for breath.

“Sleeping?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the gravel of Eren’s voice, having believed yourself to be alone. Some instinctual part of your mind almost remembers falling asleep on the loveseat in the glass-enclosed sunroom earlier, one too many martinis to thank for that, but you can worry about that later– Eren’s your priority now, shirtless and leaned against the doorframe with one eyebrow raised and a very telling flush rising to his cheeks. The chilly wetness between your legs brings your dream to the forefront of your mind. Had he heard, somehow?

“What are you doing down here?” You do your best to narrow your eyes into something convincing enough to pass for annoyance, unsure if you’ve managed to pull it off with the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

“Water,” Eren says simply, raising a glass you hadn’t noticed he was holding, “but it seems like you might need it more than I do.”

“I don’t–” He ignores you, crossing the room to hand you the ornate glass. Your throat is dry, and so you drink, eyeing him suspiciously as you sip.

“Dreaming?” The corner of his mouth twitches almost imperceptibly.

“Nightmare.” You push yourself up to sit, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. “How’d you know?”

A long pause, Eren’s eyes dragging over you slowly, your skin burning. “You were squirming.”

“It was disturbing,” you say truthfully, looking over your shoulder and half-expecting to see some horrible monster leering at you from the doorway, salivating over you and Eren, “but I’ve had this same dream since I was a kid. Part of it, anyway.”

“Need company?”

“No,” you say quickly, shaken by the dream and how low Eren’s pajama pants hang on his hips, “I just need to get to my real bed. I’m sure sleeping outside had something to do with it.”

“That’s not true.” Eren’s scooping you up into his arms before you can open your mouth to argue, as if you even would. This isn’t unusual for him; you’ve grown used to his tendency to touch you, to hold you close to his chest as though you belong there. It echoes in your head, you were born for this. A shudder wracks through your body. “Cold?”

“Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your own voice. Eren nuzzles your head deeper into his shoulder, lets you get a noseful of the scent of him. Dewdrops, mankind, a rotting forest floor. It gives you a disconcerting sense of deja vu.

“Sleeping outside is good for you,” Eren goes on, scaling the stairs with impossible ease, “my mom used to tell me that.”

“Is that so?” It brings a sleepy little smile to your face, despite yourself: the image of a messy-haired, fussy baby Eren, curled up in his mother’s lap and looking up at the night sky.

“Sure.” You can hear the nostalgia in his voice. “The stars can talk to you that way, through your dreams. They show you where you’re supposed to go.”

Your blood runs cold at that– does he know? How could he? He’s a man, not a mind-reader, not a mystic. Right? You let him carry you to your door in silence, the only noise being the padding of his bare feet down the Turkish carpet runner in the hall. When he gets to your door, Eren finally starts to move to let you down, and your mouth moves without your permission, voice small and echoing in the still nighttime air.

“Eren?”

He freezes, muscles locking you in place against his chest. “Yeah?”

“Was I talking in my sleep?”

Eren settles you on your feet before answering, leaving one lingering hand on your hip and bringing the other up to brush at your cheek. Your eye must have been watering– his thumb catches a stray tear. His smile is a little too sharp when he answers.

“No, why?”

“Just wondering.” Relief courses through your body, but your muscles stay taut under his touch.

“Okay,” Eren looks you up and down one more time, as if he’s making sure you’re all there, “goodnight, then. I hope your dreams get better.”

When he turns to go, the broad silhouette of him growing darker as he retreats, you remember something fragile underneath the floorboards.

“Wait, Eren! You forgot your water.”

“My what?” When he turns to face you, he’s still grinning– baring his teeth, more like. You think you’re imagining the glow in his eyes, too fresh from that dream.

“Your water. I think I have a cup in my room if you need it.”

“Oh.” Eren waves a hand nonchalantly through the air, catching a stray stream of moonlight. You can see the dust particles dancing around his hand, enchanted by his movement. “Wasn’t thirsty."

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

It’s a slinky, dazzling dress; Elie Saab, Spring 2005, maybe? 2006? Sasha had lent it to you, insisted upon you taking it, really. It’s got to be worth at least your years’ rent payment, dripping with Swarovski and cut low and square across your chest, and easily the most decadent thing you’ve ever worn but– it’s family dinner night. No expense is spared.

Historia sits across from you, reaching one dainty hand out for Armin’s negroni, nearly dipping the massive drop-pearl charm on her bracelet into the first course: a cold, cucumber soup. Armin nudges her meaningfully, scowling and handing his glass to her, glancing apologetically at the stiff-backed butler across the room, who wasn’t looking anyway. Sasha’s at the head of the table, working on Historia’s serving of the cucumber soup, dunking focaccia bread into it in a voracious manner that you’re sure wasn’t outlined in the etiquette courses she’d endured as a child. And he’s next to you, naturally.

His dinner jacket looks out of place on him, oddly enough: angular and overly formal, as well-fitting as it is. You wish it was a little greener, a little more playful, something to match the Eren you’ve gotten to know under all the glitz and glamour. It’s too human for him, really, but that thought makes you shudder faster than you can shove it to the side.

“Wasn’t that the girl from Luxembourg?” Sasha asks through a giggle, finally leaning back to allow the butler to collect the remnants of her first course. Historia frowns at her, gulps back nearly half of Armin’s cocktail.

“No, the girl from Luxembourg was a slut. He wouldn’t have touched her.”

Armin and Eren exchange a look that implies that, whoever the slut from Luxembourg might have been, she didn’t escape their clutches unscathed. Historia notices the guilty smile dimpling Eren’s cheek and smacks Armin in retaliation.

“Ouch, Stori!” Armin scowls right back at her; if you didn’t know about Armin’s father’s remarriage to Historia’s mother, you’d think they were actually related.

“She was a slut,” Historia sniffs, finishing the rest of Armin’s cocktail in a second swig.

“It was Eren’s idea– you’re always punishing me for what he does.” When the staff place the second course, some sort of ceviche, in front of him, Armin crosses his arms over his chest and looks away like a huffy child. Sasha laughs and swats at his shoulder.

“Don’t pretend you don’t have your own hand in things. You can’t blame everything on Eren.”

“Maybe he can,” you shrug, the champagne going to your head. You’re feeling impish, feeling like one of them. Wildly, you reach a hand up to pinch at Eren’s cheek, smiling to yourself when you feel it turn warm under your fingers. “I mean, just look at him. He’s a devil.”

“Am not,” Eren scoffs, slapping a hand on your leg and shaking it playfully, “you weren’t there anyway. Min’s very convincing when he wants to be.”

“I am.” Armin smiles at you, head tilting intrepidly. “I can get Eren to share anything I want, I bet.”

It feels loaded, like a challenge, and Eren’s fingers tighten where he’s gripping your leg. When you chance a glance to the side at him, his jaw is tense, gaze focused on Armin like a threat, like a predator.

“Not anything,” Eren says, voice low and dangerous, more somber than you’ve ever heard him. Armin’s face falls for a millisecond, scrunching his nose at the murderous glint in Eren’s eyes, before he clenches his jaw and glances between the two of you with a haughty smirk.

“Est-ce vrai? En êtes-vous sûr? Tu l'as dit toi-même - je suis convaincant quand je veux quelque chose.”

“Ne commencez pas avec moi, pas pour ça.” It’s hardly louder than a murmur, but the threat carries all the same. You look to Sasha with widened eyes, hoping for a translation, but she’s chewing slowly on a bite of her ceviche, looking at Armin, Eren, then Armin again with a strange expression you’ve never seen before.

A heavy silence settles over the table, Eren’s fingertips leaving sore spots through your dress where they’re digging into your thigh, and Armin’s eyes dancing over Eren’s face, that same smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Daring.

“You two are so in love,” Historia gripes with a roll of her eyes, smashing the carefully-cubed ceviche on her plate into a mush. You eye the smear of meat on her fork disdainfully and set down the bite you had been about to pop in your mouth, opting for your glass of bubbles instead.

The jokingly grumpy lilt of Historia’s comment seems to cut the thread of tension that had grown taut between the two men, as Armin allows Sasha to pull him away from Eren and back into his corner of the table with her and Historia. Their conversation drones on, the ethics of Eren and Armin’s tendency to tag-team women fading into the background as you wait for Eren’s hand to slip from your thigh. It doesn’t.

His thumb rubs idly over the slit of your dress, brushing it back and forth over your bare skin for just long enough to get you used to the pressure of his palm beaming heat through the thin fabric, get your guard down. And then his fingers slip underneath, grabbing into the hot flesh of your thigh.

You jump ever so slightly, flighty as a fawn, and Eren chuckles under his breath beside you when you choke a bit on your champagne. He’s cool—stoic, even—as he bashfully bats away the scandalous insinuations of Sasha and Historia’s storytelling, the lewd raise of Armin’s eyebrows at the mention of a certain leggy redhead in Prague. His hand stays steady, possessive and permanent on your leg. When Armin and Historia start arguing over yet another of Armin’s alleged missteps with one of her college friends, Eren takes the opening to lean into you, murmuring into your ear.

“What’s got you so jumpy?” His breath puffs out hot and sensual against the shell of your ear, and you can feel your earring lifting with the movement of his lips. He’s so close.

“Not jumpy,” you answer under your breath, trying to keep your composure.

“Hm,” Eren hums, leaning back just enough to study your profile, “wasn’t sure if you’d dozed off, started dreaming again.”

Your head whips towards him in what is surely an uncouth accusation of insinuation, borne of shock, but luckily, Armin’s too busy being hand-fed ceviche by Sasha and scolded by Historia to notice. Other than his eyes, Eren’s stiller than death, watching over the antics with the littlest smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. His eyes, though, flick down to you, glinting like a dare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means something?” It’s a challenge, and you realize too late that the rope around your ankle has cinched, and you’re caught in his trap.

“No,” you say, hoping for more conviction in your voice, but it comes out as a breathy whisper. The corner of Eren’s mouth twitches, and it pulls an irritated huff from you.

“Tell me about your dream. The one that woke you up the other night.”

“Tell you– w-what? Here?”

“Yes, here,” Eren repeats you, quiet and calm, keeping one eye on your bickering friends to ensure you’re kept all to himself, “unless it’s something you can’t share.”

The blanching of your face tells him everything he needs to know, and that sickening admission almost overshadows the fact that he knows. He undeniably knows, now; maybe not the specifics, but enough to know that you had woken up sticky and gasping after a sinful dream. Maybe he even knows it was about him.

You’ve given up on trying to understand the otherworldly elements of Eren; the way he seems to appear at inopportune moments and know what you’re thinking at every turn, but this is too much. You quickly realize that while you’re not sober, you’re certainly not drunk enough to deal with him, and you finish your glass of champagne in a single gulp.

“You’re one to talk about sharing,” you hiss at him, trying to will away the goosebumps prickling your arms as his fingers inch higher, skating along soft skin. Eren’s demeanor falters, if only for a moment– he looks frustrated.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Eren leans into you, brows furrowing. “I don’t share just anything, and especially not just because ‘Min wants a taste.”

“Am I yours to share?” That heavy swig of champagne has gone straight to your head it seems, as you turn your face up to him defiantly, finally saying the quiet part out loud. The weight falls off your shoulders like a head, and you can almost feel the itch of the guillotine at your neck as the words leave your mouth. Eren, ever the gentle executioner, only lets the calm fascination return to his face, brings his fingers further up your thigh.

“Tell me about your dream, hm? They’re not listening, it’s just you and me.”

He’s only inches away from where you’re already beginning to grow hot and wet– he hasn’t even done anything, and you want to chastise yourself over the undeniable need beginning to bubble inside you. Eren’s smiling so sweetly, as if he’s lulling you into a sense of complacency, and your tongue hangs heavy in your mouth, eager to spill your secrets.

“I…I’m scared.”

Eren’s eyebrows raise and his smile grows a bit toothier, disbelief written plain on his face. “Of me?”

“Sometimes,” you say, small and honest as the grave, “it’s like you aren’t real.”

“I’m very real,” Eren insists, two fingers pressing against the damp silk of your panties, his eyes lighting up when you stifle a gasp, “doesn’t that feel real?”

“Wait–”

“The dream,” Eren says again, increasing the pressure of his fingers, “were you scared of me there, too?”

“Yes,” you whisper, ashamed and painfully cognizant of the feel of him between your legs, “I was in a forest, running after the little lights, they– I’ve seen them for a long time.”

“Since you were a child,” Eren repeats your confession from the other night. He’s reading you, you realize, not like a book, but like a poem. You couldn’t put the difference into words if you had to, but there’s a certain melody to the flickering of his gaze over your hot face.

“They’ve never led me anywhere before,” your words hitch in your throat, stopped dead when Eren’s fingers start rubbing circles over your swollen clit. The silk is thin and soaked, and his fingers slide over you in a way that feels god-given. Your jaw hangs ever-so-slightly, the butlers coming to change the course. You wait for Eren to slip his hand out from under your dress, fearful of the staff watching as he toys with you, but he only nods encouragingly.

