itsmelodramasblog

[pushing500]

For someone without DLCs how do mimes work?

Mimes are super creepy! They come from the Alpha Animals mod if I'm not mistaken, and basically, they're a time bomb.

You'll get a "Wanderer Joins" event, perfectly normal and not suspicious in any way. A new colonist shows up, they may or may not be helpful, whatever. In Eva's case, she is pretty good at construction and shooting, and she's a night owl which means she can get stuff done while everybody else is sleeping.

However, unlike normal colonists, mimes are super hungry. They eat so, so much. I've noticed that Eva eats 5-7 meals every day, and if I sit and watch her hunger bar, I can watch it go down uncomfortably fast.

Should a mime not get the meals it requires to sate itself, it will drop its human disguise and be revealed as a horrific monstrosity and begin attacking the other colonists. They can't be tamed, and the only way to stop their rampage is to kill them. I'm pretty sure they drop human leather and human meat when you butcher them, too.

I've never had a mime in one of my colonies (until now, if my suspicions about Eva are correct), but my brother has had a couple, and I've watched the havoc they wreak. I am hoping we can keep Eva satiated until our escape ship is constructed and we can leave her behind in Eureka with whatever unfortunate colonists get left behind with her.

I drew one of my brother's mimes once. A couple of years back. It was a staggeringly ugly colonist that I don't recall the name of. I drew it fighting a staggeringly ugly wild man that I do recall the name of (he was called Sheppard) because he's become something of a meme between my brother and me, and I have drawn him many times.

Here you go, the terrific battle of Staggeringly Ugly Wild Man Sheppard vs The Staggeringly Ugly Mime!

[mrpenguinpants]

Overdue Bills

— He knows your fake relationship with him was made purely for beneficial reasons. After everything was said and done, you both went your separate ways. So why does he keep coming back to you?

— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha

-> Part 1: Please go out with me for tax benefits! -> Not connected but can also be read: I refuse to fall in love out of spite [ TBA ] [Masterlist]

Does this feel rushed because it is. I assumed everyone wanted a continuation but I plan on writing another fic using the original prompt but for different characters. The titles have nothing to do with the fics but I really wanted to title this, we've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty.

Alhaitham

There's only so much Kaveh can handle before he hits a breaking point and this might be it. A few months ago he overheard the librarian ask a stranger how their boyfriend Alhaitham was doing, to which he nearly broke his neck in how fast he turned. From the long pause and the plain answer of, "he's fine", which Alhaitham most definitely isn't given how much work the sages are dumping onto their scribe, Kaveh came to the conclusion that you're another creepy admirer or an attention-seeking leech. While Kaveh wouldn't call Alhaitham something as close as a friend, the man at least deserved to know there was another deranged person spreading lies. He assumed Alhaitham would confront you, knock some sense into you, and that would be the end of it. But because Alhaitham operates on a level that's incomprehensible to Kaveh, instead you've both entered into a fake dating relationship that he honestly believes is a horrible idea. But Alhaitham is his roommate, not his friend, and he doesn't have the time or care to facilitate a non-existent love life. But lo and behold the next time he sees you, there's a silver-haired man is hovering nearby looking at you with the closest thing to love his stoic face can make. Things are only weirder when Kaveh brings the sight up to you, saying that you're both taking this fake dating in stride and he's honestly impressed at how Alhaitham really put his all into this performance. Only for you to look at him as if he's grown two heads. You and Alhaitham stopped dating weeks ago.

Alhaitham isn't stupid. There's only so much rationalization he can turn to and so many excuses he can make but at the end of the day, he has to admit that he never works better than he does sitting beside you. At first, he reasoned that it was because people didn't bother him as much and you knew how to be quiet. Perhaps that's why you've skyrocketed in his requirements of friendship despite the fact that you both weren't really friends. But then he couldn't sit alone without getting restless. There’s an empty space beside him that constantly makes itself aware in his subconscious. One that screams at him that he wants you to be there, not just because you can scare people away.

It's a slow realization from there starting with him comparing you and Kaveh. For as much as he and his senior argue back and forth almost every time they meet, Alhaitham considers Kaveh an excellent mirror to him that can push his thoughts to go further. But you're different. That realization turns into contemplation when you actually listen and take his advice. Every scholar is egotistical to some degree, there's a lot of pride to take into your research, and having your weeks of hard work be written off by a blunt statement gets people angry. Alhaitham would be the first to know, he's been on the receiving end of that anger multiple times. Yet when he points out a section in your thesis to be incorrect, you simply tilt your head thinking before agreeing he was right. Crumbling your paper, ready to start all over again without any fuss. Still water versus the wave that Kaveh is. While some would call that boring, he finds it charming.

The nail in the coffin is when he catches himself labeling the chair next to him as yours. He can't justify that one and he's suddenly confronted that he severely underestimated how much he's grown to like you. He originally agreed to the idea to keep his comfortable routine without any interruptions and your introduction would fix his issue of suitors but you've played your part so perfectly that he fell for it. He was tempted to stop talking to you altogether, cutting the deal off entirely and never speaking to you again. But you're not a saint and just as he realized his feelings, your thesis was done and you left abruptly before he had any time to prepare. A glaring empty spot mocking him. Only to come back with your stacks of books and a nervous smile that Alhaitham refuses to acknowledge makes his heart beat just the slightest bit quicker.

He knows you can hear the whispers that you and Alhaitham have gotten back together. Yet you haven't said anything and he politely chooses to not say anything either. The rumors certainly haven't stopped you from acting differently and he doesn't know if that's a good thing. He knows your language is touch but now he wants to be the one near you this time. That way the first person you’ll speak to is him. By now he’s fully aware of his feelings and how far they��ve developed for him to actually start feeling possessive. So the next time you lean against him to show him a particular paragraph of a book, he wraps a hand around your waist, disguising it as him shifting you to the side so he can get a better angle to read. Under his hand, he can feel how tense you become at the casual touch, how your eyes jump from him to the floor, before relaxing and continuing on.

In hindsight, he knows by all rational reasoning he should just confess to you and get it over and done with. But there's something exciting in the way you look at him with calculating eyes that he stares back at unflinching. He thinks of it as payback for you strolling into his carefully planned life and making a mess. He’s simply allowing himself to indulge in it. Now every time you greet him with a wave, he offers a smile. When you want to drag him somewhere by the cape, he slips his hand into yours stating you'll stretch the fabric too much. And when you need to whisper something in his ear? He'll practically be in your lap with how close he leans in even if there's no one else in the room. He knows eventually you'll catch on to what he's trying to do, what he's trying to say. You've been practicing for months sitting beside him. It's finally when he invites you to the pavilion that he can see the realization on your face that Alhaitham clearly doesn't consider you just a friend. The look of bewilderment goes back and forth with suspicion before finally settling into an amused huff with the smallest of smiles.

It's late enough into the day that he knows the only people lingering in the Akademiya are either passed-out students or scholars too wrapped up in their work. All consideration he's taken to make sure you're both uninterrupted for this moment. And what a moment it is. The pavilion itself is beautiful with its blue and green stained glass windows that reflect the evening sun. The yellow flowers swaying gently in the breeze add just enough color to not be irritating. Kaveh might need to retract his statement that Alhaitham doesn't know a thing about romance because it's painfully obvious what's about to happen.

"Any more and people might get the wrong idea you know," you say as you lean against the white wall. The look of confusion is gone from your eyes, replaced with mirth. It does not make him shudder.

"About what? The library is cramped with people and the pavilion is quiet," he says like it's an off-handed comment before turning around, leaning his weight against his elbows on the railing as he turns to the side to look at the view this specific pavilion provides. "Although I can understand where you might have drawn that conclusion. I can assure you nothing like that will happen. You're not my type."

He can physically feel you bristle even though he isn't looking at you before your footsteps come closer and closer until your form is right in front of him. He still refuses to look at you but he can tell the moment you see his poorly hidden smile. He hears you let out an amused huff before you bring your hands up and settle them against the railing as well. Only you've decided to cage him in between your arms and it makes him turn to you, raising a brow. He's already lost the moment he turned but the cheeky grin you have is worth it. You look really cute when you're smug.

"If I had any interest, it would have died a long time ago. You're the worst fake boyfriend I've ever had so I can't imagine how insufferable you'll be as a real one," you shake your head exasperated but there's a small entertained look that tugs at his heart. That you know what he knows and he knows what you know. A similar feeling of understanding that he's gotten so used to. One that lets him act in such an irrational way.

"You've had others?" he asks as his arm comes off the railing to settle around your waist. You don't push him away, easily following along.

"For such a pretty face you have such an awful personality," you sigh disappointed yet the arms that cage him move to settle around his neck, twirling the silver hair at the base of his neck as you lean closer until there isn't space between the two of you.

"Oh? So you think I'm pretty?" He tilts his chin slightly down, his lips brushing against yours.

"You must have selective hearing." With your faces so close, he can see the excitement in your eyes. He's sure that he is the same. So he ignores the pleased look on your face and leans in.

Ayato

Ultimately, he's just a passerby. He decided on a whim to go along with some absurd act because he thought the sheer dread and embarrassment on your face was amusing and he wanted to see more. By all accounts, your temporary date wasn't too bad. It felt a bit refreshing being with someone that looked like they rather throw themselves in the nearby sea than stand next to the refined Yashiro Commissioner. But otherwise, that's the end of your relationship. With a few words here and there, he managed to spin the absurd story into his favor and reign in the disaster your little stunt might have caused. He's grateful that you so easily play along with him. Not a single complaint about how he lies through his teeth that someone was bothering you so he extended his help so this individual would leave you alone. It makes both of you, mostly him, look good. How people rush to make sure you're okay while your expression flickers between guilt and embarrassment is far more entertaining than anything he originally planned during this outing. But at the end of the day, you have nothing to do with each other and he owes you nothing. Your presence is ultimately inconsequential in the stream that is his life. That is until one day your relationship changes to stupidity and heartfelt sincerity.

It starts off as a joke. Ayato tends to latch onto small things that give him a momentary break from his busy and stressed lifestyle and duties. Plus there's something lighthearted about this situation that he doesn't want to let go of just yet. Unfortunately for you, Ayato's newfound joy is sneaking up on you and sending you into an early grave. The first time it was an accident, you just happened to be easily jumpy, but the second time though? The resounding screech of terror never fails to make a smile appear on his face and you're convinced that he's a sadist. He doesn't even have to try that hard, his steps are silent even against the crooked stone path that he can waltz up right behind you. But his absolute favourite part is bending down and whispering what exactly his fiancee is so interested in. It always leads to embarrassing talks of you politely asking him to not refer to you with that title anymore that he swiftly blocks by mentioning that, wasn't it you who called him your fiancee first? You should take responsibility.

He thinks your reactions are cute even if you're a bit vulgar in language, although to him that just adds to the warped sense of charm he finds in you. Thoma nearly chokes on his own spit when Ayato perks up at something behind him, suddenly dropping the calm facade of the Yashiro Commissioner and something more genuine before calling out to a "fiancee". Thoma whips around to see a stranger speaking with Yoimiya before their eyes lift and lock with Ayato's and their expression immediately sour. He doesn't think he's ever seen anyone show such a disgusted expression and he can't help but wonder what his lord has done this time. Before Thoma can say anything the stranger picks up a firework ball and hurls it at his Lord who easily sidesteps the attack, the resounding death threats only making the blue-haired man laugh.

It's fun. You're fun to be around. The entire situation is silly and ridiculous and it feels nice. Ayato had to grow up too fast, become an adult too fast, and shoulder the burden meant for later years. Something as small as a nickname, an inside joke, something he can bring up to spite someone just for the fun of it is nice. Perhaps that's why he refuses to let go and finds himself returning to you.

It's all a joke. There's no way Ayato can actually take your hand in marriage. Not with your differences in status. You think that's the only reason people entertain the idea, why he even entertains the idea. To get a reaction out of you that he can relentlessly tease and it's all so stupid. That is until he receives a different reaction that leaves him lost and confused.

You stumble upon him in the aftermath of another one of his assassination attempts. He was perfectly fine, not even a speck of dust on his white coat yet you were nearly in hysteria. Panicked hiccups as you sob uncontrollably into his chest, your tears doing far more damage to dirtying his clothes than an attempt on his life. He tries his best to console you but you can't seem to stop the tears and as much as he values staying dignified, he's almost at his limit. Hand already poised to yank you off until he falters in both mind and body when you suddenly turn your head up and he sees the expression that you hid away in the lapels of his coat. The feeling of the annoyance of having to wash his coat flew out of his mind at the sight of your teary eyes and downturned lips. A small, very small, part of his heart beats just a bit faster. An even smaller part that was buried under the title of Yashiro Commissioner perks its head over someone who was crying for him. Even though you've both talked multiple times, you and he aren't close enough to be considered friends, at least in his eyes. Yet you're currently looking at him as if you're the one that's been attacked because of the simple fact that he could have been hurt. It's...strange.

He doesn't say anything as you usher him into your home to fix up whatever injuries you happened to have conjured in your mind. He's never stepped foot into your residence and he's honestly glad he hasn't because your home is...disheartening, to say the least. He thinks the estate has more life than what was supposedly something you called home. It's not that your place is poor, you're not sleeping on a slab of rock, but it's empty. Like you don't have anything at all. The only thing you seem to carry is your small pile of books. Worn but well taken care of. So he doesn't say anything as you fuss over him, doesn't say anything about the horrendous first aid kit you bring, and bids you farewell at the door of your home. You smile at him widely and tell him to take care of himself. But when he turns to leave, he risks one last peek at you, just in time to see you close your door. You aren't smiling anymore. He stops walking.

It starts to escalate from there. The following months of sudden change are so abrupt that he has no choice but to follow along. He wants to see every expression you have. If that isn't enough, he'll find new ones for you to make.

Ayato's first impression of you is charming but in a pitiful sort of way. You have to be an airhead, you must be considering your shared first meeting. How you didn't realize your mistake and went along with everything is beyond Ayato. You and Itto are almost on the same level of denseness but while Itto does everything with blind confidence that the situation has changed because of him, you are the opposite. Wandering into your own mess as you ignore all the warning signs until it's too late. But you're also honest and upfront, two traits that Ayato has come to value immensely. He finds you endearing, so much that it's starting to overfill his teacup. So with a silent smile, he asks a question.

"Why don't you become my fiancee?"

The noodle slips between your chopsticks, a loud unflattering splat against the table echoing through the silence as you stare at him slack-jawed. He begins to worry that he's accidentally sent you into a stroke because one of your eyes starts twitching.

"Huh? Are you being for real?" you ask deadpanned. He can't help but chuckle under his fingers before resting his chin on the palm of his hand. It feels nice to be able to rest his elbows against the table without someone reprimanding him for his lack of manners. He finds your dry reaction far cuter than the blushes and swoons from the ladies that the elders forced him to take out.

"Be my fiancee." he pauses before continuing as an afterthought. "For real this time."

You pick up your fallen noodle, chew, swallow, and then point your chopsticks at him. Not convinced in the slightest. "Even if you haven't picked out a fiancee you shouldn't joke about that."

"Really?" he fakes surprise, "Then how come you're on a date with me right now?"

You choke. He pushes his teacup towards you, who takes it and gulps down half of its contents in one go. The glass clinks loudly on the table when you put it down yet it doesn't distract him from the sheer disbelief on your face as your ears grow red. He thinks out of all of the expressions you've given him, he likes this one the most.

"This isn't-It's not," you attempt to say, spluttering the entire time that remnants of the tea you just drank wet your lips.

"Yes, it is. Why? Is it bad? Do you know enjoy being taken out to dinner? I can easily arrange for something else instead," He reached over with a napkin to wipe your face. It only serves to make you more embarrassed that he's treating you like a child as you push his hand away lest you combust on the spot. There's no immediate answer. He can't tell whether you're actually considering his offer, or if you're refraining from throwing your chopsticks at him.

"No thanks. If I've learned anything it's that you'll only torment me until I die. I'm starting to think I like you even less," you grumble, shoving more noodles into your mouth.

Ayato is a strange man so he doesn't wait for the water to spill, just tips the cup over and starts again. This time he waits for you to swallow before saying anything, he doesn't want you to choke again.

"That's unfortunate. I adore you, you know."

Kazuha

While his feelings and words were true, he resigns himself to the fact that your relationship was a one-and-done situation. Impulsiveness isn't one of his qualities but as he reflects on his time with you, he gets a bit flustered at how hard he fell. He had just met you and yet within the span of a couple weeks, you managed to fill out the empty parts of his heart. He tries to rationalize that it was just the timing. He had been on the run for so long, his thoughts always chained around Inazuma, and upholding his promise to his friend. But then you happened to crash into his life, quite literally, and everything slowed to a stop at that moment. Originally it was just to protect you from a clingy admirer but then you started asking about him. What his hobbies were, what kind of dreams he had, and whether or not he would like to learn how to fly. Every day and night sitting beside you on the crow's nest, the gentle sway of the waters rocking the boat, and the backdrop of noise down on the deck was the most serene Kazuha has ever felt since he left Inazuma. But all things must come to an end eventually and even though Kazuha knows that this might be the end, you look so hopefully at him that he can't help but try to push the end to tomorrow. He just needs to garner the strength to move.

Beidou asks if he's sure about his decision to leave the Crux and wander on his own. It's not nice to make you wait even though she knows you and when you say you'll wait, you're going to damn wait no matter how long it takes. But he reassures her that he's still not ready. As much as he wants to run over the water back to Liyue, he doesn't want to bring along conflicted and aimless feelings. But he will hurry, he's been running for so long, he can run a little further for something and someone for himself. It's a bit selfish but Beidou gives him an exasperated soft smile that lets him know it's not a bad thing. Although with each passing day Beidou's ship ports, it gets harder and harder for her to break the news that Kazuha is still not back. Beidou does her best to reassure you that Kazuha isn't stringing you along, she would have drowned him in the ocean if he was that low of a guy, but she can tell that with each visit your expression grows more and more distant. Watching how you're the first one to rush down the wooden bridges with a hopeful expression that one-day Kazuha might be there only to leave with a sad smile. It makes her want to track her problem child down and bring him back to you. Not that she has any idea where he wandered too.

He ends up in the forests of Sumeru. His keen sense of smell aids him as he treks through the wilderness until he meets a strange forest watcher and a girl in green. Their a bit of an odd pair but so is Kazuha and they become fast friends. Apparently, his calm demeanor is a breath of fresh air and it's enough that they don't pry into his history. Although there are moments when he can feel their eyes on him. Perhaps living in the forest has led them both to be aware of subtle changes far better than Kazuha can smell. It starts when they trek towards the small lakes and waterbeds to gather niloptala lotus for Tighnari that he sees it. An anemone flower. Soft white petals with a dark blue center sway in the breeze as he stands watching it move. It's Collei who approaches him and explains white anemone flowers, also known as windflowers, symbolize sincerity due to their delicate appearance. According to mythology, the anemone flower was created when Aphrodite's mortal lover, Adonis, was killed and from the spot where her tears fell to the ground, an anemone emerged. She says that he might enjoy that last bit of information to use as inspiration for his many haiku poems because he's looking at the flower as if he's fallen in love. Although she warns him that when fresh, all parts are poisonous.

When Inazuma finally calmed down and Thoma informed him that he was no longer a wanted man, it was the second time Kazuha could take a deep breath and relax. He was free from running and could focus on the future. He won't lie and say that his thoughts didn't stray back to you every night. He's been gone for months and he wonders if you still remember what he looks like. But now he has to ask himself the hard question if he's ready to see you. Unfortunately, he doesn't get to make that choice.

He sees you at Port Ormos by chance, speaking to a silver-haired man before you cut yourself off mid-sentence as your eyes lock onto his. Even with everything Kazuha has been through, he feels scared. He knew he would eventually return to you but now that you're here, is he not ready? Or is he scared? He knew that asking for you to wait was selfish, that one day he may return with your hand in someone else's. Maybe that's why you're all the way in Sumeru rather than the high mountains of Liyue. All these emotions reflect back to you and he can see it, your fists are trembling even as you gaze back at him with conviction and determination. The sun shines right behind you, creating a gold halo over your tousled hair. But it makes the shadows of your strained expression darker, your eyes gloss over your jaw tense, and everything about your posture screams please don't disappoint me Kazuha. Then it's gone. Your attention back to the silver hair man, pretending as if nothing happened. You'll wait until he's ready but you won't acknowledge him when he's not. And Kazuha. Kazuha runs away.

"There you are."

Kazuha looks up to see Tighnari sitting at the table facing the entrance that Kazuha has stumbled through. It's late into the night and because his heart has more room to bear, he feels guilty that Tighnari stayed up to make sure he returned. Before he can apologize Tighnari raises a hand to stop him, sighing before he gestures Kazuha to sit down. Fiddling with his pouch he takes something and slides it across to Kazuha. An Inazuma charm. The same one you gave him when he left.

"You dropped it when you were running through Port Ormos like you had stolen something. I had to convince Cyno that you weren't a thief but you're going to have to apologize to Collei for scaring her like that," he huffs as he settles back into his seat, watching at how Kazuha raises a wary hand to pick up the charm like it'll break under the slightest pressure. It makes Tighnari soften around the edges, the worried lines of his face smoothing out as he rests a hand on the samurai's shoulder. "Are you okay Kazuha?"

It only serves to bring a pained smile to the man's face, shaking his head. No. No, he's not alright. He hasn't felt "alright" in months. He's lived his life thinking that as long as his blade was by his side, he could continue moving. But now it feels like he's slowly dying. Poisoned from the core. He thought he would be able to approach this like he had always been. That he thought he understood what he was doing and trusted the wind to guide him. But now he's confronted with his accountability and he doesn't know what to do but run. Back into the silence of the forest until he can't run any further. Collapsing onto the cold ground as he heaves for another breath. Every moment up until now replays in his head, becoming more vivid no matter how long it's been until he can smell your fragrance. It was a similar feeling to when he lost his friend, this lingering pain. It's why he decided he needed to leave first. He always assumed he remembered because of guilt. Guilt that he asked you to wait, guilt that he wasn't the one that was ready, and guilt that even after all this time he hasn't entered the border of Liyue. Yet no matter how long he goes, this feeling of guilt only remains for you until he doesn't know if that's the correct emotion. If what remains in his heart truly isn't guilt, what is this emotion that keeps him looking back at his memories of you? He doesn't know. It's his first time feeling this way.

"You're in love Kazuha. That's it."

---

There's a sudden ruckus on the ship deck that has Beidou draw her head up, her letter to Ningguang momentarily paused as she listens carefully to what her crew is so noisy about. Their voices are muffled through the thick wooden walls of her office but it doesn't sound like they're in any danger. Either way as the Captain she should check out what everyone is so excited about. She shoulders her fur-lined shawl back on and slams the doors open.

"What's got you all so- Kazuha?!" Beidou nearly chokes midsentence to see her sentence when he spots that familiar white and red hair. Even though it's only been a few months, he looks so much older than she remembers. When he said he wanted to do some soul searching, she didn't think it would make him look so...mature. It's not that his outward appearance is any different, he's still got that adorable baby face, but the air around him is tranquil rather than still.

"Captain, it's good to see you again," Kazuha smiles and gives a small wave. His hand is free of bandages letting her see the electro burns that scar his skin. She politely doesn't let her eyes linger on them for long, that's all in the past anyways. So she grins ear to ear and yanks the poor man into a headlock and a giant slap on the back. Her official way her welcome a trusty companion back.

"About time lover boy, let's get you home."

---

Not me throwing canon personalities and good characterization out the window to push my smitten agenda.

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars

@tigerpriestess @endurablerose @ayakohana

[dizzyjelly]

Help Me Out?

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: You're popular and you ask the smartest girl in class to help you out with your math work, and how could she say no? She was confused as you start to actually become friends. Because she didn't understand why someone like you would take an interest in someone like her.