“Keep going.”

“Um,” you stammer, swallowing thickly and glancing at the plate of bleeding, rare filet in front of you, “they took me to a clearing in the forest. There were creatures, ones I’ve never seen before.”

“Did they hurt you? Any of them?” A furrow appears between his eyebrows, deep and concerned. Some small part of your brain, muted since Eren’s hand slid beneath your dress, worries itself with why Eren seems so disquieted with your dream– it’s not like you actually could have been hurt, it was only a dream. Wasn’t it?

“No, they stayed away. They just made a lot of noise, but they all got quiet when…”

A knowing smirk. “When?”

“When I saw you.”

Eren pats your thighs gently, urging them apart; he looks relieved, exhilarated, unreal. If you didn’t know better, you’d think his eyes were glowing in the candlelight. Armin, Historia, and Sasha’s clamor across the table grows louder with each passing second, but as soon as you begin to wonder if you should be doing a better job of hiding what’s very clearly happening under the slit of your dress, Eren’s fingers have wiggled their way beneath the fabric of your silk thong. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, eyes widening.

“I was glad to see you,” Eren says quietly, “in the dream, I mean.”

“You said you’d been waiting for me,” you whisper, keeping your voice low to hide the whine scratching at the back of your throat, “that you’d been waiting a long time.”

“I bet I was,” Eren hums thoughtfully, grinning viciously when he sinks a finger into you, clearly relishing the way your fingernails tighten into his wrist. “I never lie.”

“Even in a dream?” You feel fuzzy and warm, blinking moony, worried eyes up at him. Eren shakes his head in confirmation, curling his finger and making your thighs clench. “You put me in your lap, and–and, you had a crown. It was nighttime, I think, and the moon was really bright. You were inside me.”

Eren slides another finger in to match the first, and you’re hardly able to stifle a moan when it comes fluttering through your teeth, a breeze of a sound compared to what you’re struggling to keep captive in your chest. Eren’s other hand reaches forward to grab a small piece of the carved steak, brings the meat up to your mouth and brushes it over your lips.

“Eat,” Eren instructs, smiling placidly as you mindlessly obey, biting into the red meat, “but keep telling me.”

He waits patiently for you to chew around the bite of steak he’s offered you, eyes searching you for something– what it is, you can’t be sure. Your mind is wobbling around the flashes of memory of your dream, distracted every few steps by an overwhelming rush of pleasure from between your legs, Eren’s fingers curling incessantly against your walls. You swallow, never taking your eyes off of him.

“You fucked me.” The confession is breathless when it leaves you, and even through the haze of what you pray isn’t a rapidly-approaching orgasm, you don’t miss the way Eren’s shoulders stiffen, the way his eyes flash.

“Did I fuck you, or did you fuck me?” Eren murmurs back to you, mischief in his eyes and a tense gravel to his voice. “You said you were in my lap, after all.”

“I—oh, god—I don’t know,” you’re barely able to keep your voice low, a little whimper interrupting you, “Eren–”

“Keep going, it’s okay,” Eren’s fingers don’t slow– in fact, they begin to move more harshly, “you’re safe with me, you know that. I showed you in the forest, didn’t I?”

“Mhm.” You can’t stop your forehead from falling onto his shoulder, teeth digging into your lip so hard you aren’t sure if that coppery taste is from the steak, or your own blood. The conversation in the room, despite being made by only three people, feels like a deafening rush in your ears.

The realization hits home that Eren’s going to make you cum all over his fingers in front of your friends, the staff, and your dinner, and he’s going to wrench it out of you in a matter of seconds, if the tightening of your gut is anything to go by.

“What else?” Eren practically growls in your ear, low and hoarse. “Is there anything else?”

“You asked me– fuck, you asked me something.” Your hips are canting forward into his palm, your face tacky and warm thinking about the couture fabric under you, now drenched in your cum and sweat. “Eren, you have to slow down, please–”

He’s merciless, pumping his fingers into you ceaselessly, rendering you a lost cause. “What did I ask you?”

“You asked—oh, my god—asked if I, if I would stay with you forever.”

“What was your answer?”

You can’t respond, not with the way you’ve stopped breathing to swallow down the debauched moan bubbling in your chest. Your entire body tenses, strung tight as a bow around Eren’s fingers as the knot in your stomach unravels, cool, inevitable release finally crashing over you. Eren works you through it, murmuring little hushes into your hairline, and placing a comforting hand over your fingers that are digging into his wrist, smiling against your forehead as you slide your hips back and forth over his hand.

You manage to pull the whole thing off impressively subdued, no more than a tinny whimper leaving your lips, only to be absorbed by the sleeve of Eren’s dinner jacket. When you dare to sit up, to meet Eren’s eyes, he’s still looking at you expectantly, as if that wasn’t enough.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” you whisper, waiting for Historia to chastise you, or Armin to make a lewd comment. The three of them are still arguing, Sasha stealing bites from Armin’s plate each time he turns to snap at Historia, who’s now sitting amongst a crowd of empty crystal glasses.

“What was your answer?” Eren says again, pulling his fingers from you and smirking at the glisten that stretches down into his palm.

“I woke up,” you say with shaky conviction, trying to glare at him.

“Are you still scared of me?” Eren asks innocently, picking up a piece of his steak with his hand and feeding it to you again. Your cum mixes in with the flavor of the steak, gives it a certain tang and salinity that makes your heart beat faster, even though you’ve just floated back down to consciousness.

“I– I don’t think so, but…” you trail off, looking down at the plate. Eren brings another piece to your lips, letting you bite half and giving the rest to himself, not missing the opportunity to suck on the tips of his fingers. Your thighs press together when his eyes flutter shut, knowing what he’s tasting and watching him revel in it.

“But what?”

“I don’t think I understand you,” you confess breathlessly, “I think that’s what scares me. I spend all day looking at you, and I never feel closer to understanding you, to really touching you. It’s like you’re not…” you trail off in search of the right word.

“Real?” Eren cocks an eyebrow at you.

“Human,” you say without entirely meaning to, widening your eyes at him in apology. “I’m sorry, not in a bad way necessarily, but– you feel…like you’re above me. In a sense.”

“Above you?” Eren frowns, forgetting his dinner entirely and looking straight at you with rejection written all over his face, wrinkles you want to smoothe over with your thumb.

“I just…” you sigh, finding it harder to meet his gaze by the second, “I don’t understand what you want with me.”

“Still?” Eren tilts his head. “Even after that?”

“The dream?” You nearly chuckle in exasperation. “It was just a dream, that’s all.”

Eren frowns a little, reaches for your glass of champagne– oh, god, when had that been refilled?– and hands it to you. He watches you take one sip, and then another, that concentrated pull of his eyebrows never ceasing until you reach a shaky hand out for your fork, beginning to feed yourself small bites of steak. His perplexed expression ripples out into one of contentedness, smiling gently as he watches you take care of yourself.

“All days are nights to see till I see thee, and nights bright days when dreams do show me thee,” Eren finally says, looking at you very much like you’re supposed to be parsing something out from his quote.

“On to the sonnets now, are we?” You cock a playful eyebrow at him, despite your tired, slouching posture and your repeated attempts to keep your guard up. Eren grins mischievously, leaning in as if he means to press the tip of his nose to yours.

“I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say–”

“If it be love indeed, tell me how much?” You’re quicker than him on this one, a vicious little smirk cutting across your face when you manage to cut him off. Eren’s eyebrows raise, impressed, but you don’t keep him down for long.

“There’s beggary in love that can be reckoned,” Eren finally says, twirling the ring on your pinky absentmindedly. You don’t even remember when he laid his hand atop yours, but it feels heavy and comforting, and so you let it lie there, just for the time being.

Your post-orgasm exhaustion hits you like a train, the temptation to slump against Eren’s shoulder winning out over your propriety. You’ll sit back up by the fourth course, you tell yourself, nibbling on a large piece of parsley that had come as a garnish on your plate. Eren doesn’t seem to mind the weight of your fuzzy head nodded into the cotton of his shoulder; in fact, he seems to adjust himself so you can nuzzle closer, eyes blinking owlishly as you reach for your glass of bubbles. You’re teetering dangerously close to the edge of unconsciousness, and you almost wouldn’t care, until something catches your eye.

Over the rim of your glass, Historia is staring at you. It’s not a look of admonishment, but more…caution? Concern? Pity? All you can discern for certain is that Historia must have seen everything Eren did to you, everything he’s still doing to you, taking a caviar bump off the back of his hand and laughing at Armin, shoulder shaking under your cheek. Historia’s brows furrow at you, her bottom lip wavering slightly.

You sit up suddenly, ignoring the way the room spins with the speed of your action. Eren turns his head to you, surprised, only to follow your gaze across the table to Historia. You’re trying to keep from looking at him, but you can’t help yourself, watching his expression crumple into something stern and disparaging.

Historia withers for only a moment, before narrowing her eyes at him threateningly. Eren squeezes his hand around yours. Sasha shoves Historia admonishingly for not listening to her joke. Armin’s eyes focus in on where your fingers grip your champagne flute hard enough to turn white.

You think you see a few pairs of familiar, glowing eyes in the bushes outside, peering in on the scene at the table. You think you need to go to bed.

#eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger fanfiction #aot #aot fanfic #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager x you #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #that's all for now folks!!!!#more to come in part 2<3

395 notes · View notes

jazziejax · 1 year ago

Text

𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐌𝐬.𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥

Pairings- Black!OC x Abbott Elementary Cast, later Black!OC x Manny (Can be read as x Reader though!)

Summary- S1E1-Light Bulb with Naoya Lovel

Warnings- Swearing, kids, mixed race reader( those aren't warnings really, just what to expect)

Jazzie'sNotes!- let me know what you guys think!! I've been really obsessed with Abbott Elementary recently and I'm contemplating if I want to write S1&S2 just to get to the Manny season. I want to get there fast but I know what won't be possible with two seasons worth of writing. Let me know what you guys think I should do.

Word Count- 5,680

“Ten seconds!” Jacob yelled over his shoulder at the people in the room. Melissa and Barbra rushed over to the sitting area in front of the television that played the action news. Naoya sitting the opposite of them on the small couch.

“Oh, we love Action News! Get in early just to watch it.” Melissa said to the cameras. “It just really calms you down after wanting to take a wrench to someone's side mirror in traffic.” She beamed as if what she said was totally normal.

“But the Philadelphia region continues to suffer, temperature in the mid-90s with a heat index approaching 100…” The television said as they all sat and watched.

“Now I’m a proud married Christian woman and I love my husband. But there’s something about that Jim Gardner.” Barba gushed to the cameras. “That non-regional diction.” The woman was practically blushing just at the thought of the man.

“It is so important to support and acknowledge local journalism, okay?” Jacob started. “There’s no agenda here. This is—This is one going, in the streets, powerful stuff.” He explained seriously.

“I get in early just to see my aunt Magnolia on the screen. She’s a news anchor and I like telling her what I like and dislike about her outfits every morning.” Naoya nodded nonchalantly.

“Wouldn’t want to see that dog in traffic.” Jim Fardner said as they all laughed while watching a little Pomeranian dog drive a toy car.

“Yes, Jim.” Barbra agreed, not seeing the confused look Noaya gave her from the side.

“I like the news because that’s when I can say whatever I want and nobody asks any questions.” Mr.Johnson told the cameras with a smirk.

“I’m taking a personal day.” The old man said as he entered the room, looking at the backs of everyone’s heads as they continued to watch the morning news. “Going fishing with my friends. Anyways, toilet papers in the closet.” He said before walking out.

“I hear him.” Naoya nodded, giving the people behind the camera a small smile. “I hear everything. Plus he is a hilarious old man and I wanna know all his secrets. I am this close to cracking him.” She said with an evil smirk making its way into her face as she lined her fingers together to indicate a small amount.

“I saw Jim Gardner once. At the Chipotle.” Barbra smiled bashfully, not taking her eyes away from the television. “Ooh, he orders a bowl so handsomely.” She gushed. Naoya gave the older woman another look, this time more concern than confusion.

It was only a moment later that Jacob was going through the break room fridge, poking around for something. “Who’s branzino is this?” He asked, holding the fish dish in his hands. “This is a very powerfully smelling fish to put in a shared fridge.” The boy complained as politely as he could, closing the ice box with a disgusted look on his face.

“Don’t touch it,” Melissa said looking up from her phone. “I’m making it right at my cousin Annette’s.” She made her way over to have a seat in her usual spot next to Barb. “She thinks she’s the best cook in the family. I’m gonna show her in a non-threatening way. Imma look cuter than her too.” She smirked.

“I have a distant cousin named Annette,” Naoya said, finishing up the delicious breakfast sandwich that she had every morning. “She was psychotic though, used to put poison in the condiments at restaurants.” The younger woman stated, looking off in thought as the rest stared at her in disbelief. “I haven’t seen her in ages. Don’t want to either, she was butt ugly.” She then took a sip of her orange juice.

Just as she finished, Janine walked into the room, putting her bag down on the table in front of Melissa and Barbra. “Guys, the lights in the back hallways have been out for weeks.”

“Thank you for the update,” Melissa said as she applied more makeup.

“What are you wearing?” Barbra asked, looking her up and down.

“And we need to do something about it. Okay?” The short woman tried to sound demanding but it didn’t come off that way. “Uh, Melina, from your class.” She started, pointing at Melissa. “Yeah, she was afraid to come to school this morning. Said it looked like “The Shining.” And I don’t even get how she knows that reference.”

“She loves “The Shining,” Melissa stated.

“It’s a classic movie.” Jacob chimed in.

The camera panes Naoya’s way, who looks at them at their movements. ‘Never seen it.’ She mouthed with a shrug of her shoulders.

“This isn’t okay, alright?” Janine stressed. “And I already talked to Mr.Johnson and he said that there isn’t anything he can do.

“What do you want us to do about it?” Barbra asked the girl tiredly.

“I mean, it can’t be hard. It’s just screwing in a few new bulbs.” The small woman stated.

“Janine, just worry about what can be controlled.” Barbra cut her off.

“Exactly.” Melissa agreed. “All we can do on a hot day like this is our own jobs, anyway.”

“I know what’s right,” Ava said as she barged into the room and made her way over to the coffee machine. “Why is it February and hotter than the devil’s booty hole outside?” She asked.

“Climate Change.” Jacob and Naoya said at the same time, causing them to point at one another in recognition while Ava shot both of them a tired look. “We are living in the middle of its disastrous effects. The permafrost in Russia—” He was about to rant before Ava cut him off.

“Nerd.” The woman said between coughs, which sounded more like a laugh. Naoya rolled her eyes while Jacob just turned back to what he was doing.

“Ava.” Janine started, walking up to the woman who was still laughing from her childish joke. “Can someone from the city come and check on the back hallway lights?”

“Girl, no.” The woman answered, her usual judgmental look on her face. “Do I look like the Kool-Aid man?” She asked, halving around the room. Her eyes stopped on Naoya, who raised her eyebrows in question. “Don’t answer that.” She pointed at the woman, who just shrugged it off. “I don’t have enough juice to manipulate the inner workings of city hall.” The principal continued, looking back at Janine and scoffing before making her way out. “They’ll probably come in the summer.” She said as the bell rang.

“I’m the summer?” Janine asked after doing a double take at her words. But the woman was long gone and the others were making their way out of the room to their classes.

“Tough break. Want some egg white bites?” Jacob asked, easing closer to Janine and holding out a plate. The solemn woman looked up at him with a new determination. “No. I don’t have time to eat.” She said before walking out. Jacob was mid-bite when he turned and faced Naoya, who was putting her bag over her shoulder. And before the man could even speak, the woman stopped him. “No, I don’t want your peasant food, Jacob. It’s insulting that you would ask someone as cultured as myself such a question.” She started before strutting out of the break room. Jacob stood there in disbelief.

“It’s just egg white bites, you put them in the microwave.”

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

“Janine, what on earth are you doing on that thing?” Naoya asked as she rushed down the hall to the smaller woman who stood on a ladder. She had just come from using the restroom and leaving a class of a bunch of nine to ten-year-olds unattended for even a few seconds could lead to chaos. She didn’t know that chaos would be the grown woman who was the height of a nine to ten-year-old.

“I’m going to fix this broken light.” The woman said determinedly, only a step above the floor in the heightening tool. Naoya made it next to her, seeing the woman wasn’t doing much movement. She placed her hands on her hips, a smug look on her face. “Janine, you are not meant to go to those heights. God gave you your stature for a reason. Plus you’re terrified.”

“I am not terrified.” The woman said, shooting a glance at her. At that, Naoya gave her a knowing look before ushering the woman to go ahead. Janine nodded and looked back at the matter, fear gripping her. She gulped looking back at Naoya. “Okay, I am terrified but I’m gonna do it because I’m on a mission.” She said before carefully making her way up the ladder.

“If this backfires, you buy my dinner,” Naoya asked, after checking in on her classroom through the glass door, seeing them still doing their reading time. At that, Janine gave a confused look to the air, since she was too scared to look down. “Uh, no. This bet is not in my face, at all.”

“Well, at least have some faith in yourself, goodness gracious.”

At that, Janine continued, taking the cover off the lights and continuing to tweak at the wires. “See, look at this. It was just a loose wire.” The woman said, briefly glancing down at the people below her. She then connected the wire with another one, watching as the light stopped flickering. But it didn’t stop for long, the bulbs brightening before bursting in her face.

“Oh!” The woman screamed as she ducked:

“Janine!” Naoya yelled from below her, hosing her arms out in case the woman fell. Instantly, all the rooms were filled with the sounds of confusion and discomfort. The doors opened as the teachers exited.

“Oh, God! Can someone please help me down?” Janine asked, her voice shaking from the fear of the height she was at and the bulb exploding before her.

“And why would we do that since you caused this situation?” Melissa asked as she propped her door open.

“Okay, I didn’t know doing this would cause all the power to go out.” Janie tried to justify, still clutching onto the ladder.

“Well, the power is not all out,” Barbra stated. “It’s on in some places and off in others.”

“It’s off in my room,” Gregory said.

“On in the gym.” The coach said tiredly, slugging up to the group.

“Yeah, it’s off in my room,” Melissa spoke back up. “Thank God we got the A/C or we’d all be meltin’ already.”

“Okay, well before anyone freaks out, the best thing to do in these situations is just stay calm and—” Naoya started as she looked around the group but was silenced by the frantic voice of their terrible and terrified principal.

“Okay! This is it, y'all! The End Times!” The woman said as she rounded the corner in a hurry, a light strapped to her head. “It’s three months early, but it’s happening!” She said, as she closed in on them, giving the closest thing to her a tousle, which happened to be the very thing that was holding Janine up.

“Aah, don’t shake the ladder.” The smaller woman yelled from up top.

“Gregory is the only person that can stay in my bunker, so stop asking.” The crazed principal continued. Naoya’s head jerked back at her words, shocked at the woman’s blatant advancements that were harassment at this point.

“Ava,” Barbra started, holding her arms out in a non-offensive manner to calm the woman. “It is just a partial power outage. Alright, listen up everyone—.”

“Listen to Barbra, y'all!” The doomsday woman yelled, still latched into the latter out of fear.

“Are you kidding me?” Janie asked, clasping at the top of the ladder for support as it shook again.

“This is what we’re gonna do.” Barbra started again. “Everybody without power, please, head to the gym.”

“Head!” Ava chimed in again.

“We will conduct classes there until this is all fixed. It is not ideal—.” She stressed, looking up at the culprit on the ladder. “But it will work.”

“You hear her. Let’s go!” Ava demanded with a nod.

“Guys!” Janie called from the top of the ladder, causing them all to look up at her. “I-I just wanna I-I’m sorry, everybody.” The woman said nervously. “I just thought if I could get up here and get this done then we wouldn’t have to wait and..”

“And look where it landed us, baby girl.” Barbra cut in. “Everybody please head to the gym. We’ve got bigger fish to fry now.”

“Oh, Jesus! My branzino! Everybody out of the way. Out of the way!” Melissa yelled as she sprinted down the hall filled with children.

“Well, if someone can please help me! I feel like I’m one wobble away from death!” Janie begged from where she fluted the top of the ladder. At that, Naoya walked closer, raising her hand to help guide the woman down but was intercepted by Gregory's large arms. The two people glanced at each other, unexpected by the other one's move. Naoya waved her hand, signaling him to help instead. “Thank you,” Jannie said, too spooked to even pay attention to the odd interaction before her. “Okay, give me your hand. Take your time.” Gregory soothed, his large hand latched onto Janine’s. When he was turned away from her, she gave the camera an odd look, scratching the back of her ear. “Whenever you're ready.”

“Okay.” Janine sighed. There was a moment of silence between them all as they waited. “Am I doing it?” Janie asked, just standing there.

“No, honey,” Naoya spoke up, raising an eyebrow at such an odd question.

“Okay, let’s do a count of three.” Janine reiterated, adjusting herself to prepare.

“Okay,” Gregory started. “One, two…three.” He finished and the woman still wasn’t moving. “One more time.” He said.

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

“This is all my fault,” Janie said as she looked around the gymnasium at all the students. The shock clock then went off, the constant noise startling Gregory, who paused his class to speak to the woman. “Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have tried to do the job of a newly graduated DeVry student, but this is okay.” The man sassed, with an awkward smile as she gestured around the room. Melissa was teaching her kids the best she should with something in flashcards, while Barbra was teaching her students to tell time.

Naoya was on the other side of the room, all her students sitting in rows with their eyes closed and taking deep breaths, with her in the front as a group meditation process. She chose this alternative instead of their gym scheduled gym activities, so the kids weren’t accidentally hitting four-year-olds in the head with basketballs.

Janine sighed, going to pick up her phone that pinged. She read the messages she got from Tariq, and that pissed her off even more. Well, it wasn’t helping her attitude for today.

“I made this mess, and I need to fix this.” She said again, looking around at the distressed room of teachers.

“Okay, but fix this how? Gregory asked her. “It seems very outside of your skill set. You should probably just wait for somebody to get to it—.” He tried to reiterate what Barbra had been saying all along and Janine was not having it.

“I don’t want to wait for someone to get to it!” Janine hissed. “You know, our children have needs that deserve to be met. And I’m going to fix this. Nothing is going to get in my way.” She said determined.

“What if you have to climb another ladder?” Gregory finally asked. “Those seem very tricky for you.”

“No.” That was all Janie gave him. “Not today.

Sometime later, the bell rang, signaling to everyone that it was much time.

“Aren’t you going to lunch, Janine?” Melissa asked as she, Barbra, Gregory, and Naoya made their way to the gymnasium doors.

“Uh, no, I’m actually gonna stay and help the lunch ladies with lunch.” The shorter woman tried to find a reasonable excuse.

“The lunch ladies don’t like you, Janine. They never say hello back.” Naoya said, crossing her arms as she looked at the woman across from her. “So, is that what you’re really doing?”

“Yes!” She answered. “And maybe trying to get the lights back on.” She rushed out at the end, hoping no one heard. At that, the two older women groaned.

“Would you give that a rest?” Melissa started. What do you want? To make the whole school blow up?”

“No!” The woman said as she folded her arms. “Plus, I can’t. Luckily the school was built as a bomb shelter in WWII, so…”

“Let it go.” Barbra practically begged the girl before her before she and the rest of the teachers started walking away.

“Okay, I will.” The woman told them, watching them exit. She and Gregory held long eye contact, both knowing the truth deep down. After they were gone, Janine looked back down at her phone, not paying attention to her friends next to her.

“You’re not gonna let it go, are you?” Jacob spoke up.

“No, I’m not gonna let it go, Jacob, okay?” She said, giving the two of them a look. “I need to right my wrongs.”

“Okay, we’ll count me out.” He said, waving her off.

“I never counted you in,” Janine said to him, confused about where he got that from.

“Well, then count me in.” He restated. “Because I don’t have any lunch plans.”

“Okay.” She sighed. She then looked at the woman next to him, her purse on her shoulder. “Weren’t you going to lunch?” She asked.

“You owe me lunch, remember? Your plan backfired.” She reminded the woman from earlier with a shrug. Janine sighed, turning away from them and walking, knowing they would follow. “That’s not how bets work, Naoya. Both people have to agree.”

“That’s how my bets work and you owe me food, woman!”

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

“This is just like the one in my apartment, this is going to be easy,” Janine stated as the three of them made their way to the breaker box that was in the custodian closet. “Me and Tariq have to go in that thing like three times a month.” She said them behind her, Jacob holding the flashlight above her head.

“Maybe you should move.” The man suggested.

“Yeah. Tariq says he is “practicing” his credit score.” Janine struggled out and she pushed to get the metal box open. “Apparently 380 isn’t a good—.” She continued to struggle, her words getting lost in her. “Let me try,” Naoya said as she softly nudged the smaller woman out of the way. She gave the box a pull and the thing popped open. She turned and smiled at the two. “I loosened it,” Jannie said, trying to save face.

“Sure, Jan,” Naoya said, going back to looking in the box. “Oh..” she said, looking at the jumbled mess of wires and switches.

“Oh, no,” Janie said, looking at the same thing. “Don’t touch. Not even a little bit.” She read out loud, giving the camera a certain look. “Uh, okay. What’s that say?”

“End of the Road? It’s so hard to say goodbye?” Naoya read out loud, looking at the labels next to some of the switches. “What? Motownphil—These are Boyz II Men songs.” She deadpanned, turning to the rest of them.