Cw: reader cries bc of a mean teacher, kinda loser!ellie, reader fights with her fake ass friend.

A/n: this is actually based off a real life experience, I was sadly the loser in this situation 😔 also I obviously dramatized it for the story but yeahh, anyways enjoy! There will be a part 2.

You had to be the most confusing girl Ellie has ever met. She wondered why on earth you spent your time talking to her, when you were so popular. It wasn't unknown that Ellie was a lesbian, actually it was pretty much what she was known for. But you didn't seem to care.

Math was never your strong suit, in fact you'd always struggle with it. Ellie, however, was amazingly good at it. She had her heart set on becoming an astronaut one day, and so she figured that she'd have to understand math. Joel helped her to do just that, but he also made sure she excelled.

Anytime your math teacher spoke, it sounded like complete gibberish to you. You'd even cry some nights, you know on the days she would yell at the entire class about how stupid they were. It just felt like she was singling you out. And not to mention all the passive aggressive notes she'd leave on your assignments or tests. One day, you figured why not ask Ellie for help?

She was utterly confused. Why would someone like you talk to someone like her? And out of your own free will.

"Ellie? I'm really sorry to bother you, but can you help me out..?" Your voice was quiet and you sounded timid almost.

At first, she was silent. She kind of just stared at you. But eventually, she came to her senses.

"Yeah of course! What's up?" You smiled, she spoke so kindly to you.

"Here, let me just-" you got up and stood at her desk, "number 6, and basically everything after it. I just don't get it.." You sigh softly.

"Okay, this is what I wrote." She said, merely handing you her paper.

"No, I don't want to copy yours. Can you explain it to me?" You ask, looking over at her now with pleading eyes.

Ellie nodded, giving you a thin-lipped smile before she began to talk and point things out. You wrote what she told you to and hummed every now in then with understanding. Eventually she'd helped you complete the whole thing, and you were beyond thankful.

This kind of interaction would continue to happen between the two of you for the next couple weeks. Your teacher had grown.. annoyed with this behavior. For some unknown reason she just had it out for you, because when you walked into class today, she announced a seat change.

Ellie was already in class, so she got up from her former seat and stod at the front of the room along with everyone else. You made your way to stand beside her, crossing your arms out of frustration.

As your teacher began assigning new seats, you sighed. Ellie looked over at you, but said nothing. So you decided to start the conversation.

"God I hate her. She's probably doing this just so I'll fail." You whisper.

"Whay do you mean?" Ellie whispers in return.

"You've been.. helping me out lately. I guess she just can't stand to see me succeed." You frown softly.

Ellie turns to face you once again, noticing how upset you really were. She didn't know what to say, or do. So she kept quiet and waited for her new seat assignment. After a few more minutes everyone was settled in their new seats.

You and Ellie were sat just about as far away as possible. This was definitely personal. Throughout class, you struggled tremendously. God this was just what your stupid math teacher wanted.

That day, you took it upon yourself to find Ellie at lunch. If she was shocked that you'd even speak to her, just imagine how insane she found it when you sat at her lunch table. Usually she sat alone, not because she didn't have friends, but they all had different lunch hours.

She felt so entranced by you, every word you said felt like it was burned into her brain. She admired you, truly. Even if she thought she had no chance with you. Ellie figured you were straight. Everyone knew you had a boyfriend last year, until you didn't. That was beside the point. Falling for a "straight" girl wasn't the first thing on her list, but that's what was happening.

"I literally hate her!" You complained.

"I know," Ellie nodded. "She is pretty annoying."

While Ellie wasn't fond of your math teacher either, she'd lie if she was. She'd agree with anything you said. God she felt pathetic.

"Fucking tell me about it.." You scoffed.

Ellie was confused when you say with her everyday for the rest of the week, but she wasn't complaining. She'd gotten to know you better. And she was quite impressed with who you really turned out to be.

She always thought high school girls like you were mean, but you were so sweet to her. Ellie had enjoyed spending more time with you, and she had no problem helping you out with your math work too. You were starting to get the hang of it, but it still didn't make complete sense to you.

Friday was your breaking point, you were just beyond frustrated by your work. Your teacher was busy on thr phone, so you figured why not. And you stood and walked over to Ellies desk. She blushed deeply as you'd gotten very close to her and whispered in her ear.

But you couldn't have been trying to flirt, you were just trying to be discreet, right? She began to explain the problem to you, perfectly ad always. And you were ready to thank her and start working, but before you could, your teacher called out your name angrily.

"What are you doing out of your seat. You have got to be one of the worst students I've ever had. Get back to your seat, now!" This time, her words genuinely hurt you.

Ellie watched you nervously, noticing how you'd gone silent and the way your bottom lip quivered. Her eyes widened and she felt so terrible when you began to cry. Your face ran red hot as you could feel everyone staring at you.

Ellie sighed softly and stood up, unsure what she should do. But she didn't have to guess because you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around her, resting your head on her shoulder. Ellie felt so awkward, and, she felt dizzy almost. Holding her arms around you felt so unreal, but god did it feel good.

Your teacher ended up sending the both of you to the hallway. Where you'd sit against some lockers, your knees pulled to your chest and your head resting in your arms. Ellie sat beside you, crisscross applesauce as she looked over at you and waited. She was waiting for you to say something, anything.

"Sorry.. I'm just overreacting.." You'd finally whisper.

"But you're not," Ellie was quick to reassure, and she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, "she's been so mean to you for so long. Your completely valid to be upset by her.." her voice was quiet and soft.

"Thank you.." You smiled as you whispered, resting your head against Ellie's shoulder and wrapping your hands gently around her forearm.

She'd just nod in response then try and breathe regularly, which felt impossible when you were all over her like this. God, what did you do to her? After some time passed the bell rang and you two made your way to lunch. As you walked your interlocked your arm with Ellie's, which earned you a few glares.

You were relieved to just be able to sit down and have lunch, and relax. But that peace didn't last long when one of the girls you used to sit with decided to approach you and Ellie. She sat beside you and stared at Ellie as if she were some kind of alien.

"So, this is what you're busy doing? Hanging out with.. her?" Olivia spoke with disgust.

Your brows furrowed with confusion, what was her issue? You scoffed softly before answering.

"Yeah." You begin, your tone was anything but kind, "she's way better company than any of you ever were. You guys are mean and.. fake. Ellie is nice and she actually makes me feel good about myself." Ellie watched with amazement as you talked about her so highly.

"Whatever, you're a loser now anyways. We heard you cried in class.." She started to laugh at you.

"Jesus, who cares!" Ellie finally interjects, you watch her nervously, "look I know you think the most important thing in life is whether people think you're cool or not, which believe me, you're not, because you're just like every other basic bitch you hang out with. One day you're going to realize that wow, you peaked in high school, and it all goes downhill from here. Now would you please leave us alone?" Her words came off confident and snarky.

But you saw how her hands shook in her lap. She was so nervous. You smiled at her, she did that for you. Nobody ever did that kind of stuff for you. She really was.. good company.

While Ellie had fallen for you first so clearly, you fell a lot harder. Some part of you always knew you wanted to be more than just her friend, but it wasn't until now that it really hit you. As Olivia got up and walked away, Ellie could tell how you looked at her differently.

"Ellie.." You whisper, and she nods, "you're the best." You settle on a friendly compliment, because oh my God!

You liked Ellie, you'd never expect that. Not because she was a girl, but just because she was Ellie. And it's not that she was unattractive or anything. But you two were just so different. It didn't make total sense, if any.

"Oh, thank you.." She blushed.

"Hey, let's hang out after school." You spoke with excitement, "I could sleep over!" Ellies eyes widened at that.

Immediately she thought about the two of you.. in the same bed. God what would she do. She'd have to figure it out, because of course, she agreed. You couldn't wait for the school day to end.

[didyoulookforme]

pov: you play spin the bottle

nothing crazy. just friends kissing each other.

warning: 18+, weed, boys kissing, mentions of sex. follows no timeline.

masterlist here

-----

that evening, you found yourself at matty's flat with the boys and some other people you didn't quite know but had definitely seen before. perhaps at previous gatherings held by george or matty. who knows. they all just wanted to get high, so that's exactly what you did.

the thing is, you hadn't smoked much prior to that night. yes, you enjoyed cigarettes (after all, you spent many hours with the lot of them) but didn't have much experience with weed. yet, you didn't want to be left alone so you agreed to go along for the ride and suffer its consequences, good or bad.

ross offered you a drag and you took it. you inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill your lungs and cloud your mind. apparently you held it in for too long that you started having a coughing fit, a very stoned ross staring while trying not to chuckle. "are you alright?" he said. "yes" cough "yes" cough. eventually you went back to normal, catching your breath, slowly feeling the effects of the drug in your body. you almost forgot how nice it felt and wondered why you didn't do it more often.

the last time was with george, back when you were a "thing", if you could even call it that. it was a rainy night and you both sat by the open window of his bedroom, sharing a joint. you were apprehensive at first but it had been a stressful day of work, so you needed to take the edge off. the weed definitely helped, but it might've also been the sex that followed. george had been especially eager to make you moan as loud as you possibly could. you could almost feel his hands tightly grip your hips at the memory of it when suddenly someone called your name and broke your trance.

speak of the devil.

george's face came into focus and started dragging you by the arm, "c'mon, we're going to play spin the bottle." he turned around to look at you, a smirk forming on his lips as he pulled you to the circle the others had formed. you thought this game was only played by horny 14 year olds, but what the hell. what's the worst that could happen, right?

you dropped down to the floor, crossing your legs and sitting between adam and george. looking around, you noticed that everyone was on some level of a high. ross was chattier and more confident than usual, which you enjoyed as you've grown to like him quite a bit. he was always a sweet one. adam looked like he was about to fall asleep, but kept reassuring everyone that he was wide awake. sure. being high looked good on george and he knew it. the fucker was just so effortlessly cool, running his hand through his hair, joint between his fingers. you had to look away, it was just too much for you to handle at the moment. then there was matty, who couldn't stop giggling at something the girl besides him was saying. you noticed the same girl put her hand on his arm and it make you feel a strange sensation. you weren't sure why, though.

a loud clap echoed in the room. "alright, everyone, here we go. i'll be the brave one and start." george announced while he spun the empty bottle of wine on the floor. you watched as the bottle slowed down, lifting your head to take notice of the lucky chosen person, none other than ross macdonald. he shot george a look, let out a big sigh, then laughed when it finally hit him what he had to do. "fine!" he conceded, getting up and stumbling over to plant a kiss right on george's lips. he immediately cupped ross's face, returning the kiss with a satisfying smack, leaving you pretty certain they'd done this before. there were cheers and some claps, making george feel smug and ross blushing as he settled back down.

next up was matty. he spun the bottle in one swift movement, landing on... ross. "looks like luck's on your side today, macdonald." the taller boy rolled his eyes, took a quick drag of his joint, and rose up to walk towards matty. he knelt before his friend, and this time it was ross who gently cupped the curly boy's face, pulling him close until their lips met. you could tell that gesture made matty excited as his hands tangled in soft brown hair. there was no question that tongues were involved, and only breaking apart once ross pushed matty away, cheeks flushed as he headed back to his seat.

the game continued and to your dismay, george ended up kissing and feeling up the very pretty girl who sat next to matty. adam had to kiss ross (surprise), but this one was just a quick peck on the lips. then it was your turn.

"let's see who gets the pleasure of kissing her. i can assure you won't be disappointed," george joked and you stuck up two fingers right in front of his face. "it won't be you, if that's what you're hoping." you smirked and grabbed the bottle.

it wasn't until you had it in your hand that you realized how high you were, immediately making you nervous of fucking up the kiss. such a childish concern, but you couldn't help it in you state. you put the bottle on the floor, giving it a hasty spin and silently praying it wouldn't point to george. it wouldn't be the worst as you'd know what to expect but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction, especially not in front of others.

it felt like the bottle took ages to slow down and once it stopped, your ears started ringing, drowning everyone's cheers as you realized matty had to kiss you.

you slowly sat back down on your heels, tugging at the hem of your skirt and feeling your cheeks turn bright red. it wasn't until you lifted your gaze that you noticed matty had stood up and was walking in your direction, stopping to kneel right in front of you.