“Why?” Jannie asked, moving to stand in front of the box herself.

Jacob chuckled. “It’s ironic ‘cause I’m on Bended Knee.” He joked, giving the camera a brief look. Naoya genuinely snickered while Janie just laughed awkwardly. “Heh. Okay.” She said before going back to the wires. “Oh God, why is that one hot?” Offering them a glance of concern. “Let me try this one.” She said and just a flip of a switch caused a giant spark to erupt, the trio screamed and jumped back to dodge the sparks as best as they could.

“What in the world.”

“What going on?”

Melissa and Barba exclaimed as she entered the hot and dark school building with children running around. “It’s so hot I’m gonna frizz.” Just then, Janie and Jacob came out of the appliance closet, their hair a mess from the static they endured. The three teachers who left for lunch automatically knew who the culprit for everything was.

“Janine! What did you do?!” Barbra asked, quite fed up with the younger woman. “Looking like ‘who shot John.’”

“Barbra, look, I know you told me to let it go, but I couldn’t. Jacob and Naoya—.” At that, she looked back to see where the woman was but she was nowhere to be found. “Jacob helped me open the breaker.” She was quick to accuse.

“I ran away as soon as the sparks started flying. I was looking out for myself.” The woman shrugged as she leaned against the wall next to her. “Plus, I wasn’t about to get yelled at by Barb for this whole mess.”

“It was a chance to support a strong Black woman.” The man next to her breathed out, in a state of shock, quite literally.

“The breaker?!” Melissa asked. “Janine! You can’t do this stuff! What had you come to work today and lose your mind?”

“Look, I—.” She tried to find something to say. “I just have—she gulped—I feel lightheaded.” She said as she swayed.

“Ohh, okay,” Barbra said worriedly as they all closed in on the smaller girl.

“Did you eat today, because I know you didn’t have lunch,” Melissa asked the girl worriedly.

“And you didn’t have any breakfast,” Jacob stated, his tone showing his concern for the woman’s wellbeing. Janine couldn’t even say anything, her balance was off and her mind was delirious.

“Okay, we’re losing her,” Melissa yelled, easing up on the girl. “Do I have your consent to slap you?” At that, Janine fell backward into Gregory’s arms just as Ava and Naoya rounded the corner. “There she goes,” Melissa said over the shocked screams of her colleagues. “She’s out.”

“Yall feel this heat?” Ava asked, just now seeing the sight of the woman on the floor before her. “Oh my God! She’s pale like a zombie! You know, they eat the hottest people first, let me back my tasty ass up.” Ava said, going back to where she came from down the hall. At her stupid words, Naoya was tempted to follow her but snapped out of it when she saw Janine on the floor.

“Uh, okay! I’m gonna go see if I can get some water out of the fridge. Hopefully, it’s still cold.” Naoya said before running off.

“Oh my God, my branzino!” Melissa yelled, moving to push Barb back.” “Excuse me, Barb. She’ll be okay!” She yelled as she pushed the older woman out of her way and jumped over the unconscious woman.

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

Once Janine woke up from her little coma, the coach told her that all the kids and teachers were outside. She walked out to see all of them playing in the water that was sprouting from the fire hydrants while the teachers lunged in chairs. “Oh, look who’s back in the land of the living,” Melissa said once she saw the small woman exit the school.

“Who opens the fire hydrant?” Janine asked

“Well, as Melissa would say, snitches get stitches,” Barbra said.

“It was Naoya,” Jacob whispered to his shorter friend, pointing over at said woman who was playing in the water with the children. She had her bat at her side, leaning her weight on it as she splashed the kids who came near her to throw water her way.

“That is correct.” Melissa started again. “But I am not talking to you on account of you killing my branzino.” She said, before leaning back in her seat. Barbra gave her a look and cleared her throat. Melissa looked at the woman from under her shades and sighed a little before sitting back up. Barbra then got up from her seat, allowing Janine to take it.

“So that’s it, huh?” Janine asked, looking around at the kids. “I , uh, gave it my all, passed out, and ruined the school day?”

“Oh, you tanked,” Melissa told her. “You tanked Janine. You took the whole school down with you. It was impressive.” She pressed, knowing she was pushing the woman’s buttons.

“Look, I know. I should’ve stopped. I’m sorry.” Janine sighed. “I just felt so bad when I saw that look on Melina’s face this morning.”

“You don’t think it kills us to see those faces in the morning?” Melissa asked her. “What, are we made of stone? You’re not the first person to feel things, kid. We care.”

It was silent for a moment as Janine thought over the woman’s words. “How do you and Barbra stop yourselves from caring too much if that’s a thing.”

“Because it’s the opposite.” Melissa smiled at the girl as she took off her shades. “We care so much we refuse to burn out. If we burn out, who’s here for these kids? That’s who you gotta take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, what’s with you today Nini?” Both women jumped at the sound of Naoya’s voice, while the woman just stood behind them with her bat. “You’re normally bananas, but…” She trailed off, waving at the girl's aura.

“Uh, I don’t know. Just some stuff at home, I think.” Janine shrugged with an answer.

“Oh, okay,” Melissa said with a nod. “See, that’s the other thing me and Barbra learned. All that at-home stuff—you gotta leave it at the door. Otherwise, you open up a whole nother Panera’s box of problems.”

“I think you mean Pandora’s box,” Naoya told the woman sitting in front of her.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure it’s Panera’s box.” She nodded, while Janine and Naoya both gave the camera a look.

Later on that day, Naoya was in her room in the process of changing the clothes she had on into some that she kept in her closet. She enjoyed playing in the water with the kids but she was not going to go home wet. As she was in the process of changing, she got a phone call. Looking down at her phone, she saw the contact and quickly answered the phone.

“Hello, Adona.” The girl sighed into the phone as she pulled a new shirt over her head.

“Oh, well don’t sound so pleased.” The feminine voice over the phone said to her. Naoya rolled her eyes, as she opened the drawer of her desk and pulled out a plastic store bag. She offered the camera a glance, knowing they were probably thinking as to why she kept so many plastic bags in her drawer. But all she could offer them now was a shrug as the voice over the phone continued.

“Anyways, how are you?”

“What do you want, Adona?” Naoya spat, stuffing her semi-wet clothes into the plastic bag.

“What? I can’t see how my own sister is doing?” The woman said over the phone, the hurt in their voice obviously sarcastic.

“No, but I know you. And I know that you only call when you need money. Money for something other than your child.” The younger girl snapped over the phone. All she got in response was a sigh and some shuffling from the other end.

“You know, you don't have to rub it in.” Adona started, and Naoya rolled her eyes at the woman’s words, knowing this conversation was about to go to the argument they always had. “This all would have been so much easier if the rest of us weren’t left out of her will.”

“That’s not my fucking fault, Adona. I tell you that every time you call. Do you think I want the burden of you and the others calling me every month for some fucking bill for me to pay? Not to ask how I’m doing?” Naoya spat at her sister over the phone. She could feel her eyes start to sting, she was never the best at arguing when it came to her family. She’d been called sensitive all her life and it rang true every time she talked to her siblings.

“ “The others”? That’s what you call us? You’re family?” That was all Adona could say back. Naoya rolled her eyes and let out a scoff, pulling the phone away from her face as she sniffed and held her head back, trying to stop her tear flow. After only a few quick seconds, she brought the phone back to her face. “Uh, I can already see where this is going, so I’m gonna end it here. Just send the amount and I’ll talk to you some other time. Take care.” She said before pressing the red button on her screen to end the call.

She placed her phone in her back pocket and moved around her room to gather her things, trying her best to occupy her mind from what just ensued. She was so in her head that she forgot the cameras were there. And she didn’t hear the voice of Gregory at her door.

“Naoya?” He called out to her.

She looked up at the sound of his voice as she placed her things into her bag. “Oh, Hello Gregory.” She smiled, her face showing none of the emotions she was feeling.

“You’ve eaten?” He asked, just standing in the doorway of her classroom.

“Uh, no, actually. Janine was supposed to buy me lunch because I bet that her plan would backfire.” The woman said as she placed her things in her arms. At that, Gregory gave her a questioning look. Naoya raised her hands in surrender. “I know, I sound like a terrible friend. But it’s not that I don’t believe in Janine, I just know how to black a bet. Get it from my father.” The girl shrugged. She and Gregory both laughed lightly. And when it died down, they just started at one another, the air between them oddly peaceful.

“But, uh, are you offering?” She asked, looking at the man before her.

“Uh, yeah. I was going to ask Janine too.” He said, pointing his thumb in the direction of the said woman’s room.

“Cool! Let’s go.” She said with a genuine smile, causing the man to smile at her as well. They walked out and over to Janine’s room, where it looked like the woman was doing something on her phone. Gregory knocked on her door to get her attention. “Hey.” He said.

“Hey,” Jaimie said, looking at the two.

“Have you eaten?” He asked.

“Oh. No. The um, lunch lady gave me that can of peaches but no can opener, so, no.” She chuckled, pointing at the can on her desk.

“What? No fair! You’re so lucky. Well, besides the whole can opener situation. ” Naoya said jokingly.

“Alright, we’ll, you wanna go get something to eat? With me?” Gregory said before Naoya lightly cleared her throat. “With us?” Gregory was quick to reiterate. Naoya nodded, offering the slightly flustered older man a brief look.

“Oh,” Janine said, looking between the two. “I was gonna wait for my boyfriend to finish his show to eat…” She said. Naoya nodded at her words, understanding where she was coming from. Well, understanding as best as she could because she’d never wait to eat for a man. But maybe that was love. She caught the way Gregory’s posture changed at Janin’s words out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t say anything but she did give me a crazy side-eye, hoping he noticed.

“But…no.” The shorter woman started back up with a laugh. “I’m hungry now, so I should eat now, right?”

“That’s typically how hunger works, yeah.” Gregory played along.

“Right! Normal people eat at normal times, like…4:00.” She said, pointing over at the clock on her wall.

“Yeah. All true.” Gregory said with a nod before smiling. “So, let’s go eat.”

“Let’s. Okay.” Janine said with an equally large smile before moving to grab her things. At that, Naoya turned around to head out the door, not wanting to be in the middle of an obvious love fest. She gave the cameras outside a knowing look, a large smirk on her face.

Seconds later, the two of them walked out of the room, Naoya joining them to go down the hall. On their way, they ended up meeting Jacob.

“Oh, hey guys, what up?” The man said.

“We’re just headed to get something to eat,” Gregory answered.

“Oh, great, I’ll join.” The man just inserted himself, not catching the looks thrown his way by the three. “After school crew.” He continued.

“Ooh, “After School Crew.” I like that.” Janine smiled. They all ended up stopping at the lights coming on within the school. They looked over to see Mr.Johnson in the supply closet, standing next to the breaker machine in his fishing gear.

“You touch the lights, didn’t you, Janine?” He asked, shooting an accusatory look the woman’s way.

“Yes,” Janine answered with a defeated look.

“Good thing I got me a system.” The man told her, flicking the breaker box closed. “I’ll make love to you. Like you want me to.” He continued to sing. This caused them to all sigh and continue walking. Naoya stayed behind, a fond smile on her lips as she watched the old man. When he caught the sight of the woman still there, he paused and looked at her.

“You have a good fishing trip?” She asked the man, crossing her arms over another. The man looked at the girl kind of shocked that she asked and that she knew.

“Yeah. Yeah, I actually did.” He said, offering her a smile of his own. Naoya nodded at his words before walking away, following the crew that left her. Mr.Johnson looked at the spot she left, a fond smile on his face as she continued to sing the song.

136 notes · View notes

askponyboymcurtis · 2 months ago

Note

pony it's just a picture !!! honest i thought you'd like it ! ☹️

look, I'll give it back to soda or something, i swear no one peeked at it exceptformaybetwobitandsomegirlsatthedxandmaybetheylaughedabitbut i PROMISE ... IT DIDN'T GO NOWHERE !!

nowhere except for my pocket obviously — and i gave it right back to u so uh !!! yeah !!!

i'm awful sorry if i embarrassed you, silly guy !!! hehehe

Pony stares at the note. His jaw is on the floor. On the bed, tucked under the blanket to avoid any more prying eyes, was the oh so hated picture.

"Girls saw it? Like, real life girls? Real girls? Who could probably go to my school?"

"And Two-bit?"

He groans, pulling his cheeks down in an, admittedly dramatic, motion of defeat. "I ain't never gonna hear the end of this. He's gonna be brutal." There's a moment where he sits and just stares at the floor before he shakes his head, pushing himself off of his bed.

Grabbing his jacket from his desk chair, he digs through the pockets for his cigarettes. He pulls out the box and opens it up, only to find a distinct lack of cancer sticks.

"Just my dang luck."

He throws his jacket over his shoulders and shoves his converse onto his feet before making his way out of the house. Both of his brothers were working (Darry, as always. It was like he was seeing him less and less as time went on) which meant Pony was free to leave the house as he pleased.

Walking through the streets of the East side, Pony's hands were shoved in the pockets of his pants. His head was kept down, his feet scuffing against the concrete. There was a part of him that was trying to keep himself small. The amount of greasers getting jumped was going up by the day, and Pony didn't want to be the next name added to the list.

After a long while of walking, he stopped in front of a familiar house. He doesn't bother knocking, letting himself into the Shepard House and calling out: "Curly? You here?"

He waits. After a moment or so passes, he tries again. "Tim?"

And that warrants a response. "Who's there?" He hears Tim yell from another room, assumedly his bedroom.

" 'S Pony."

"What's good, Pony?"

"Curly here?"

"Think he's in his room."

"He awake?"

"The hell would I know?"

"Good point. Thanks, Tim," Pony waits for a response. Which does not come. After a second, he makes his way into Curly's room. Opening the door, his nose is immediately attacked with the smell of herbal smoke. He coughs as he breathes it in, waving the smoke out of his face.

"Pone! What're you doin' here, ain't 'ya supposed to be at school, or somethin'?"

"It's five pm, Curly, school ended awhile ago."

"Tuff." He takes a long drag of the blunt in his hand.

"Yep. Tuff." He nods in agreement, taking the spot next to Curly on his bed.

Curly's room was messy. Shirts and socks on the floor, a guitar shoved into the corner, sheets of paper strewn about. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not for Curly. The only difference from normal was the grey smog collecting near the ceiling.

"Jesus, Curly, you're hotboxing yourself in here," He begins, only to be met by the boy blowing smoke into his face. Pony can't help but snicker in response. "Ay, ay! Quit it!"

He's greeted with a sly grin when he opens his eyes. Curly blows the rest of the smoke off to the side. "What got you comin' 'round here, today, Pone?"

"Ran outta cigarettes. Was hopin' you'd have some."

"Cigarettes?" There's a brief pause from Curly. "Nah. Don't got any, gave my last one to Tim a while 'go."

"Dang." He scratches his wrist uncomfortably, sputtering his lips. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Don't got a stash anywhere?"

"I don't got a stash no where."

"Could you ch--"

"I don't got no cigarettes, Pone." He says firmly, Pony's eyes darting away from Curly's with a small "sorry." His eyes stay firmly on Pony, before decidedly holding the blunt out to his friend.

He looks at it. "Nah. I don't like weed."

"It's better than not smokin', ain't it?"

He pauses. "Guess so."

"You can just chill out here 'til the high wears off. Your brothers don't gotta know."

"True, that." His hand darts out. He takes the blunt into his hand, taking a long puff and blowing it out.

For the next however long, they pass the blunt back and forth.

The letter is found back in the mailbox that night, the note on the back having written:

"ples dont shoow anyonre alese i will cry annd neevr beseen ever again thankm you"

-- pj 65

#hi aracde i took this as an opportunit to yap my bad #curly is a stoner btw #ive mentioned it in past posts but you know damn well he is a stoner #pony is NOT used to being high #dpne it once before and hated it #but he lowk addicted to cigarettes #curly shepard #ponyboy curtis #ask ponyboy curtis #ask blog #tim shepard

35 notes · View notes

nogenderbee · 9 months ago

Text

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝔸𝕤𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕪 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @stellas-starry-stories13 request: reqs are still open????

damn bro

did you like increase the amount of reqs or smth

Anyway

akito, toya, and rui with a gf who can sing rlly good but she doesnt think so and like they basically have to convince her she has talent

ty pookie

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Kinda yeah hihi I usually do 10 and this time I did 15 >:D Anyway hope you don't mind the fact I made it little oneshot hihi 🤭

Anyway I had a bit of fun here so I really hope you'll also like it!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff, TW: small swear in Akito part

Akito came over to the playground the two of you were often meeting up. He saw you using this time to practice so he quietly walked closer and closer behind you. He didn't wanted to be creepy but also knew if you hears him, you'd stop singing... And can you really blame him for just wanting to enjoy the beautiful melody?

"Goddamn why the high note..."

He could hear you complain to yourself... and just by the way you couldn't reach the high note, he could hear your voice was most definitely strained...

"Don't. You'll make your vocal cords worse."

"A-Akito?! When did you got here?!"

"Just a while ago. Here."

He replied shortly an just reached out his right hand holding bottle of water for you to take.

"Take it easy."

"Eh... I seriously want to learn how to sing finally..."

"You're already great at singing, don't bullshit me. I'll shut up your mouth myself if I'll have to. You're literally one of the best singers I know so don't damage your throat like that."

He said a bit done with how self conscious you seem to be about your singing, when he's admiring it every time he hears your voice! It's him who's supposed to be jealous of the other's talent here, not you!

He only furrowed his eyebrows more and crossed his arms when he saw how unconvinced you looked. With small sigh he realized there might be just one way for you to listen to him...

"You're... actually my idol, believe it or not..."

"I... am... what...?"

You stops there just looking at each other in silence, you trying to figure out if he's serious, while he tries to nad faint from emberassment.

"Let's get this date going. What was it? Cafe?"

He said standing up straight and turning towards exit of the playground, thinking he found great excuse to forget about what he said and takw your attention somewhere else.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @miya-akane @hayillaaaaaaa @stellas-starry-stories13 @hakulivesformusic @luhvashh @akiritoz @sucodelaranja86 @aluvslink - come get your pancakes lover!

Toya thought it's gonna be a normal home date for you! He casually rang on your doorbell, hoping for you to answer, but when he was on 5th ring, you didn't answer the door or any of his phonecalls... he got seriously worried... So he used the spare keys you gave him in case of an emergency and opened the door for himself.

"Y/N? I'm sorry for barging in like this but... you didn't answer and I'm really worried now... Are you alright? Did something happen?"

He slowly walked into house, raising his voice ever so slightly to make his presence known. His legs slowly lead him to your room... he also gave a little knock on the door once he arrived, but he was a little hesitant when he heard you were apparently... listening to his groups song?

After few minutes you opened the door for him a little bit surprised. But before you could even said anything, he quickly explained himself, not wanting you to have any bad suspicions about him.

"You weren't answering at doorbell or my phone calls... I got worried and used the spare keys. I'm sorry..."

"No, no... it's my fault for listening to music too loudly..."

He looked over at your computer screen and noticed the song named "Aun no Beats", covered by Vivid BAD SQUAD. His first thought was that you might be having negative thoughts about yourself again, but he didn't wanted to jump into conclusions... so he decided to ask first.

"May I ask why were you listening to my groups song?"

"I just... you sound really nice in that cover! And... I just wanted to... enjoy it?"

It was clear lie to him. Now he was sure you were doubting your singing talent again, so he swiftly took your hands into his and placed a soft kiss on it's back, not hiding with his words he knows true reason behind your actions.

"You're amazing singer, my dear... Every time I hear your voice, it feels like my voice is being blessed by an angel... You're incredible at what you're doing, trust me."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @miya-akane @toyaslove @stellas-starry-stories13 @sucodelaranja86 - come get your cookie lover!

Since Rui has practice with his group today and you were free, and he didn't wanted to leave you alone... he invited you to join! He honestly didn't mind you wanted to sit in audience~ Everyone have their preferences after all!

But nonetheless, he still kept a close eye on you when he performed... and he was glad he did because he noticed that look in your eyes that told him everything. The way you were sadly looking at the current singer... the way your face turned into a frown during someone's higher notes... he could tell you were thinking about your own talent not being enough again...

So the first chance he got, he approaches you sneakily and surprised you with sudden hug! He tried to appear cheerful to not let you know he figures you out, so you wouldn't turn to defensive mode.

"How's my pretty singer doing~?"

"Oh- uh... I'm good! But I wouldn't say I'm-"

"Yes, you are... You're great singer, darling. Please don't doubt yourself..."

In the end he can't hold back the honesty... he just finds it so hard to believe, how someone as amazing as you doesn't see what an amazing person they actually are...

"Just trust me on this one! It's not any plan or trick, I promise on RoboNene!"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @superstar-ethereal @stellas-starry-stories13 @alicewinterway18 @hakulivesformusic @sucodelaranja86 @sillykana-13 @aluvslink - come get your crazy inventor~

85 notes · View notes

henrioo · 2 years ago

Text

°•*⁀➷ TWO AGAINST ONE: PORTGAS D. ACE

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Ace makes the mistake of eating one of your pregnant husband's sweets, you, now he needs to somehow earn her forgiveness. However, it seems that in this dispute, your son has already chosen who his favorite father will be."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : TRANS MALE READER, FTM READER, TRANS MASC READER, PREGNANT MALE READER, MEN PREGNANT, BIOLOGICAL PREGNANCY, GAY RELATIONSHIP, Reader is a little dramatic, pregnancy dramas, unnamed baby but is a boy, Ace and you are married, Ace is a golden retriever and you're mean to him (just a little), Ace is a perfect dad and husband

꒰ WC ꒱ : 917

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : Wow, more babies! Hahah who would have thought... Okay I wanted to say that it's the last baby story but it's not, At least next time I'll try to post another topic or you'd start to think I'm weird. The post was supposed to be yesterday and it was also supposed to be a late ask, but the ask is 7k words long and I'm having a serious problem translating it, so I'm going to post this other story today so I can have more time, enjoy!

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

"Love, honey, my husband, my man, my sweet, forgive me." Your husband, Ace, whimpered beside you as you lay on the reclining sofa, covered in pillows and with a soft blanket over your huge belly. You had an irritated expression and crossed arms, purposely ignoring him and pretending to pay attention to the television.

"I'm not talking to you," you snorted irritably, and if your feet weren't swollen and your legs weren't aching, you would have kicked his ass out of the house.

"I swear, I didn't know it was your chocolate! I thought it was mine... I'm sorry, my love," he was kneeling on the sofa next to you, his hands clasped together begging for forgiveness, and his puppy eyes were so sad that anyone would have accepted his apologies.

Anyone, except you. No, no, you were a pregnant man dealing with a very active baby and hormones so out of whack that you seemed like a ticking time bomb. You definitely wouldn't forgive your husband for eating the last of your chocolate stash. Especially because it was Sunday! The store that sold your favorite, expensive, artisanal chocolate only opened on Tuesdays. You would have to go two days without your chocolate because of your husband's stupidity in not checking who the chocolate belonged to before swallowing it!

Okay, you weren't exactly craving chocolate in the past few days, and that one had been stored for a long time... But that doesn't change the fact that he shouldn't have eaten it!

"I swear I'll buy the whole store for you to forgive me! Please, don't pout at me like that," he whined again as he lovingly rubbed your arm. Ace hated hurting you, no matter how small the reason. Now that you were pregnant, he tried his best to make you live in paradise, as he was extremely worried when he found out that stress could cause serious complications in pregnancy. Although Marco and Law tried to explain that it had to be an absurd amount of stress, he practically didn't listen and accepted as an absolute truth that even the smallest amount of stress was a deadly risk for you and the baby!

"I hate you," you murmured irritably, and your frustrated pout grew. You didn't like arguing with Ace and usually didn't care so much about something like this, but those damn hormones made you go crazy. One moment you were crying, and the next you were trying to set the house on fire with Ace inside. Then, you would go back to normal as if everything were fine. You could only think that this was Ace's punishment for taking so long to propose to you.

"What can I do to make you forgive me, my king?" he sighed and sat closer to you, kissing your arm and then trying to kiss your cheek, which resulted in you moving away. "You're breaking your poor husband's heart."

"I'll ask for a divorce if you keep annoying me," you said, trying to stay strong, although you were almost giving up on arguing and just getting lost in Ace's warm embrace.

"Ouch... So cruel," he whimpered and carefully laid on your belly, then gently stroked it, giving kisses on the shirt you were wearing. "Come on, little guy, help your old man make peace with your daddy. He'll put me to sleep on the couch if he stays like this," he whimpered, trying to get help from his unborn child.

Before you could reprimand Ace again, a kick was felt by both of you... Your baby had just kicked exactly where Ace's head was, making him startle and jump from the slight blow he received, causing both of you to widen your eyes in shock.

"Our son just kicked me?" he asked, confused and incredulous about the situation.

"Humph, looks like it's two against one now," you smiled triumphantly as you caressed your belly. "Our son is smart, he knows that this daddy here is the only one whose right," you continued teasing Ace, already feeling your mood improve and the anger dissipating.

"This is unfair! The two men in my life are ganging up against me!" he crossed his arms with a pouting expression.

"Think twice before eating my sweets next time," you shrugged. "You heard the baby, today Daddy Ace sleeps on the couch," you laughed, feeling some gentle kicks from your baby, as if he really agreed with you.