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you as if asking for permission to continue. you mindlessly bit your bottom lip and he took this as a his cue, leaning forward, pressing his mouth to yours.

maybe it was the weed or the adrenaline or both, but you were certain time stopped at that moment, which allowed you to melt on his lips. he tasted like honey and it was intoxicating. to your surprise, you kissed back eagerly, grabbing at the collar of his white shirt, bringing him closer to you.

again, it was probably the drugs, but you thought you heard him quietly moan when your thumb lightly touched the side of his neck.

you didn't want it to end, but you had to pull away as you had no idea how much time had passed. opening your eyes, you found matty's soft gaze fixed on yours. you smiled at each other and laughed nervously, yet no awkwardness was felt between the both of you.

suddenly you realized you still had a tight grip on his collar. "oh, um, sorry." you let go, trying to tidy down his now wrinkled shirt. "no worries," he murmured quietly, planting a quick peck on your cheek followed by another on your lips.

matty got up to go back to his spot, but not before he told george that he was right, you were indeed an excellent kisser. the tall boy just glared at matty and decided that the game was over because it was getting boring. you couldn't help but burst out laughing, prompting george to storm out of the room. oops.

"what's gotten into him now?" the blissfully oblivious, high adam asked. "i reckon matthew might have just kissed the girl he fancies," ross mentioned while getting up to fetch another joint. adam looked at you. oooh.

you chuckled and stood up, glancing over your shoulder to find deep caramel eyes gazing longingly in your direction once more.

[attapullman]

Good at Makin' Bad Decisions | Rhett Abbott

Summary: Even a year after you've broken up, after a night of drinking you still end up in Rhett Abbott's bed.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: f! reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, fingering, swearing, alcohol, healthy dash of praise k!nk as usual

A Note From Mo: I blame reading an old fic I desperately wanted to re-write and having covid, strep, and my period all at the same time for whatever the fuck this is. Anyway, happy 6 months since the last time I wrote Rhett! xoxo

There’s something about waking up in a bed that isn’t yours that causes an anxiety like none other. Especially when the night before is a hazy blur. And you aren’t wearing any pants.

Wait, where are your pants?

Creamy morning light bleeds through the thin plaid curtains in the room. From your spot half-buried under the comforter, you notice the vaguely familiar rodeo posters tacked up on the wall and dust-covered flannels on the floor. The slight tinge of boy sweat engulfs the room. Definitely not a Tillerson room, but who the fuck did you go home with?

A quick body scan results in these observations:

Your jeans were long gone, but cheekies and tshirt still remained.

Your head was splitting open from the axe of a bad hangover.

Based on the groan that did not come from your body, there was definitely another person in the bed. And they were awake.

You flip over in bed, panicked. Praying to God that beside you is some random Wabang townie. But you would know those dark, grown out curls anywhere. He may be turned toward the wall, but you know him better than you know yourself.

“Rhett?”

A tentative hand leaves the warm cocoon of blankets to roughly shove your ex’s shoulder. He grunts with consciousness and a veiny hand rises up to rub at his eyes. Takes a moment to rake through those unruly curls. Flipping over onto his back, bright ultramarine eyes quirk up at you. 

“Good mornin’ to y’too, sunshine.”

It’s hard to remember everything you want to say when he’s looking entirely too delectable for the morning hours. Something you’d sweetly told him during your relationship, but after your swift uncoupling it’s downright rude of him.

“Why am I in your bed?” His eyes roll slightly as he lifts up onto his right arm, rolling the thick, labor-built muscles of his neck and back. It’s mesmerizing, watching him work out the kinks that come with his profession. Your eyes unable to leave where his hand massages over that bronc tattoo you’re still weak over. “We didn’t sleep together, did we?”

He’s sexy as hell, but you’ve been doing a really good job avoiding him the past year.

“D’ya not remember any of last night?” Your head shakes, cheeks heating. “Not even a little? Oh fuck, really? You had quite t’night, darlin’.”

The color completely drains from your face. In your hey day, the two of you could drink the bar under the table, stumbling out of the Handsome Gambler with the sloppiest grins and even sloppier kisses. Drunken shenanigans were the norm. 

But since your breakup last year, nights out had been quiet. A beer or two, a tequila shot when the time called. Your friends don’t have the tolerance of a bull rider. And neither do you anymore, since you can’t remember much past that third shot of Don Julio.

How had you landed in bed with Rhett Abbott? 

As you watch him roll out his other shoulder, it’s like no time has passed since that night. Sitting in his truck, the front porch light on as your roommates wait for you to come in. Deciding that if he’s gonna be traveling the mountain states to make a name for himself, it’s not fair for you to be sitting at home worrying what bone would break. You can’t take off weeks to follow him around. You’re too young to sit around pining. He can’t handle all that time away from you. It just makes sense to call it quits. And yet tears poured down both your cheeks when you shut that truck door for the last time, Rhett Abbott no longer your business.

Why are you here?

Blinking back the ghost of tears, you clear your throat. “What kind of night exactly?”

In the past, a night of too much tequila in Rhett’s bed would have had Royal knocking on the door at an ungodly hour and Cecelia giving you an exasperated yet playful look when you snuck out the back door in the morning. 

“Do ya really want t’know what happened?” He’s leaning against the headboard, broad chest in view, sheets low on his hips. You say one last prayer that he’s wearing sweats so that you can still believe that you didn’t have a blackout fuck with your ex.

“I’m scared to ask,” you admit, the gentle smirk on his face confirming that this story is not going to paint you in a flattering light. 

Rhett’s head tilts down as he laughs, teeth flashing as the hearty grumble fills the room. Looks back up at you with that boyish mischievous grin you’ve loved for years. There’s a pillow indent still marring his cheek. Your heart lurches for him, for when you could call him yours.

His lip quirks. “Ya threw a rock at m’window in the middle o’the night. Begged me to let ya in. Told ya to go home, but ya threatened t’wake up my folks.”

Your cheeks flame with shame. Drunk you was not in your corner.

“Snuck ya in the back door, like ol’ times. Said yer friends had dropped ya off, so let ya stay until ya sobered up.” The burning embarrassment lifts a little, imagining you quietly climbing in bed and sleeping. But that unruly mischievous smile is back. “Then ya started tellin’ me how much you miss my cock and asked t’go for a ride.”

A hole opening in the earth and swallowing you couldn’t make you escape this embarrassment.

“Please tell me I didn’t-”

“Oh, but y’did, darlin’. It wouldn’t be a drunk night out with ya without asking for m’fingers. Practically gagging for it as I got ya upstairs.” He’s radiating pride. You risk a glance at those thick, calloused fingers. Yep, you can see yourself begging for even just one of them.

“Then ya started strippin’ off yer pants…forgot how cute yer booty looks shakin’ like that.” He lets out a joyful grunt, the happiest sound a cowboy ever did make. “Had to hold yer hands to yer side to keep it from bein’ a free strip show.” 

You swallow down every ounce of your dignity, the scene playing behind your eyes. Those strong hands wrapped around your biceps. Your cheeky comments, grinding your ass on any part of him you could. The lack of inhibitions on your part was concerning, but when had you ever been able to restrain yourself when it came to Rhett?

His giggles fade as you both sit against the rough wooden headboard, the one that is nearly as old as this creaky house. In the silence of the room you can now hear the busy sounds of his folks making breakfast. Figures they still have that louder than sin coffee machine. You could really use a cup.

He shifts beside you, the energy in the room softer. “Ya know, after y’fell asleep, I kept on thinkin’ about all the times ya stayed over here. Nights in the pasture. We were s’good…” He trails off, the silence filled with reminders of rushed kisses between rides, lazy afternoons on horseback, and too many days spent in the barn pretending to do chores while the two of you fell in love. 

It was you. You couldn’t handle the broken bones. The purpled bruises week after week. He loved it, and you couldn’t take that from him. So you had left a part of yourself with him and spent the past year pretending like you weren’t missing a limb. It was him. He didn’t want to be always missing home. Canceling rides purely so he could drive hours back here. He cut his losses before he was in too deep, spending the last year acting like a chunk of his heart wasn’t permanently cemented in you.

When you two crossed paths in town you exchanged sad glances and half-hearted smiles. Nights at the Handsome Gambler a drink was raised in greeting. It was as painful and as amicable as a breakup could be. But this was the closest the two of you had been since that night in his truck. The most you’d spoken other than forced hello’s. The most you’d touched since that last kiss goodbye.

Looking into those impossibly deep oceans he calls eyes, there was an emotion that you couldn’t read. His smile gone, thin lips bitten as he worried them between his teeth. Mirth replaced with angst.

You need to get out of here.

“M’sorry for interrupting your night. You know my libido has her own brain when I drink. Give me ten and I’ll be out of your hair - think Ce will notice me going out the back door?”

You’re barely off the bed when an arm, all hard muscle and thick veins, wraps around your bicep and brings you to a warm chest. “I-I…just for a minute, ‘kay?”

It’s the best you’ve felt in so long. Safe, warm. He’d shaped perfectly to accommodate you. It’s only natural to scoot closer into him, blurring the lines of ended relationships to seek his comfort.

Rhett’s heartbeat is solid beneath your cheek, speed picking up when you curl into him and run your hand along his side. The rumble of his chest vibrates as he clears his throat. “Ya don’t have t’ leave. I like havin’ ya here, missed holding’ ya, yer so soft.”

You hum in agreement and then there’s a beat, and you can almost see the bashful grin splitting his face. “And yer s’sexy in those panties.”

At least you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.

One of those perfectly large, comforting hands slides down your side, hitching your hip up so you can straddle his thigh. That thick expanse of pure muscle was exactly where you belonged.

You were already here, already embarrassed yourself. Might as well go the whole way.

“Rhett?” His eyes latch onto yours, eager to hear from you. “I don’t have to go. If you want to, uh, catch up?” If his hungry smirk wasn’t an indicator, the twitch in his boxers below speaks volumes.

Aware there’s an old house with no sound proofing and an entire family downstairs eating bacon, he rolls you over onto your back, rippling biceps boxing you in. That confident smirk that looks as in place in bed as it does atop a two ton bull. The hungover logic in your brain pleading you to go home not nearly as strong as the instant spring of your legs landing either side of his hips.

His lips ghost over yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitance. The slightest groan left you, eager to feel him. Taste him.

“Please…please don’t tease me.” His smirk is bordering on arrogant as you wrap impatient hands around strong shoulders. Your libido was making her triumphant return after not being satisfied the night before, pooling in the apex of your thighs as he presses against you. You want Rhett, and you want him now.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, a shadow of the real thing. “If y’can be quiet f’me, I’ll give you m’fingers, darlin’.”

Dignity fades to the back of your brain as you quickly nod at him, lips pressed close like a good girl.

Scruff scratches along your jaw as he hums along your skin, pressing his weight to one side as calloused fingers make their way south, slipping and catching against your soft skin. Both your eyes fluttering as cotton is pushed aside and he finds your clit, rubbing the softest of circles. His little chuckle at how wet you already are. Small whimpers leaving you before he finally tilts his head down to smother your lips in a warm, soft kiss.

Fuck, he’s an even better kisser than you remember.

Running a hand through those unruly curls, letting the dark hair tangle between your fingers as you fight to keep your moans contained. A struggle as he presses deliciously on the button, delighted at how you squirm against him. Lips ghosting against your ear as he moans your name. “Doin’ s’good for me.”

While his thumb continues its mind numbing descent on your clit, the tips of his fingers brush against your folds. He knows you love a tease, the promise of what’s to come. His special trick to getting you to your orgasm in less time than he rides a bull.

“R-Rhett.” Your voice is barely audible, struggling to keep yourself from screaming his name to the heavens. Your fingers never feel this good, nothing could ever be as satisfying as his touch. Your pathetic whimpers picking up speed as the blinding white pleasure threatened to overtake you.