"This little rascal will have to deal with me when he's born... Stealing my husband, I was here before you," he muttered childishly as he glared at your belly. "And you, mister grumpy husband, I'm going to squeeze and kiss you until you're forced to forgive me! And if you try to kick me out of our room, I'll cry at the door like a stray dog," Ace made his threat, and before you could disagree, he threw himself on top of you, covering your face with kisses as he hugged you tightly. All you could do was laugh, feeling ticklish from his kisses. You didn't usually get mad at your husband so often, but if it meant having him as a repentant little puppy trying to win your forgiveness through affection and love... Maybe you would start getting mad more often, especially if your son would help you.

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

278 notes · View notes

vyainide · 7 months ago

Note

vyon vyon vyon i'll kiss the ground you walk if you drop an ino fluff fic/smau 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 or or anything silly and goofy about luffy cause i've started to enjoy anything and everything you put out about that silly guy despite knowing nothing about him

[ honestly i would read whatever you put out like i'm starving 🍰 ]

ㅤa boudoir's actㅤ𓏵ྀིྀི ㅤsynopsis. taking care of you whilst you're drunk｡ྀㅤ,ㅤ⸻ ino/luffy x 𝓰n!readerㅤᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ㅤ~𝟫𝟢𝟢&𝟪𝟢𝟢𝗐𝖼ㅤfluff. crack. alcohol mention. swearing. not beta'd. ｡ 𖦹° ㅤ︶ིྀᩧ1864libㅤ ﹏ got a vision you want to come alive? see me here . . . !

❛ extras.ㅤ┆ㅤshe said do whatever you want as long as i see ino/luffy and i took it and ran, ik you said or but why would i ever pass up the chance to write about luffy? muahmuah, thank you for requesting, i still dk what the hell fluff is but i hope this was sweet and funny and silly enough 🎀

your cheeks are unbearably warm under his palms; it's been a while since ino's felt this stressed considering he killed what one could pin as a magical creature for a living. the bulb of the bathroom light is a stark white— which he thinks only psychopaths have, a warm yellow bulb is so much better, so he'll be promptly ghosting whoever's apartment this was after the night passes. he's got you inside the bathtub, your shoes discarded beside him, any layers that could be taken off gone and your hair pushed out of your face haphazardly; like a normal person, you'd complained about the light making your headache worse so he'd also pulled the shower curtain halfway across the tub.

“hey,” he pats at your cheek, stern and demanding. “don't fall asleep. c'mon.” your head rolls over to your shoulder, a small groan on your lips, but your eyes don't open.

instead, your hand moves upwards from your lap blindly and you paw around until you feel his face, pushing him away. “shushhhhh,” you slur, shaking your head back and forth. “loud.” you tut, pointing your index finger upwards before shaking it in front of ino.

some shitty marshmello remix forces itself into the intimacy of the small bubble of the moment. ino's knee hurts with how he's knelt down beside the bathtub to take care of you; one moment, he was offering you a can of whatever he picked up first and the next, you'd been roped into a drinking game to defend his honour. he's not exactly sure how you'd been protecting it really, but you'd reiterated you “got his back, princess” far too many times whilst he was hauling you somewhere private— and well, what was he going to do but believe you?

he catches your finger as it wags annoyingly in his face and rolls his eyes. “you're a mess.” he sighs, dropping your finger when it starts wriggling in his palm and you make groans of protest. shuffling forward, he reaches out a hand and brushed back the hair from your face as your head hangs forward. “seriously, you can't fall asleep here.”

you make a noise at that. your head limply hangs on your neck, your back curved over your lap and your legs stretched out inside the porcelain tub. suddenly, your head shoots up and ino's hand turns back in surprise at the start. “where,” you press your lips together, swallowing something down, “where is…”

“we're at a party,” ino supplied before you can finish, hand dropping down to your shoulder, thumb rubbing against the skin tenderly.

you clap your hand over your sternum before a small burp escapes your mouth, then your eyes move scrutinising over ino. “nuh–uh,” you hit his hand away from you, “my boyfriend, where is he?”

ino's stuck between amusement and exasperation. your eyes struggle to stay open, blinking slowly around a shitty blinding light, lips pursed— then you turn and grip ino's hair with both your hands when he takes an unsatisfactory amount of time to answer. “m–my boyfriend,” you hiccuped, “came here with him ‘nd, and, he's real pretty, like a princess.”

ino can barely focus on the words you're saying, flattered rightfully when you say he's pretty like a princess but then you grip his hair and pull with the strength and intent of mimicking some medieval torture device. his hisses and winces of pain are unheard.

“he has,” you sniff, “reallllll good hair, like— mmmm, shampoo commonenurcial hair.” commonenurcial? then your fingers loosen around his hair and you pat your hand down against his scalp. “like your hair— congratulations,” you nod your head, drunkenly as ino rubs his aching scalp with a hand. “your hair is jus’ nearly as good as my princess’.”

you clap your hand against his head a final time, laughing for some reason that only a drunk person would understand. with a yawn, you slump back against the tub.

ino sighs, “i am your boyfriend.”

you shoot up so quickly that your head slammed into ino's. making a cry of pain, you pressed the butt of your palm over your forehead and lean back. “domestics! i— i want a divorce! how could you hit me?”

“i didn't—” ino winces, stretching upwards to hover over you. “here, lemme see.” he tries to pry away your hand but you're stubborn and still drunk, crying about a divorce and how his beautiful hair was probably a wig.

someone knocked on the door, demanding and obnoxious. “hey! people need to piss, man!”

sighing, ino turns his attention back to you. there was no way you were going to let him carry you out right now, suddenly acting a divorce lawyer with the script of a priest officiating a marriage.

“do you take this man to be your lawfully divorced ex–husband?” the knocking comes back again, forceful and louder than before and it makes you wince in the midst of roleplaying with yourself.

ino takes off his shoe and throws it at the door, “suck your fucking ma! dickhead, i'm taking a shit.”

the knocking stops. “sorry.”

then, he turns back to you, already looking up at him with a brightness in your eyes. your lashes flutter against your cheek, lips wet; he settles on the edge of the tub, turning himself towards you. you settle your head on his thigh, sighing dreamily to yourself. “my knight in shining armour.” you declare him and— wow, your standards of a knight were low. all he did was tell a man he was taking a shit to make him fuck off, but whatever.

his hand falls onto your head and his fingers turned down to tap against your cheek. he'll wait for you to sober up before he never lets you live this down.

panicking, he turns his head left to right, left to right, left to right before he gets resolutely dizzy and the food he'd just stuffed into his mouth threatens to crawl upwards. luffy has never been more exhausted in his life. nami, who'd passed him earlier as he was chasing after you, had declared it karma and she clapped her hands together to thank god— which was stupid ‘cause he'd beaten up god on skypeia, but maybe she was so traumatised that she forgot about it. robin told him that could happen.

luffy grabs ahold of a random partygoer, hands on their shoulder as he takes a few steps back, using them as leverage to send himself forward and up; when he sees a familiar head of hair, his arm stretches out for them and he pulls himself down, tumbling right into zoro. he gets a faceful of whatever alcohol his swordsman was nursing and then a strong punch for wasting his alcohol. “zoroooo,” he whines, hands on his head, “have you seen—”

zoro flatly jabs an angry thumb to the left where you were stood, arms looped around the heart's navigator with a wide grin. he shoots up, “thanks zoro!” and his arm navigates through the crowd to pluck an entire glass bottle of whatever out of someone's hands and shoving it into zoro's lap.

then, he's running full speed at you and the mink. “hey! bear! let go!”

bepo makes a noise of confusion, you're the one clinging onto him; his hands have maintained a very respectful distance in their raise of surrender from you. “sorry.” he says, regardless.

“hey!” strawhat continues yelling at him anyways.

bepo raises his arms further up, straightening them in the air. “i'm sorry.” he apologises once more as luffy skids to a halt in front of the bear.

“let ‘em go!” he demanded.

bepo stretched his paws upwards, “i'm sorry!”

“can't you see that your crewmate is the one clinging to my navigator, mugiwara–ya?” luffy snaps his head back and forth until he finds law, tucked away in a corner with a judgemental look on his face, unimpressed. he shifts his nodachi onto his shoulder as he kicks off the tree he was leaning on.

luffy's face soured, turning back to look at you— obviously wrapping onto a very unwilling bepo and rubbing your face against his warm fur. “nuh–uh!” he says, tone dripping with indignation.

the heart captain growls in frustration, abandoning all faux grip on a cool facade (like he usually does with luffy) and stomps up to him. “the hell d'you mean? look at them!” he points at you cuddling into his navigator with weight.

luffy looks at you a little more closely. your fingers fisted around bepo's fur and you lean your head back from his chest every few seconds to gasp for air before shoving your face back into his warmth.

frustrated for reasons he can't quite formulate, luffy points an angry finger at law. “you can't have my nakama! get your own! give ‘em back!”

bepo interjects with another apology that he gets shouted at for by both captains. “no one wants your psychotic nakama! room!” his palm opens, and then he shifts his wrist, open palm facing the sky, “shambles!” his words punctuated by his actions.

you teleport from bepo's warmth to luffy's back, the cape he'd been wearing swapped for you; law picks up the cape and pathetically throws it at luffy before grabbing onto his navigator and running away before he gets roped up into something more dumb.

luffy's arms wrap around your thighs before you fall. in seeking warmth, you shiver closer to luffy and your arms fall around his shoulders; the boy grinned, satisfied, and then stretched out his neck long enough to be able to turn his head back to look at you. “hide'n'seek over,” he declared, “no more, m'tired. got it?”

it doesn't seem like you do got it, but the fact that you look close enough to knocked out satisfies him enough to start laughing.

for a few moments more, he watches you quietly. a nearby campfire pulls a veil of ember hues over each feature, careful in its separation of glow and shadow; the mischief on your face earlier as you made a game out of finding a new crew after luffy had snuck a piece of your food washed out for a quiet tire.

your eyes slowly open, droopy with alcohol as you slowly blinked at luffy.

“hi,” he gives you a grin, moving his forehead to rest it against yours. the deceptive warmth of flames coloured over your cheeks burns him alive.

your eyes lighten to consciousness with every blink until you're reeling back. you look at luffy's stretched out neck and then luffy, then his neck, then luffy— you scream. scrambling off of him, you shout for zoro, telling him to protect you from the weird octopus sea king.

luffy follows after you closely. for some reason, he keeps his neck stretched out, searching for you with his head and having his body follow after. “hey!” he cried out, “what a mean thing to say! you can't say that about your captain!”

51 notes · View notes

crybabyddl · 7 months ago

Text

Black Coffee

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Chapter One

Warning: swearing, meet-cute, awkwardness, modern au, coffee shop au

Author's Note: Hi. it's been a while. I started typing this up on AO3, then accidentally closed the tab and lost it all. But I got so attached that I decided it was worth rewriting. The POV will change between the reader and Eddie. ALSO!! Eddie has parents in this fic. Okay, enjoy!

Next Chapter

----

I had thirty minutes until my lunch break. I decided to do the daily crossword on my phone to pass the time. Winter was the town's "off season", so I basically got paid to just be on my phone for eight hours, making a coffee here and there for the regulars and occasional tourists that managed to stumble upon our secluded café. If there was one thing I could depend on, it's that no matter how slow business was, there'd always be at least one person in need of caffeine, and that was enough for me.

I was on a roll, solving a bunch of the crossword clues when I saw a figure entering the shop out of the corner of my eye. I put my phone in my back pocket before picking up the stylus I used to tap on the register's screen.

I look up to see a tall man wearing black jeans, a leather jacket, and combat boots. His fingers are adorned with several rings and his pinkies are coated in black polish. This guy looks like he came straight off my "dream man" pinterest board. He's got long, curly brown hair that I was honestly jealous of.

"Hello!" I said in the sing-songy voice I use to greet customers. I felt my face heating up, and it only grew warmer once he looked up at me.

Holy shit, he's gorgeous.

"Hey, how's it going?" the man replies with a small, closed-mouth smile.

"Not too bad, what about you?"

"I'll be better once I get some coffee in my system, but other than that I'm doing alright."

"Just a regular coffee?"

"Yup. Small, black coffee."

"You got it," I reply, punching in the order on the register before grabbing a twelve ounce cup and fitting it into a sleeve. I turn to fill the cup and can't help but mouth an "oh my god" to myself at how beautiful this man is.

After filling the cup, I take a lid and press it firmly onto the cup to ensure it's secure. "Here you are." I say as I place the coffee on the counter in front of him.

"Thanks," he pulls out his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

"Comes out to three dollars."

"Is that how much a black coffee is these days?" His brows furrow, but the look and lopsided grin he gives me tell me his words are lighthearted.

"Don't look at me, I don't make the prices!" I put my hands up in fake surrender. "Cash or card?"

"Card."

"Okay,"

I tap the icon on the screen that authorizes cashless payment and the man taps his card on the chip reader. I grab a pen, clicking it open before taking the receipt from the printer. "I just need you to sign this for me please."

"Alrighty," he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, and I caught a glimpse of his stomach as his shirt rose to reveal his happy trail. Was it weird to be attracted to someone's abdomen?

I place the pen and receipt in front of him, watching his hair cover the sides of his face as he leans over to scrawl his signature. Once he finishes, he unclicks the pen, handing it and the receipt back to me. "There you go, thanks again."

"Thank you, have a good one!"

"You too!" he called over his shoulder.

I feel my own shoulders relax once he's out of sight. I exhale a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I glance down at the receipt and notice the signature at the bottom. His name is Eddie. I mentally sighed. A cute name for a handsome stranger I'd never see again. My eyes flicked over to the tip. Damn, three dollars. That could mean one or more of the following:

He also works in food service and therefore understands the struggle and knows how to tip well.

He's rich and always tips the amount of the check

He thought I was cute too and tipped me nicely as a form of flattery.

He's just a normal person who gave a nice tip for no specific reason.

I knew option four was the most likely, but I allowed myself to enjoy the idea of option 3.

During my lunch break, I couldn't help but think about Eddie. I knew it was wrong to romanticize a single interaction with a stranger, but I figured it was okay since I'd never see him again. What wasn't okay was me picturing him shirtless. Hey, it wasn't often that a cute guy my age came into the café, since most people went to a different coffee shop that'd been around longer. Plus, I've been single for a few months and my sex drive has been practically nonexistent. I'd be foolish to not take advantage of the eye candy.

----

I wasn't expecting to pay three dollars for a small black coffee, but after taking a sip, I decided it was worth it. To be fair, anything was better than the watered down crap I got yesterday after returning the U-Haul, but this shit was good. I wasn't sure how I'd like my new hometown, but things were off to a good start. I found a place to get coffee, and a cute barista to make it for me.

The next thing on my list for the day was unpacking my stuff in my new apartment. I took another swig of my coffee at that thought, knowing it would be a long road to settling in. After unloading just the essentials in the kitchen and the bathroom, I decided to get serious. If I ever wanted to fully move in, I needed to pick one room to completely unpack. I figured I'd start with the most important room, the bedroom.

Starting with the bedroom turned out to be a mistake, as I ended up crashing as soon as I placed the mattress on the bedframe I'd just spent an hour putting together. To my credit, I drove for six hours straight yesterday and had to toss and turn on my parents' couch before giving up and having a beer while watching youtube shorts until two in the morning.

I reached for my phone and looked at the time. 6pm. I felt a pang of hunger hit my stomach. There was no way in hell I was going to cook right now. I decided to test my luck and see what my options were for takeout. This town wasn't big enough to have DoorDash or Uber Eats, so I'd have to find a restaurant, order takeout, and pick it up. I didn't mind driving honestly, I just needed something other than fast food tonight.

I ended up ordering from this Thai place around the corner, so I decided to get some fresh air and walk to the restaurant. I was able to get my food nice and easy, and thankfully had the keys to my apartment in my pocket so I had no problem getting back and enjoying my chicken massaman curry on the couch as I watched Breaking Bad for the millionth time.

----

46 notes · View notes

pupculture · 5 months ago

Text

Vampire×Human fic under the cut (both OCs)

Inspired by @vamprisms ♡ (this is just the first part)

Tags/Warnings: Vampires, bloodplay, dubcon (vampiric feeding), lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers vibes, morally gray characters, intense physical tension, and a dash of dark humor, lowkey snuff. Idek if this is dead dove don't eat, but it's really not that bad. Or I'm fucked up. Regardless, read at your own risk

No I did not edit it or reread it okay? And I wrote straight into Tumblr so no word count XD

Part Two

Look, we all lie on Tinder, right?

A few extra cms here, bit more cash there. So when I matched with Odette, I did NOT believe that she lived in a castle. Who even says that in 2025? Sure, her photos showed this sprawling gothic mansion with ivy-covered walls and actual turrets; but honestly I just thought,

Okay, she's just an eccentric goth babe who got a fancy photoshoot done.

Her description was charming but kept very vague- "Seeker of the sublime. Collector of captivating moments."- while normally I'd swipe left on someone who seems so... extra, something about her just pulled me in. Of course, it didn't hurt that she was drop-dead gorgeous, with a jawline sharp enough to cut me.

So when she messaged me (moments after the match popped up) with: "Would you care to join me for an evening you'll never forget?" I couldn't help but roll my eyes and laugh. I mean, who talks like that? But then I read it again-maybe twice-and felt a little flutter in my chest. It wasn't your standard wyd or hey beautiful, and honestly, I was intrigued. I joked back with, "Is this the part where I end up in a true crime podcast?" thinking that'd scare her off, but she replied almost instantly: "Only if it's a story worth telling." And just like that, I found myself saying yes to a first date at her castle

I swear I’m not desperate! But honestly, it had been a while. I’d just moved to this little backwoods town, and let’s just say I wasn’t pulling as well here as I did in the city. So, the next evening, I found myself on an embarrassingly long drive down a suspicious, winding road. When I finally arrived, I didn’t even need the GPS to tell me I’d reached my destination. Yes, it really was a castle. And it looked even more dramatic in person—perched on a hill and looking like something straight out of a book, complete with an unnecessarily long driveway, lined with ancient, gnarled trees. The taxi driver gave me a look as he dropped me off, like he wanted to ask if I was sure about this. But I waved him off with a confidence I absolutely did not feel, dropping the cash in his hand before stepping out.

The cold evening air bit at my cheeks as I climbed the stone steps to the massive front door, trying not to trip in my high-heeled boots. The door itself was shockingly heavy, the kind you’d probably need a medieval battering ram to break into. But before I could even knock, it swung open with an ominous creak.

And there she was. Odette stood framed in the doorway, bathed in the warm, flickering glow of what I could only describe as an alarming amount of candles.

She wore a dark, flowing dress that clung to her body just enough to leave me mildly breathless, and it swished faintly as she shifted her weight. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and down to her waist. Her lips were curved into this small, almost lazy smile, like she already knew exactly how this night was going to go. “Olivia,” she said, her voice smooth and velvety, the kind that felt like it could wrap itself around you. “You made it.”

I blinked. "Uh, actually, it's Aria."

Her smile froze for half a second before it softened again, seamless, like she was back in control. "Aria," she repeated, drawing it out like she was tasting it. "Of course. Forgive me, my mind must've wandered."

Look, I probably should’ve backed out then and there, I know. But I had already done the whole drive, and she smoothed it out so quickly it barely even registered. I hardly gave the Olivia girl a second thought—and the third was dashed from my mind immediately as her arm circled around my waist and pulled me inside.

The door closed behind me with a low, echoing thud, and before I could properly take in the ridiculous grandeur of the place, Odette’s hand rested lightly on the small of my back. “Let me show you around,” she said, her voice smooth and elegant, like this was just another ordinary Tuesday for her.

We moved down a long, dimly lit hallway lined with portraits—men and women painted in that stern, old-fashioned style, all sharp cheekbones and hollow stares. “It’s been in my family for generations,” Odette said as we walked, her tone calm and measured, like she was reciting something she’d said a thousand times before. “I suppose it’s... unconventional by modern standards, but I find it grounding.”

“Grounding,” I echoed, glancing at a particularly grim-looking woman holding a falcon. “Yeah, nothing says down-to-earth like living in a haunted castle.”

She laughed—soft, low, and completely unexpected. For a second, her face flickered with something strange, like the sound had startled her as much as it had me. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly, and she recovered so quickly I almost thought I’d imagined it. “You’re... amusing,” she said, her voice smoothing back into its refined tone.

“Just making sure you’re not a sugar mommy who rents this place to impress her dates,” I said, shrugging like I hadn't actually been wondering that.

Her lips curved into another faint smile, but she didn’t laugh again. “No, nothing so transactional,” she murmured, her gaze flicking to mine, lingering just long enough to make my skin heat. “Come, there’s more to see.”

She guided me through the house with practiced ease, barely pausing to explain the rooms—an ornate dining hall, a cavernous library, a sitting room with an enormous fireplace that I’d bet hadn’t been lit in a century. Her hand remained at my back, gentle but insistent, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t interested in showing me the house so much as getting me somewhere specific.

Finally, she stopped in front of a tall, heavy door. “And this,” she said, her voice dipping lower, “is my favorite room.”

Odette didn't bother opening the door herself. Instead, she pushed me back against it, her body pressing into mine with just enough force to make it open under our combined weight. The movement startled me, but before I could say anything, her lips were on mine. Her kiss was firm, deliberate, her hands cupping my face as if to ensure there was no escape-not that I wanted one. My breath hitched, and for a moment, all I could think was,

Well, yeah, it's a castle, but to her, it's just her house. And let's be honest, showing up at someone's house on a first date definitely screams one-night-stand .

But then her hands dragged down to my hops and coherent thought dissolved into static. I heard the door clicked shut behind her, and she didn't give me a chance to steady myself. Her body pressed me further into the room, her kiss deepening, hands firm but not rough as they guided me right where she wanted me.

Her lips left mine just long enough for me to gasp in a breath, but before I could even gather my thoughts, she leaned in again, her mouth brushing along my jawline and down to my neck. Her movements were slow, deliberate, like she was savoring the moment, and the heat of her breath sent shivers skittering down my spine. I tried to focus, my hands gripping the fabric of her dress, but the way she pressed against me made it hard. "Not wasting any time, huh?" I managed to mumble, my voice shaky but light, trying to break the tension with a little humour. Odette pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, her dark eyes flickering with something unreadable. "Why wait?" she murmured, her voice low and intoxicating. "Time is such a... fleeting thing."

For some reason, the way she said it made my chest tighten and my pussy clench, but her lips were on mine again before I could process it. She kissed me harder this time, more insistent, like she was trying to erase the space between us entirely.

I felt like I was burning, caught between her intensity and the sheer audacity of it all. This woman lives in a castle, I thought hazily. She's got antique portraits and candelabras, and here I am letting her devour me like this is the most normal thing in the world.

Before I could catch my breath, her hands slid from my waist to the backs of my thighs, and in one fluid motion, she lifted me like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around her instinctively as she carried me a few steps into the room before dropping me unceremoniously on the bed. I couldn't contain my giggle at her inexplicable strength, but it quickly died as her hand wrapped slowly around my throat.

She leaned over me, her dark hair falling like a curtain around us. She kissed me again and my head swam.

I gasped as she released my neck, only to pepper it in kisses trailing down from my jaw to the hollow of my collarbone and lower still. Her hands slid along my sides, fingers splayed, as if she wanted to map out every inch of me- occasionaly digging her long nails into my skin.

My breath came faster, ragged, and my heart was pounding so hard I swore she could feel it beneath her touch. She paused for a moment, as if enjoying something only she could sense, and then she whispered, "Is this okay?" The question caught me off guard, but her voice was so soft, so low, that I couldn't bring myself to do anything but nod. She shook her head at me, tilted it to the side, not continuing

"Yes," I breathed, though the word felt heavy in my mouth, like it carried more weight than I realized.

She smiled again, differently now, all her teeth on display and wider than I thought possible.

She moved with that same deliberate control, almost as if she were unaffected. Her hands slipped under the hem of my dress, softly pinching at my flesh until they rested on my panties. A little huff escaped her before she simply tore them off me. Every nerve in my body felt alive, thrumming under her touch. I could feel myself dripping as she glanced at the red lace in her hand and threw it aside.

Another moment and her fingers were already deep inside me. I arched into her instinctively as I felt her nails scratch my pussy, a lovely painful ache and a hiss fell from my lips. Her weight pressed me down but as her thumb pressed into my clit I felt completely weightless.

My chest rose and fell rapidly and I knew I was blushing with the speed my orgasm was building. I realised my eyes were shut and tore them open just to notice her gaze was firmly on me. An almost predatory expression as I whimpered under her and clenched around her fingers. And again she smiled.

Only to pull her fingers from me. Lick them slowly as I squeezed my eyes and held back tears and fought not to beg this women I hardly knew.

Slowly, her eyes still locked on mine, she shifted down my body. I couldn't keep the pathetic, submissive grin off my face as she softly licked her way from my inner thighs to my pussy. I gasped as she softly bit at my clit, trying to pull my thighs together before she roughly pinned them to the bed.

"Please"-

I never beg but I couldn't help it. She gave me a soft smile and licked my pussy again.

When her teeth sank into my skin, it wasn't gentle. A sharp, sudden pain shot through me, and I gasped-but the gasp turned into something else, something I didn't entirely understand. Heat pooled low in my stomach, my body reacting in ways that didn't make sense, and I couldn't stop myself from letting out a shaky, involuntary moan.

She didn't stop. Her lips pressed harder, her tongue sweeping over the bite as I felt warmth trickle down my leg. My head spun, a mix of pain, pleasure, and confusion clouding every thought. Wait... am I bleeding? I thought hazily, but the idea barely took hold before her teeth were on me again, her hunger growing more urgent.