“Are ya gonna cum for me, darlin’? Y’know y’want to. Cum for me, baby girl, show me how good I make y’feel.”

Scruff against your neck and jaw as he showers you in kisses, whispers praises in your ear, fingers stroking and rubbing and bringing you closer to the promised land. Slips that wild tongue between your lips, groaning at your familiar taste, and that’s all it takes.

A thousand years could pass and you would still remember how all-consuming every orgasm is that Rhett Abbott has given you. The flash behind your eyes, the constriction of your chest. Thanking the good Lord that Rhett’s tongue is deep in your mouth to shush the pleasured scream that threatens to escape. 

You settle from your orgasm with soft kisses and his wet fingers trailing along your skin, soothing you. Not that it’s easy to be soothed when his erection is throbbing against your thigh. He’s hot and ready, prepared to take you all the ways he’s denied himself the past year.

You’re doing the mental math. Your ex giving you an orgasm isn’t that bad. Fucking him? That’s the kind of mistake you can’t undo and should be avoided.

But when you look in those midnight blue eyes, all reason hightails out the door. It’s just sex - not a relationship - you two are so good at sex. And it’s been so long since you’ve taken him for a proper ride.

Your fingers sink into the back of his boxers, itching to sink your fingers into the meat of his ass - hard and toned from hours riding. Tease him a little by pressing a kiss to that scruffy chin as he ushers you along, desperate to be inside you.

Just as you get the checkered material past his cheeks, there’s a knock at the door. Rhett’s a deer in the headlights above you; wide, scared eyes aimed at the door.

It’s Cecelia, speaking through the wood as she walks past with the laundry. “Rhett, hurry up, y’got chores in the barn.” 

The two of you exchange a glance, relief at being in the clear.

“Oh, and sweetie? Since you’re still here, if you want breakfast, there’s some extra bacon.”

Abandoning my normal tag list since it's not Bob and tagging some fellow Rhett bb's who might enjoy: @bobfloydsbabe @sorchathered @bobgasm @auroralightsthesky @creatchie8 @just-in-case-iloveyou @ryebecca @sebsxphia @lewmagoo

[jesswritesthat]

Iwaizumi Hajime: Brothers’ Best Friend

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: 2.5k, fluff

• It can be hard when you catch feelings for your brother best friend, but the least you can do is be mature about it and turn it into a game.

Warnings: a few insults

>>>>——————————>

Iwaizumi Hajime had been 5 things to you over the years, some you'd regretted, many you'd denied, but there's 1 he'd finally accept.

———

He was your ‘brothers’ best friend.

Even from a young age, Iwaizumi Hajime had always captured your interest - most would often sway towards Oikawa but considering he was your older brother figure as your families were quite close, you saw quite enough of him already.

To anyone, your favouritism was evident, including to Oikawas' parents who regularly took you to collect Tōru from his Volleyball club practices.

Gingerly you walked past the child players who varied in height but were all taller than you, some recognising you and side stepping so you could locate your targets faster.

All while Tōrus older sister filmed the humorous ritual. You strolled toward the familiar pair, Oikawa immediely breaking into a blinding smile and picking you up with a prideful greeting. Iwaizumi halted beside his partner whilst he lifted you (there was only 2 years between you but at this age you'd yet to grow).

However, it was not your brother you wanted - no, he held you in his arms only for you pout and kick in his grasp.

Adhering to his childish personality, the cute Setter scoffed whilst mumbling curses as he passed you to his best friend who had his arms open already, used to this familiar favouritism behaviour - a smug look sent to his partner as you settled immediately with a content grin.

Happily you allowed Hajime to manoeuvre you to a piggy back position and carry you over to your amused family.

"This'll be good blackmail in the future y'know, I think for all of you~" Tōrus sister finally pressing stop on the recording, you supposed that at her age she had it out for her 'siblings'.

———

He was a crush.

A phase you'd told yourself, just some ridiculous school girl crush that'd pass eventually because above all else, he was a good friend.

"Hi (Y/n), Iwaizumi is here y'know." Oikawas sister said it with a playful mirth to her silky tone, knowing smirk situated on her face upon seeing you light up.

"Iwa?! Really~"

"That's the guy you talk about, on the high school team with your 'brother' right?"

"Yes! You have to me him -them- c'mon." Eagerly you dragged your friend into the kitchen where the two volleyball players were conversing.

"Hey guys."

"Awh! Chibi-chan, did you miss me? I know I'm amaz—"

Fluently you ducked under his open arms, flying straight into the unsuspecting but easily prepared Iwaizumi who only groaned in reply.

"Tch, not as amazing as Iwa-chan apparently."

"You've grown (Y/n), and who’s your friend?"

"Yeah, that's how life generally works Iwaizumi, oh and this Yuki."

"Nice to meet you. Oi, careful, you sound like Crappykawa and one of those is enough thanks." Iwaizumi chided after introductions, leaving you shaking your head but excited to ask your next question.

"How was the game? God I can't wait to start Aobajohsai next year! I'll finally be able to watch you guys for real."

"We won 2-0. Next year you can come to our practices too. We still need a manager and since Crappykawa is going to be Captain, he might put in a good word."

"Not likely, especially since you'll take Iwas' side in everything." Oikawa sneakily replied, giving you a childish face which you naturally returned.

"That's because he's usually right Tōru."

Once finishing your conversation, you left for your own home like originally planned with Yuki, also glad she’d finally met the two most important people in your life.

“Wow, you’re big brother figure is really good looking~”

“Ew no, did you even meet Iwaizumi? He’s so cool, he’s the arm wrestling champion at Aobajohsai.”

“You know we don’t stand a chance, they’ll be thirds years whilst we’re first years.” She’d awkwardly added, but you remained charismatically confident.

“You’re not thinking ahead, I’ll have a chance one day but until then there’s a bunch of cute guys in our year.”

“Yes, speaking of, I finally got the courage to speak to Tadashi-kun today~”

———

He was a protector.

"Back. Off." Every word was deadly punctuated, standing as a warning all on their own without needed the back up of Iwaizumis dangerous glare.

"Who are you?!" The pestered had glowered, having followed you from your friends’ party that night.

"Take another step and you'll find out."

"Iwaizumi, it's fine— I can handle this." You had every intention to, but Iwaizumi stood protectively in front of you and fingers twitching to punch this scoundrel if he dared make a move to touch you, it was best to leave it.

"Whatever.” Then he was gone, storming off in the other direction much to your joint relief.

“(Y/n) you need to be more careful.”

“I was careful! That’s why I messaged Oikawa the second I noticed him following me.” Hold on, why the hell was Iwaizumi here then?

“Creeps will target students walking alone, especially ones like you.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m not and idiot an— what do you mean ‘like me’?”

“What? You’re, y’know— you’re ours!” He seemed stifled by his response but he couldn’t exactly tell you it’s because you were considered attractive.

"You can stop treating me like a baby, I'm 16 Hajime! I can take care of myself, besides..." There was brief hesitation but your emotions were too strong. "I need to get used to you and Tōru not being around, don't I?"

It was a low blow, you knew that, but had every right to be angry at both the world and him, especially with that bubbling feeling of betrayal being so fresh.

"What? So protecting you suddenly means I'm treating you like a child?"

"What else would it be?" You bit back again, knowing by this point you were only being hurtful.

"That I—" A pause.

"That I care about you dumbass, is that so hard to believe? I know you're growing up but that doesn't mean me -or Tōru- are gonna stop looking out for you just because we're on the other side of the world."

"Sure it doesn’t, I'm going home." Despite his words being full of honesty, you turned your back on him and started walking.

"I'll walk you."

"No, I'll walk myself thanks."

"It wasn't a request."

Eventually you arrived at Oikawas’ house, storming in and ditching your shoes in his porch - the pretty brunette heaving a knowing sigh. Oikawa would give you a minute, Iwa having now walked into the house moments after without a word, and that’s when Oikawa followed your path and hesitantly knocked on his own bedroom door for entry.

"Don't be mad at Iwa-chan."

"Yeah yeah 'he's only trying to look out for you' and 'Hajime is protective over people close to him', heard it all before Tōru." Came your muffled reply, face hidden in your arms on the setters bed.

"...Guess you have but uh, this is different."

"Tch."

"It's because he's going to miss you, our Ace won't ever admit that but it's true. Not seeing you and dealing with our chaos all the time will be weird for him. You were near the top of his list to tell once he’d made his decision about California y'know?" Tōru sat tentatively beside you, a reassuring hand patting your back in aid of comforting you.

"Doesn't make it hurt any less, finding out I'm not only losing my big brother but his best friend too."

"You're more upset about me though right?" There was a preganant pause, quite honestly you weren't exactly listening but it was enough for Oikawa to sit abruptly from the bed. "Right?!"

"Tōru!"

"Fine fine, I'm taking that as a yes, but anyway, Iwa-chan just wants to make sure you're gonna be okay in life before he leaves (Y/n)."

There was another silence, a quiet sob escaping you that you’d desperately tried to cover up.

"…Where were you? I needed you Tōru and you weren’t there…"

You felt him cease up, the pain laced your voice and he knew it was partly because it’ll be this way for the foreseeable future, but this time wasn’t his fault.

“Iwa-chan was here when I got your message, he was out the house before I could even put my shoes on. So I waited here for when you came back.” They really were the best team. “Anyway, I’ll prepare my sisters old room for you to stay tonight.”

Awkwardly you shuffled into the kitchen, finding the Ace situated at the table, already changed into a t-shirt and joggers he had here and tiredly brooding over some freshly made tea.

"Hey..." The quietened whisper from your lips surprised even you, let alone Hajime who looked up from his cup with a softening frown.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I um, I wanted to apologise. You were only trying to help and you even walked me home after I was a crappy friend so..."

"Anytime." There was a hanging silence again, hugging yourself a bit before the brunette awkwardly cleared his throat. "I uh, I understand you were upset, and butting in on the situation probably wasn't necessary so I'm sorry too. It just pissed me off."

"We're good then?"

"Yeah, we're good."

Pausing at the entrance, you sighed quietly - bare feet quickly tapping on the floor and before Hajime could check the origin you'd engulfed him from behind, arms wrapped around his chest and nose buried in the nape of his neck.

"I'll miss you too Hajime."

You heard his breath hitch, muscles tensing under your touch and tentative fingers gracing your own with a gently sigh.

Then you pulled away slightly, the same moment he'd looked back to you, gazes meeting for only a few sacred seconds like sharing a thousand words. Softly you smiled, both of you laughing as your fingers slipped from his figure and you'd walked back to the guest room. Only to find Oikawa sat expectantly on the bed waiting for you.

"You tell him?"

"Not quite. But I said enough."

———

He was a traitor.

Not a phase. It must be a familiarity thing then, Hajime had always been present in your life since you could remember. There wasn't a prolonged period of time when he hadn't been involved - at school, at home, with Oikawa, even on vacations, or via social media.

Maybe once he'd left, once he was no longer around, the constant familiarity wouldn't influence your feelings anymore.

For now though, when you were gifted a moment alone with him that’d likely be your last, you decided it couldn’t hurt to express your feelings. Calmly and nonchalantly.

"I like you Hajime."

"I like you too (Y/n)." He paused, soft and sentimental smile gracing his lips briefly as if resenting his next words. "But you know there's the age thing."

"I know, but I'm in it for the long game."

You could tell your confident statement caught him off guard, yes Iwaizumi knew the topic of conversation was to be handled with care but that didn’t mean he wasn’t perplexed by you.

"I don't want you to wait for me or anything, considering I'm heading to California."

"I had no intention of waiting, our paths will cross again. It's nice knowing you're out there, I'm out there, and we both know. That's enough." You shrugged, leaning back far too casually for the situation.

"Knowing we're both out in the world, I can play along with that."

"Besides, I'll win in the end Hajime."

"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure."

There was a playful smirk on your lips as you sat up a little straighter, hands clasped and head tilted in curiosity. "Well, date me now?"

"No way."

"Okay, then date me later?"

"..." Despite his snapping reply earlier, he now furrowed his brows in thought. "You don't even know what we'll being doing in the future."

"You're not saying no."

"..." A flicker of realisation when meeting your competitive gaze.

"See." You smirked. "That's what makes so sure."

"The long game huh?" Iwaizumi smiled "Count me in."

Oikawa joined you both then, stepping out onto the field and standing before your sitting figures.

"I'm still going to hate you though." A playful punch hitting Iwaizumis’ shoulder as you rose to your feet. "For leaving. I can't hide those feelings very well."

"I know, and it's okay. Hate me for as long as you need to."

“You two done? Let’s go~”

However it was the text later that night which left you more confused than ever.

[ Iwa: Finally. ]

[ (Y/n): Huh? ]

[ Iwa: I didn't give you an answer earlier, so that's it. ]

[ Iwa: Date you finally. ]

[ (Y/n): What does that mean? Eventually??? Later??? Iwaaaaa!!!! 😭 ]

[ Iwa: You're playing the long game remember?  So you'll just have to wait I guess. Anyways tell Shittykawa he better be up early tomorrow, night (Y/n) x ]

[ (Y/n): Tōrus' right, you are mean! 💀 ]

———

He was a friend.

"Someone grew up good." Iwaizumi nodded to you in greeting when you’d shown up to Oikawas’ family home, yourself gladly embracing the former traitor.

"Iwa-chan! That's my little chibi-chan!" Oikawa was quick to chastise, even at your expense.

"Tōru I'm not so little anymore, I'm a grown assed human with a job and rent for crying out loud!"

"With a petty attitude to boot." Oikawa mocked, sticking his tongue at you like you were children again.

"Wonder who they got that from Crappykawa?"

"How dare you compare me to him Iwaizumi?! That's it, we're enemies now - prepare to lose."

"I just got back from California, can't we do things normally for once? Like unpack, then celebrate my graduation by going out for dinner together like old times?"

Yourself and Oikawa looked at each other with offended expressions, mirroring smirks etching onto your lips once you'd set your attention back on an irritated Iwa.

"Nope!" You devilishly grinned, Oikawa already holding up Mario Kart controllers as he finished off.

"We're going to my place to have a tournament, loser buys dinner!"

"Idiots."

“Woah, us ‘idiots’ threw you a graduation party. We’re the best friends ever, you should be thanking rather than insulting us y’know.” Oikawa pointedly corrected referring to the destination later tonight.

“Yeah, when Tōru got back from the airport, we even tried making you a cake!”

“Guys… thanks so much…”

“Iwa-chan, congratulations on your graduation.” Tōru proudly cemented, next you gladly followed. “And welcome home.”

———

He was the love of your life.

It was a beautiful summers night in Tokyo, and you'd come to congratulate Iwaizumi on his recent job offer as the Japanese Olympic Volleyball Teams fitness trainer.

You didn't think you'd be sitting beside him staring up at the stars though, a blissful warm breeze allowing you to truly feel the moment.

It seemed Iwaizumi was the same, content smile upon his face.

"It's nice to see you (Y/n), I'm glad you made it."

"Well it's easier when you don't have to catch a flight from the other side of the world." It was evident to whom you’d referred, his absence always being felt in some way.

"Heh, yeah I got to speak to him over video chat though."

"Ugh that means he didn't get the slaps he deserves." Was your witty reply, Iwaizumi laughing alongside you.

"Nah, but don't worry I managed to scold him for anything ridiculous he came out with."

"Like beating everyone?"

"Exactly. With the team I'm gonna train, I'll kick his ass." It amazed you, that even as best friends their rivalry continued into adulthood.

"I hope you both do well Hajime."

"Hm, I hope Japan and Argentina get to face one another most of all."

"You miss him."

"Yeah." A sentimental smile and Iwa turned to you. "And I miss you too."

The atmosphere once again settled into that of comfortable tranquility. You supposed there was only one last thing to say then.

"Well Iwaizumi Hajime, I have one last question for you tonight."

"I know, you've been waiting. So go ahead." It was a challenge, the brunette facing you with an expectant smirk that matched your own.

"Date me now?"

"Don't you remember? I said date you, finally."

"Finally?" You mimicked again, still not knowing what he’d meant by that phrase.

"Guess the long game is over now huh?" Iwaizumi shrugged nonchalantly, despite his mocking tone which only left you sarcastically retorting.

"Shut up asshole."

"It meant, I may not have been your first love (Y/n), but I have every intention of being your last." His sentiment surprised you, especially if this is the thought he had when typing that text all those years ago. "If that's okay with you obviously."

"It is Hajime, then it's your call."

"(Y/n), will you finally go on a date with me?"

"No." You'd said it proudly, Hajime only knowingly smirking. "You don't get to take the victory lap now. This is my game, and I asked you first. You owe me an answer."

"Ah man, it was worth a shot but the only true loss here is missing the chance to be with you so yeah."

"Don't get all sappy on me Hajime! It doesn't suit you."

"Hey! I said I'd date you (Y/n), aren't I supposed to be a little sentimental with that." Though he seemed confident, Iwaizumi hadn’t hidden his blush very well.

"You might want to make another call to Oikawa, I'm sure dating his 'Chibi-chan' will have him back here in no time. Don't you need his permission huh?"

"Already got it." Iwaizumi seemed smug about it, no doubt probably asking prior to this encounter since he already knew what you wanted to ask - but you had your own surprises.

"Funny, I did too."

"You asked his permission to date me?!"

"Duh, you're his best friend. I got permission before you even left for California~"Not explicitly, but you assumed Oikawa had always known how you felt.

"You really had me from the start didn't you?"

"Yeah, but you had me too Iwa.”

Iwaizumi Hajime was (and had been) your everything. But you were always his everything too.

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[sirhamburrger]

episode two: blunt - shinsuke kita

kai's halloween '24 miniseries - a halloween to remember!!

CONTENT WARNINGS: light angst with happy ending, fluff, kita is insecure about his educational background and his line of work, yumie kita has passed on :(

EPISODE RUNTIME: 752 words || previous (episode one) || next (episode three)

moodboard

shinsuke kita has always been a blunt person. 

to every neighbour’s child he tutored, when pointing out their mistakes. to his teammates back in high school, when he needed them to buck up. to his farm employees, when the work isn’t getting done. speaking his mind is natural to him and has always been a good thing.

he knows your friends think lowly of him, though. long-distance is already hard enough, but when you’re meeting up with your friends once a week for brunch to hear them badmouth him, how is shinsuke supposed not to feel insecure about the relationship? you seem to have it all - high-paying job, good work-life balance, cozy little apartment in tokyo. he's just a country bumpkin with little more than a high school education and a conviction to grow rice. he's far too rough around the edges for you, they say. far too crude. too blunt.

so what do you even need him for?

it's definitely a surprise to him when you come all the way down to his rice farm in rural hyogo, carting five large pumpkins down the coarse dirt path in a rusty borrowed wheelbarrow. your clothes are crisp and your hair is perfect, a stark contrast to his wind-swept mop of black-tipped gray and the weathered flannel that hangs on his frame. he walks you back to the house, kneels by you as you pay your respects at his grandmother's altar. for the most part, he's happy you've come to visit. overjoyed, even. but the lingering doubt in the back of his mind makes him less vocal with you than usual. 

now, he sits in front of the house and carves pumpkins with you.

“shin?”

“hmm?”

you scoot over in the dirt to lean on him. this inevitably soils your clothes some, and he feels a pang of guilt in his chest. “i missed you, you know?” 

as you speak, you hold the pumpkin up to your eye level.  the mouth is crooked and the eyes are different sizes. “i know you can't visit often, but…” your voice trails off, and you seem unsure of what you want to say.

“sorry,” he says simply, hoping you know he means it. you nod mutely, and the two of you resume carving.

shinsuke focuses on the blade in his hand as he carves another line into the hard orange surface. he's had this knife for a long time; it was from his grandfather, and his grandmother passed it on to him when he turned eighteen. it's nice, but the blade is nowhere near as sharp as it used to be. even so, he manages to carve out decently regular shapes, even as you struggle to do the same with a sharper blade.

why do you still put up with him?

he must have said this out loud, because you’re setting your pumpkin down and staring at him like he's just grown a second head.

“what makes you think that?” you ask quietly.

he sets the old knife down.

“i'm jus’ not deserving of ya,” he finds himself admitting, his words catching in his throat uncomfortably as he speaks. “i can't keep up with yer busy city life. i can't even visit ya because i'm always busy. i can't provide for ya the way other guys can. you should be in a nice cozy apartment right now, not in the middle of nowhere spendin’ yer precious time off with some… useless country bumpkin.”

“shin… do you really think i'd be here right now if i didn’t want to?” you take his hands gently in yours, and he tries to meet your eyes as best as he can. “is this about what my friends have been saying?”

for once, shinsuke doesn’t feel like being quite as blunt as usual. “...maybe?”

“you know i don’t care about that!”

“ah.” he looks at the pumpkins on the ground, and they smile back at him. when he looks back at you, you’re smiling too.

“shin, you’ve always been more than good enough for me. nothing anyone says will change that. besides, i like you honest.” you wink at him, and he thinks he’s just fallen in love with you all over again, as you pick up your sad-looking pumpkin and laugh at how it looks.

shinsuke kita has always been a blunt person. but he’s blunt in the way a weathered old blade is, strong and unyielding, and he takes comfort in the fact that you love him for it.

DIRECTOR'S NOTE:

day two done (why am i on a roll!!)

@/nectardaddy's '88 ford series inspired! i'm a sucker for kita honestly

i am in just the right mood to write light angst iykyk

TAGLIST: open, send an ask to be added!

borders are by @saradika-graphics!

© sirhamburrger 2024

[cemeteryspider]

A Healing Touch~ Part 1

Rex-Splode! Rex Sloan x Superpowered! Reader

Summary: Working at the Superhero Hospital under Cecil was not something you looked forward to, until Rex Sloan comes in, close to death, and you have a chance to save him in more ways than you could imagine.

Trigger Warnings: Violence, Death, Injury, and Emotional Distress

Word Count: 1139

Every day you spent at your dads work the more you wished you had just stayed home. Every day you left and shadowed your dad at the hospital for superheroes he works at. You and your dad shared a power. You were able to direct the healing process in the bodies of others, allowing broken bones to heal in a fraction of the time, shrink tumors given enough time, and so much more that you were learning by shadowing your dad.

You watch him perform routine checkups on Black Samson, surgeries on Night Boy after his tussle with Invincible, and now the biggest attack on a superhero team since the original Guardians of the Globe were killed in the fight that also took your mother's life.

There was no time to think about that when you saw all the Dupli-Kates wheeled in on a stretcher, unmoving, and most certainly not breathing. Shrinking Ray, covered in goo and blood, again not moving but with a woman on her chest performing chest compressions. Lastly, a boy with a missing left hand and a hole in the front of his skull.

His head shifted as the gurney made its sharp turns into what you knew was trauma one, while Shrinking Ray went into trauma two, and Dupli-Kate into a different room which you knew people rarely came out of.

You made a move to follow but he just shook his head and closed the door. You spent the night at the hospital because your dad spent 19 hours working on the boy in trauma one.

When he walked out of the room he put his head in his hands and sat down next to you. Explained how the treatments and the surgeries didn't fully heal him. That he had something to ask of you.

"Your healing aura will help... him. If you stay in his room while he recovers, his chance of recovery increases exponentially. You can say no if you-"

"I can do this, Dad. My first job" You sat and smiled at each other for a minute.

"You're good, you know that?" You made eye contact with him, and gave him a little smile.

"Thanks, Dad. It means a lot coming from you"

"Your mom would be so proud of the person you've become"

He escorted you to the room where the boy lay, his chest steadily rising and falling, half his skull covered in a machine, all his hair shaved. Even in this state, you saw the beauty he radiated.