"Odette," I managed to choke out, my voice breathless and slurred. "You-uh-you should've-asked first..." But my protest was weak, barely audible, and the way her mouth moved against my skin sent a fresh wave of sensation crashing through me.

The room blurred at the edges as my body trembled, my senses caught in a spiral of sharp pain and something dangerously close to euphoria. I clutched the sheets again, a gasp slipping out as her lips moved again- this time to my neck. The last things I felt before my vision went dark was her mouth against my skin, the faint, wet sound of her feeding, and my own pulse pounding in my ears like a drum as my orgasm hit.

Part Two

#smut #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut #vampire smut #monster smut #monster fucker #dead dove do not eat #my fic #oc fic #Odette×Aria #hornyposting #this belongs on ao3 #lesbians #lesbian vampires #lesbian #the vampire haunter

20 notes · View notes

writeforfandoms · 6 months ago

Text

Shatter Me 20

Find the series masterlist

Uh. Okay. So. I'm sure this is not what you're expecting, but trust me when I say it's going to be okay. I have A Plan.

Warnings: Emotional turmoil, little bit of abandonment, canon compliant, swearing, emotional overwhelm.

Word count: 2.4k

At Fett’s insistence, you joined him up top, settling into a seat with only a little hesitation. He wasn’t chatty, and he was harder to read than Din, at least to you. But his presence was… not quite restful. Almost soothing.

You were confident, if nothing else, Fett wouldn’t let any harm come to you. For Din’s sake, even if not for your own. That was fine. You didn’t care as much why.

And Din definitely had more friends, more pull, than you did. Which was funny, considering how he came across at first.

The blue and white of space outside lit the interior, casting odd lights on everything.

It could have just been you and your sentimentality, but… it didn’t look as nice from here. From this ship.

“Prepare to exit jumpspace,” Fett said over the comms, helmet briefly tipping your direction. You grimaced and held on tighter to the straps of your seat.

“Copy that,” Bo Katan’s voice came over the comm. “Get the hell out of there as soon as they clear us to dock. And your shots have to look convincing.”

“Power up those shields, princess. I’ll put on a good show.” You didn’t have to see him to guess at his expression. He sounded darkly amused, something that niggled in the back of your brain. A learned response to that tone, a warning to hide.

Not that you had anywhere to hide on this ship. Not that you needed to hide from him.

“Watch out for those deck cannons,” Bo Katan shot back. Something in her tone made you think she didn’t like Fett very much.

“Don’t worry about me. Just be careful in there.” Fett sounded quieter. Softer, almost. You couldn’t tell how much he was speaking to Bo Katan, or to Fennec and the others. (You guessed more to Fennec and Din, considering he already had a relationship with them.)

The ship jolted a little as it dropped out of hyperspace, and you took a deep breath. Go time.

Not that you had to do anything but hold on.

Fett didn’t waste any time, firing on the other ship. If you hadn’t known the plan, you would have thought it was real. Fett swerved to follow the ship, and your stomach swooped with the motion. You couldn’t hear what was going on in the other ship, but you did see when the first TIE fighter deployed.

“Kriff,” Fett grumbled, more to himself than you.

You glanced at him, eyes wider than normal, and swallowed hard. The plan was not to get embroiled in a real firefight.

Green flashes from behind made you clench your hands tighter around the straps. At least one TIE fighter had gotten behind you. Fett didn’t seem bothered, all his focus on the controls, even as he chased the other ship towards the Light Cruiser.

He broke off at the last moment, swerving away. The ship juddered with an impact against the shields, made worse when Fett spun the ship around to shoot the TIE fighters still following. He evened out the ship and jumped back into hyperspace.

And now you waited.

“Alright there, little one?” His tone had gentled some as he addressed you.

“Yeah,” you answered, only a little higher than normal. “I’m fine.”

He hummed softly but didn’t disagree with you. “Mechanic, huh?”

You blinked at him, surprised at the relative small talk. Then again, the two of you would be waiting for an unknown amount of time… Might as well.

“Yeah. Started when I was a kid. My dad taught me everything he knew.”

He nodded slowly, hands relaxed on the controls. “My father taught me to be a warrior,” he mused. “And left me this armor.”

“Is that why you’re helping Din?” The question left your mouth before you could think about the repercussions.

He looked at you again, assessing if you had to guess. It was hard to guess with the blank visor staring you down. “He returned my armor to me,” Fett agreed. “And I swore to him that I would see the child safely returned to him.”

You nodded slowly. It made sense, from what you’d come to know of Mandalorians through Din - they valued their armor above basically everything else. Although you had seen that Fett was willing to take his helmet off, more like the other Mandalorians you’d met what felt like ages ago.

“I started traveling with him because my sister pushed me to,” you admitted, speaking slowly. It felt good to say, even if you didn’t think Fett really cared. “He terrified me, at first. But… I’m glad I stayed.”

“Loyalty is worth more than any credits,” Fett agreed. “Especially when that loyalty goes both ways.”

You looked at him, startled, ready to object on autopilot… But he was right. Din was loyal to you, in a lot of ways you hadn’t really looked at before. Your heart swelled, warming you through.

Fett’s chuckle made you dip your head, embarrassed.

“You may as well get comfortable,” he advised. “We may be waiting a while.”

You took his advice. You didn’t leave, because you didn’t want to be taken by surprise when the call came in, but you did undo the straps on your chair. You relaxed. You listened to the ship, what you could anyway while it was semi-parked in open space.

You still wanted to get a look at the innards of the ship. Maybe if there was time after Din and Grogu came back.

After all, Din’s ship was gone, so the three of you would probably need to get a ride back to… somewhere. You weren’t sure where exactly.

You’d figure it out later. Once Din and Grogu were back with you.

Somehow, you still jumped when the comm crackled to life.

“All done here,” Fennec said from the other end. “Ready for pickup.”

“Copy that,” Fett replied, already inputting the coordinates again. “Anything I need to know about?”

“Not until you get here.” Fennec didn’t sound foreboding, exactly, but… You wondered what that meant. She would have said something if someone was seriously hurt, right?

You didn’t have long to spiral in your thoughts, though. Fett grunted acknowledgement and pushed the ship into hyperspace.

It wasn’t long until the ship dropped out of hyperspace, revealing the Light Cruiser. It didn’t look any different from the outside.

But you weren’t so concerned with that.

Fett found a place to dock the ship. Fortunately, he didn’t try to stop you when you scrambled out of the ship as soon as you could.

You needed to see Din and Grogu, see that they were okay.

Din met you in the hanger, looking a little ruffled but fine, helmet firmly in place. But his arms were empty.

You couldn’t see Grogu.

“He went with a Jedi.” He spoke softly, not keeping you waiting.

“What?” You froze, feeling as if you’d misunderstood somehow. Because Din had promised you that he and Grogu would come back.

“A Jedi came,” Din repeated slowly, hands open at his sides. He didn’t move towards you. “I let him go. It’s what I’ve been working towards. For him to be with his own kind.”

You breathed in, tears blurring your vision. You’d known that, you’d known Din wanted to find a Jedi to take Grogu, but… now? So soon? “I didn’t get to see him,” you whispered, heart aching.

Din shifted forward and stopped himself, pulling back slowly. “I’m sorry,” was all he offered, visor fixed on you.

You shook your head, too emotionally overwhelmed to answer him properly. One shaking hand lifted to wipe the wetness from your cheeks.

“Is he okay?” you finally managed to ask, voice trembling. “Was he hurt?”

“He’s safe,” Din promised, finally taking a single step closer to you, both hands lifting like he wanted to take hold of you. But he didn’t. He held himself back that last little bit. “He is unharmed. And he will be safe with the Jedi.”

You nodded, even as your shoulders hunched tighter. Which was ridiculous. This was what you’d wanted, right? For the kid to be safe, to be with his own people?

…Right?

Fennec slipped silently past you with no more than a glance and a quick touch to your shoulder. Your breath shuddered on the way in, and you tried to wrestle yourself back under control. You were making a fuss and you didn’t need to. Everyone was safe. No one was hurt.

Even if Grogu was gone.

“So what now?” You wiped your eyes again, refusing to meet Din’s gaze, even if you could. Instead you focused on his chest, checking the beskar for any new marks.

“We see if Fett will take us somewhere,” Din said, hands falling back to his sides, hands opening and closing like he wanted to grab something. “From there, it will be easy to find passage to another planet.”

You nodded slowly, trying to slow your breathing and calm yourself. It wasn’t easy. But you managed it after a few minutes of quiet.

“Okay,” you croaked. “Okay.”

Din stepped closer, slowly, like he expected you to reject him. When you didn’t, one hand took your elbow, helping to steady you and hold you close.

“Ready?” he asked, low and quiet.

You nodded, unwilling to trust your voice for now. Din helped you back onto the ship, staying next to you.

“If you need transport, I am going back to Tattooine,” Fett said before either of you could ask.

“That would be appreciated,” Din accepted with a nod.

Fett inclined his head and climbed back up into the cockpit, Fennec following him up.

Leaving you and Din in the hold together.

The ramp closed, and Din ushered you to a seat, seeming concerned. You didn’t brush him off, needing the stability of him to regain your own internal balance.

“Are you sure he’ll be okay?” you whispered, half-certain Din wouldn’t hear you as the engines whirred back to life.

“He will be,” Din answered with more confidence than you could fathom right then. “We will see him again.”

You breathed out slowly, soothed despite yourself with his confidence. Grogu would be okay, at the very least. If you were lucky, you'd see him again. Things would be okay. This wasn't the end.

The trip back to Tatooine was largely quiet. You were already thinking of offering to look at Boba's ship, as a bit of repayment for the ride and his help. Only if he wanted you to, though.

Din sat next to you the entire trip, one thigh pressed to yours, his pauldron hurting you a little where it dug into your shoulder. You didn't say anything about it - the pain was rather grounding, helping you to focus on the here and now, rather than spiraling out of control again.

But the second time your head tipped sideways and thunked against the beskar, Din removed it, leaving his softer flight suit instead.

You had to admit, his shoulder made a better pillow than his pauldron did.

His arm shifted, giving you a little more room to settle in, and you melted against him with a tiny, contented sigh.

No, things were not perfect. Or even good. But this? This was a lot. This was good.

And in a life that hadn't had a lot of good things, especially recently, you clung to the good things.

The ship shuddered as it entered atmo, and you blinked rapidly. When had you even dropped out of hyperspace? You didn't remember. Had you actually fallen asleep?

Din seemed unruffled when you sat up, merely shifting his weight, helmet tipping towards you.

“Sounds like we're almost there,” he rasped.

“Yeah.” You straightened a little, glancing at him. “Where are we going next?”

Din hesitated, holding very still. “I'll need to check in with the guild,” he said slowly.

“Okay.” You could work with that. You'd already spent a good portion of your life not knowing exactly what came next. This wouldn't be so hard. Not with Din.

The ship landed smoothly, and all of you exited. Boba had set down near the spaceport, within easy walking distance, but still away enough from what crowds Tatooine had to have some privacy.

“You should be able to find passage from here,” he said, inclining his head towards the large transport vessels. “I will be remaining here, on Tatooine.”

Din inclined his head. “Your help has been invaluable. Thank you.”

Boba returned the nod and walked back onto his ship. Fennec lingered near the ramp, facing away from you and Din.

And Din… Din looked at you. Hands open at his sides. He breathed in deep, straightening his shoulders.

“Maybe you'd be happier staying here.”

The world fell out from under your feet. Your heart plummeted, chest constricting so tight you were surprised all your organs didn't simply give up. No. There was no way… Din wasn't… He wouldn't…

“This life is dangerous,” Din continued. “You know that. It's hard on you. I've noticed. I don't even have a ship anymore.”

All true, but. Why was he leaving you? Why now? You'd thought… you'd thought…

“I want you to be safe.” Din reached out one hand, slowly, until his glove-encased hand closed around yours. “I have things I need to do. Things that are for Mandalorians.”

You shook your head slowly, too stunned and overwrought to form words, or even to cry.

“I'll check on you, when I come back,” he promised, voice low and intent. He really thought he was doing what was best. “Be well. Stay with Peli.”

He released your hand, which dropped limp to your side, cold and unfeeling. He stepped back, your feet rooted to the sand, heavy and thick.

He turned and walked away. Your shoulders hunched. Your world shattered.

You stared after him, unblinking, unmoving, even as grains of sand stung your face.

“If you're looking for a job,” Fennec said from somewhere behind you, voice even and casual, “we could use a mechanic. There's a lot of work that needs to be done.”

You breathed in, everything muted. You couldn't feel your extremities. Couldn't feel much of anything past the vice wrapped around the gaping loss in your chest.

There was nothing else for you, now.

“Let's go.”

#shatter me #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #f!reader

30 notes · View notes