Quickly you shoved the thoughts out of your head and brushed away your father's concerns of leaving you at the hospital alone. You were grown, and most of all you were ready for some responsibility. 

~~~

The next few days were a blur. You found yourself pacing the room, or the hallway just outside to get your blood flowing. Reading in the chair next to him, sometimes out loud in case he could hear you. Or asleep curled up in the chair beside his bed. Often nurses came in and asked you questions about how he was doing, and if anything had changed.

You had taken to answering these questions in as professional a manner as you could muster. Often the nurses would smile at you and tell you to hit the call button if anything changed. Your dad came in sometimes to check the healing progress and remarked how quickly he seemed to be healing.

Sometimes his friends would come by, and you excused yourself leaving the room to give them their privacy. Sometimes you would check up on your dad and his patients or go to the cafeteria to get a coffee. His friends visited a lot, with Eve, Atom Eve, visiting the most. You often wondered to yourself if they were a couple, but again shut the thoughts out of your head.

~~~

You lay on your stomach on the floor next to the bed, reading your fourth book in the past 3 days when you heard a groan from above you.

Shooting to your feet you saw who you've come to know as Rex's eyes looking around the room and trying to move his limbs. You quickly hit the call button with shaky hands to alert a nurse and stood next to him.

"Rex. You're okay. You are injured and you are in recovery. Please stay calm," You had been preparing for this in the days you spent in this room, but it made your throat tight and your hands clammy at the moment.

"Wha's happening?" which came out a little more like "wash hapin"

Nurses quickly swarmed his bedside to take vitals and look into his eyes when his hand closed around yours. He squeezed your hand as the nurses and doctors poked and prodded at his wounds, and you just stood there watching it happen.

Nurses drew blood from his arm, shined lights in his eyes, and tested reflexes. They rushed out with samples and in with pain medication. The lights were being brightened and dimmer everything made you want to turn and run, but still Rex held your hand in his. Grounding you as you were his lifeline to a hint of normalcy.

Once the doctors and nurses left he fell asleep again, and your hand loosened from his iron grip. You pulled your chair up next to his and before you could stop yourself, put your hand on top of his.

~~~

A whisper pulled you from your sleep, "Eve?"

His speech was more clear than it was just a few hours ago, and you sat up realizing that your head was resting on the hospital bed with your hand on top of his.

"Oh, no, sorry, my name's Y/n, and I've been helping you heal the past week or so" You pulled your hand away but he gently grabbed your wrist, but let go when he saw your raised eyebrows and wide eyes.

"Shit, sorry, your hand was fine there, it actually felt pretty good," You rested your hand on his again with a slight smile, "You were talking to me... when I was asleep"

You nodded your head, "Yeah, sometimes I would talk to you, and sometimes I would read to you. I figured you might get bored if you could hear me but I wasn't saying anything. Sorry if that bothered you"

"No, it was nice. Would you mind reading to me some more, ya know, until I fall asleep"

"I can do that Rex,

November 7, 1991, Dear friend, It was one of those days that I didn’t mind going to school because the weather was so pretty. The sky was overcast with clouds, and the air felt like a warm bath. I don’t think I ever felt that clean before..."

Barely audible you heard Rex mumble, "Thank you"

[luvleeknowie]

ᴡᴄ: 3358

ᴛᴡ/ᴄᴡ: ᴅᴏᴍ!ᴄʜᴀɴ ▪︎ ꜱᴡɪᴛᴄʜ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ▪︎ ꜰᴀᴄᴇꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ▪︎ ᴏʀᴀʟ (ꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍ ʀᴇᴄɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ) ▪︎ ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ( ꜱʟᴜᴛ, ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ, ʙᴀʙʏ) ▪︎ ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇꜱ-ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ʙᴜᴅᴅʏ? ▪︎ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ.

(ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢꜰᴜʟ) Qᴜᴏᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ: "ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏ. ʏᴇᴀʜ!"

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

The door to the classroom bangs open to reveal Chan. Bang fucking Christopher Chan. He's standing near the doorframe with his bag swung over one of his shoulders. The teacher abruptly stops from whatever it was they were writing on the board and gives a piercing stare at the boy.

"Bang Chan, might as well have waited until class finished before returning." The teacher says sarcastically.

Chan halts in his steps.

"Yeah no, I was actually thinking that but I decided to come just in case...however if you insist-" He says turning on his heels.

"Bang... Christopher...chan.." the teacher says, gritting her teeth.

"If you think you are sooo damn funny, how about you stay back after school to clean up this entire classroom. Miss a bit and you'll be back tomorrow to do it again. Understand?" She says, retuning to the board.

He grits his teeth but takes a seat nonetheless. About 10 minutes later, the bell rings, and chans the first one on his feet.

"Hey guys, you know what funny?" The teacher says, poking her tongue in the inside of her cheek. "

"How I didn't ask anybody to get out of their seats. This is the last time I'm gonna tell you: the bell doesn't dismiss you, I do." She says.

"And don't think for a second that I forgot about the homework. Hand it in, in register order. Only after the first person puts their essay on my desk and leaves can the second person get up, this way I can have a clear view on who has done their work and who hasnt."She says, smiling devilishly.

"Fuck! There was homework?!" I whisper yell at my friend, Yeji, beside me.

"Gurl. I messaged you about this last night. Don't tell me you..." Yeji face palms.

Chan snickers as he gets up to put his paper away and leave. Asshole. Yeji also gets up to put her paper upfront. I try and act as if I'm looking for my paper in my bag, you know the saying "fake it till you make it"? Well that's basically my life motto.

"Kang Y/N." The teacher calls out to me.

I wear ms bag before walking to my teacher, with my head hanging low.

"Let me guess. Your dog ate it again?" She says, her arm crossed and her feet tapping the carpet floor.

"Y/N, this isn't you're first nor the second time. Hell, it isn't even the third time but seventh!!" She yells.

"Gosh, its your seventh time forgetting you're homework this month." She sighs emphasising the word 'month'.

"Sorry Miss, its just that-" She cuts me off.

"Uh- I don't want to hear it. You can join Chris later today." She says.

I take a quick glance at the doorframe to see chan holding his stomach, whilst laughing hysterically. Just you wait till this idiots done with me Christopher.

"Get out of my classroom! Next, kaeo yuruki." I walk out the classroom.

"My dog ate my homework." Chan mimicks, giggling to himself as I walk past. It takes every single cell in my body, not to punch that stupid grin off his face. That handsome yet equally annoying face.

Time skip~

°

°

°

°

The final school bell rings, the teachers and students stampede out of the building. I do too when suddenly Yeji stops me.

"Y/Nah, you've got detention, remember?" She says.

"I'll just skip, what's she gonna do anyway? Call my parents? Exclude me?" I reply reassuringly.

"That's actually not a bad idea Y/N." A voice booms behind me.

Shit. What's she doing here?

"What're you doing Y/N? I thought I made it clear that you're cleaning the classroom. Go on now, I have to get home within 10 minutes. Here are the room keys, the caretakers leave at approximately 5pm and baring in mind that the room usually takes 4 grown adults to clean youll probably be here till 6." She says shoving the key in my face.

I bow before heading back. Yeji gives me a sympathetic smile before leaving. I open the classroom door, and boy was it a mess. I begin tidying up the teachers desk. I hear the classroom door open and then close shut. I turn around to see Bang Chan.

Me and him have never really been on good terms. When I first moved to this school, he asked me out and I rejected him infront of the whole school, baring in mind he was the most popular kid in school. This ruined his pride, self image and more vital aspects that keeps one at the top of a school hierarchy. Ever since then, we have been naturally sworn enemies. However, a very noticeable difference is that he was the most sought-after boy in the whole school - rich, handsome, smart, and athletic. Everybody wanted to be with him while I was just...me. A normal middle class girl with average grades, average friends, average body and average image.

He just walks in, shuts the door and plops himself on one of the decks, watching my every move like a freaking hawk.

"You got anything better to do than stare at me like a freak?" I ask him, rolling my eyes.

"Actually, no. Not when you look so fucking sexy while wiping the desk I'm gonna use to fuck you later." He replies, just as I was gonna look back.

Well that was....direct?? And random??

I feel a pair of arms snaking around my waist and soft lips brushing against the side of my neck.

"Ch-chan..."I stutter, as my bottom lip quivers.

He releases his hold on me and chuckles to himself.

"What wrong baby? What do you want?" He asks teasingly, placing small kisses on my neck.

"I want...please." I whimper, as his hands travel dangerously low.

Why am I losing control? I hate him. We just don't go well together. What's happening?

"What do you want Princess?" He teases.

"You chan. I want you. I want you to fuck me, eat me, ruin me."

He chuckles to himself before letting go off me. Earning himself a frustrated groan.

"Damn Y/N. Who would've thought that you were such a slut. All I did was back hug you and you already gave yourself in. And that too, to your sworn enemy. How pathetic." He says , smirking.

I mentally curse at myself for giving in so easily. I carry on tidying up the teachers desk before moving on to the students desks with chan just sitting there, awkwardly.

Chans POV:~

I initially didn't think I'd be sitting here, I was just gonna bunk detention however Mrs stupid Park caught me. Plus, I thought itd be fun to tease Y/N while I'm at it. You know?..for time pass. Unfortunately, my plan slightly slopped. That girl was doing a great deal of things to me.

When I first came in, I decided to tease her. A part of me felt bad but it was sexy hearing her whimper for me like that. However, the real deal started when she started to wipe the students desk. She bent down to pick up chewing gum from under the table, which lifted her skirt and revealed her baby pink laced panties. I sit in a really awkward position, trying my best for her not to notice my visible boner. That all changed when she moved towards me and bent down right infront of me to clean the desk I was sitting on. That pretty pussy sticking out with her head lightly bowing beneath me. I could feel my boner hardening to the point where it hurt like hell. Just as I was about to get down to leave this heated room, the sound of a key turning fills the room. Oh shit. I run up to the door and try opening it.

"HEY! HEY! IM IN HERE!" I say slamming on the door but to no avail.

"Jeez, calm down." A voice behind me startles me out of my worry.

"I've got the spare key." She says walking up to the door.

Y/N POV:~

I fumble with the lock for a bit and my face sinks, when the lights on the other side of the door turns off and the key doesn't unlock the door.

"Chan." I whisper.

"Hm?" He replies.

"I think...I think we're locked in." I say looking back at him.

"What? You said- are you sure?" He asks, regaining his strong composure.

I nod.

"Where's your phone?" I ask him sitting on  the nearest chair to me.

"In my car. What about you?" He asks me.

"I left it in my locker, since I was gonna do detention. So are we just stuck here?"

"Yup." He says, simply taking the seat directly in front of me so that we are both facing each other.

We just sit there for a few minutes, literally doing nothing. Just sitting. And thinking. It starts to get extremely hot, so I remove my blazer, revealing my tank top. It was a v-neck, so my cleavage was pretty exposed. I hear a gulping sort of sound, and I look up to see Chan staring down at me, his eyes lingering where they shouldn't for a little too long. I clear my throat, and he averts his gaze abruptly. His cheeks flush red.

"Why are you so shy all of a sudden?" I ask, walking up to him.

It's boring in here, who knows how long we'll be stuck in here for? Plus he teased me earlier so I think we can do with a little revenge.

"Do you not like to look at my chest?" A sudden gush of courage goes through me. I don't know what and why I'm doing what I'm doing, but the reaction on his face is simply priceless. To be honest, I'd be cringing if anybody asked me that question, however his facial expressions says other wise. It's as if he's getting turned on...

I start getting a bit frustrated by the lack of response. Slowly but surely I'll get him to move.

"You know what chan? Fuck it. You're hot. Infact you're beyond hot, you're- fuck. You're a divine. You're visuals, you're voice, you're hands- oh those fucking fingers..." I whisper, slowly losing control.

"Oh really? But I thought I was your "enemy,". He snickers.

"Fuck that." I reply hastily.

"We both now that I'd much rather fuck you." He grins.

"Oh cmere you-" I say, grabbing him by the collar and connecting our lips.

He tangles his fingers in my hair, deepening the kiss. He slowly sucks and bites on my lower lip before sliding his tongue in my mouth. He removes his hands from my hair and gropes my ass, all the while carrying me , and sitting me down on the corner of teachers desk.

"You have no damn clue.... how much.... I've wanted this." He says in between kisses.

I smile into the kiss and he slowly unbuttons my uniform blouse. I copy his actions on his first few buttons before unzipping his pants. I then unloosen his tie. Damn. Just imagining him fucking me with a loose tie and top buttons undone drives me insane. He finishes stripping me until all that's left is my under garments.

He reconnects our lips, before unclipping my bra and letting it fall down my arms. He throws it somewhere across the room. He then gently pushes me down so that I'm laying down on the desk. He looks down at me smirking, before lowers his head down on my clothed pussy and licks a stripe up it. I lift my hip up for him to discard my underwear, which he doesn't. Instead he takes it off and stuffs it in his pocket.

He takes a few moments to just stare me down, his eyes traveling from my lips, to my chest, to my stomach and finally my pussy. He takes a good 2 minutes just to stare and blow at my displayed private.

"What a pretty pussy. All for me." Is the last thing he says before practically diving in. He licks and sucks on my folds. In between every few sucks, he spits on it and watches as the spit swims down my folds.

After a while, I feel a familiar knot in my stomach. Honestly I'm not surprised I was so quick to feel my orgasm approaching. I mean not only is this man's tongue working magic, but his intense gaze on my clit is making me feel all sorts of things. It's making me feel special. As if I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"I'm gonna cum Chan."

I let my cum loose and watch it as it paints chans nose, and plump lips.

"You gonna fuck me now?" I ask, breathlessly. Gazing at his glistening face.

"No." He replies.

"What?" I ask him again, doubting my hearing. Was I not good? Did I make weird sounds?

"I want to taste you. More of you. I mean- if that's alright..." He says wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

I nod at him, and without wasting another second he takes my position on the desk, and lays himself down as I sit up.

"Sit on my face baby." He says. The fuck?

"Sit on your-  wait wouldn't that suffocate you- I don't wanna hurt-" Before I could even finish my sentence he grabs me by the hips and pushes me into his face. My eyes naturally roll back.

"That's right. Put all your weight on me. Suffocate me with that deliciously pretty pussy of yours Princess." He mutters, slurping at my wetness.

His nose gently hits my clit earning a series of moans from my mouth. His tongue explores more and deep into my pussy; one spot in particular catching my upmost attention.

"R-right there baby. Right there." I moan arching my back as he penetrates his tongue in and out of me.

I begin moving up and down on his face, concerns of his oxygen completely leaving my head and being replaced by pleasure. Bliss. Lust.

"Cmon baby. Cum for me." He growls into my cunt, the sensation making me go wild.

After a few more thrusts I release onto his tongue, which he happily collects. He then gathers somem of my cum in his tongue and shuffles back up to eye level before connecting our lips and pushing the excess cum into my mouth. I hum against his mouth.

"That was great! But now it's my turn." I say pushing him back down by the chest. He props himself up via his elbows and stares at me intently. I seductively crawl I over to him, until my face is just above his covered crotch, which by now is evidently hardened. I unzip his pants and take it down with his boxers, all the while maintaining eye contact. I then leave small licks across the base and side of his cock before taking it all in one go.

He wraps a handful of my hair around his fists and guides my head in and out of his dick. Making sure that his red leaking tip hits the back of my throat with each thrust.

"Ahhh~ fuck." He moans, tilting his head back.

The action, motivating me to carry on. I bop my head on his hardened member, rolling my tongue over his slit with my warm mouth around his thick, cock grants plenty of high pitched moans.

"Such a pretty sight. Watching those pretty lips wrap around my cock while I face fuck you."

"Ngh~ oh baby."

"Mmm~ just like that... That's a good girl."

"Ah yes. Fuck yes."

" I'm gonna cum baby. Take in every drop like the slut you are. Go on. Otherwise we'll be here all night until you do so properly."

I feel his twitch in my mouth and not surprisingly he cums. I make sure to take in every last drop.

I swallow his seeds and just as I was about to pull out...

"Yo."

"Yo."

"Yo."

"Yo"

"Chan. Where you at chan?"

"Expose your whereabouts or I'll tell the school that you're actually half 52 and you're disguised as a student cuz you're a pedo."

"Seungmin?" Chan mutters.

"Jisung and hyunjin??" I whisper back, finally letting go of his dick.

"What are they doing here?" I ask.

Before both me and chan could react the classroom door swings open.

"Hey chan? Guess what? So miss freaking Park found us outside and was like, "Yo han, you're chans friend right? Well I can't find any of Y/N's friends, who are way more responsible than you so I guess I'll have to trust you with this instead. And then she dangled a key infront of my handsome precious, lovable, exotic-" han gets cut off.

"We get it jisung get to the point." Hyunjin says, sounding visibly annoyed.

"Well she dangled the key infront of my amazing face and I was all like, "hey miss P, the fuck is that?" And she was like "I gave Y/N the wrong key and now I think she's locked in with chan." And I was like "go do it yourself fat ass but she was like "HAN JISUNG!" and then me and hyunjin and seunmin ran here...After grabbing the key of course. And you know what's the funny part? Well when I was running-"

"Han." Seungmin says tapping him on the shoulder with open eyes.

Me and chan just couldn't move, it was like after shock where our brains were just not braining.

"No, seungmo, let me finish." He says.

"And then I tripped over this massive di-"

"Han..look." hyunjin says this time.

Han finally stops and turns his gaze to us. Before anybody could do anything, hyunjin runs away, and seungmin hides in a locker; well he tries to and han...han puts his empty cheesecake box on his head to mimic a blindfold. He politely closes the door and leaves.

"SHIT."

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

Reblogs and votes are much appreciated <3

[accidentalslayer]

🎃 Some changes coming to this blog 🎃

TL;DR Summary: You might notice me branching out into new topics or areas of interest now that I'm no longer writing TVD fanfiction. The overall vibe of this blog might alter a little. Although, I'll still be fall & autumn posting until the day I die and well into the afterlife if there is one. Things leaving: TVD fanfiction, my personal fanfiction, vampire stuff unless I feel like talking about them. Things possibly being introduced: More shitposting, mental illness related posts about my feelings on stuff, art maybe??? A journal on my adventures in lucid dreaming, shifting, and astral projection????* *That might turn into a whole new blog tbh. I don't know if any of my followers would enjoy listening to me babble about weird dream crap.

Read below for an expanded discourse about my ideas on what will change.

So! I've kind of run out of steam when it comes to writing fanfiction for TVD. Netflix eradicating the show from their streaming services kind of slammed down the final coffin nail on my muse, so to speak, & I was really bummed when I found out yesterday. This blog started out as a TVD/Originals sanctuary for me, after all... But it's grown into something more now. It's become a place where I can express feelings & thoughts that I've had hiding inside me but never felt safe enough to say out loud. And I've had so much fun with Autumn aesthetics; turning this blog into a Fall paradise has improved my mood in so many ways! Whenever I'm depressed, I just look at my blog and imagine that I'm relaxing in my pumpkin patch, far away from the noise and troubles of the world. & I've also made a couple of friends along the way here! Looking at you guys: @king-yandere and @margueritetheduchess05💖

The question remains, however. If I won't be writing about vampires anymore, then where do I go from here? What should I do? It's a solid fact that I go insane if I'm not actively engaging with my creativity in some way. Last night, the only thing I did was brainstorm, and stress myself out trying to think of SOMETHING. Today, I think I finally have a game plan. so lemme lay it out for you. Or rather, me. I don't know if anyone is actually reading this LOL. 🎃 "Accidentalslayer" name will still remain along with blog title. My autumn & spooky aesthetics are here to stay. I might reblog people's fanfics from time to time but I think I'm moving away from writing fic myself. Besides, it didn't feel very rewarding if I'm honest. I got very little engagement on my chapters. So, if I ever DO write another story on this blog again, it'll be definitely be an original fiction. My pumpkin hat off to fanfiction writers everywhere, though! A LOT of effort, time, and research goes into fanfic that readers will never know about... 🎃 It's already been there on the periphery but I think this blog might just turn into my main shitposting/journal outlet for talking about my mundane experiences. Mental illness, funny thoughts, & feelings that visit my brain every day. If I can somehow get my "art brain" to work again, I might post art here, idk. 🎃 I'm a spiritual hoe. I love talking about witchcraft, tarot, and lucid dreaming but I'm not really sure this blog is where I should talk about that stuff. I have @flowercrone for all my tarot/PAC readings but I've really REALLY started to take an interest in astral projection, shifting, and lucid dreaming. I even started a journal recently to document all my experiences. I should probably start another blog that's dedicated JUST to shifting and astral projection, idk. If you've gotten this far in the post, you're loved beyond belief right now. 💖 Please feel free to send suggestions to me in my asks if you have any ideas about anything I've written in this post.

[the-demons-writings]

Ello! I was just wondering if you could write a Scott x sibling child reader x Xornoth type thing where they force the reader to pick a side, but the reader dosent know what’s going on?

Have a good day my friend! :>

Thanks you for the request sorry it took so long, it's not my best but but I hope you enjoy it !

You have to choose

(Xornoth and Scott x sibling reader)

You'd grown up with Scott and Xornoth in Rivendell. You bring the youngest out of all of you Scott and Xornoth regularly caught for your attention . When you were still a baby they constantly bickered trying to get you to say their name first as your first word.

Your first word ended up being "woof" as you saw a fox run past in the snow.

For the longest time Scott and Xornoth made it their jobs to be the best siblings they could, trying to make sure one of them was the definite favorite.

As children, learning about the prophecy only made Scott and Xornoth more competitive to win your favor. You didn't exactly have a place in the prophecies, however most study nights were dedicated to all of you having fun, the days Scott studied and Xornoth studied were different. While one studies the other spends time with you.

As you all reached your teens you all grew to enjoy each other's company though it didn't stop Xornoth and Scott's regular competing to impress you . As they grew into magic and responsibility you grew into the face of the family dealing with more or the village itself and the problems they had. However your favorite jobs were ones you got to visit your brother and sibling .

Xornoth did a lot of the physical work around Rivendell though during these times he was allowed to exorcise his magic. Scott did paperwork and general trade education making sure Rivendell had early alliances.

They regularly snuck away from their duties to provide you with gifts and take out around the town. Scott's gifts were extravagant usually a building made in your name or a rather expensive things though occasionally there was a handmade sweater or two in there. With Xornoth it was usually quality time and handmade gifts. They can't build as well as Scott can so lessons in self defense was his choice of gifts most times.

As you all grew into adults quality time was no longer a luxury your siblings despised each other. They could hardly tolerate each other to the point where dinner was tense and nine times out of ten it would end with a shouting fit. Xornoth soon decided he'd take leave from the kingdom with how much backlash he was getting from the people in the village .

That night he came up to your room knocking on the door and waiting for your answer . When you answered he gently took your hands into his .

"Y/N , listen I know it's late. It you've got to come with me. I promise Exor can protect the both of us, nothing can stop me from protecting you anyway. If you're here with Scott I can't promise that you won't be hurt."

You stood in shock, what where you supposed to do you'd like for your sibling to stay .

"Xor.. I couldn't, and you shouldn't, there is so much for you here ! "

"Like what Scott? Scott hates me and quite frankly I hate him and his stupid God."

"Xor, no he doesn't I promise , besides we're all needed here . I couldn't choose."

You sigh watching as Xornoth turns away from you. Scott made his way out of the room hearing the commotion. Xornoth huffs hoisting their bag onto their shoulders

"Fine but I'll be back and you'll be the only person I will ever spare! "

They shout slamming the door behind them. Score walks up behind you and pats your shoulder with a sigh.

For a while things were weird you had to adjust your schedules to fit without the extra pair of hands .Your duties became harder as you now had to manage farms, stock and the animals that were regularly traded off.

Slowly it became normal though during the time to you noticed red vinesyiu brought it up over dinner once and Scott has simply told you not to worry about it . Honestly you wish you had, you wish you pried for more answers. You wish you'd done the same when Scott came home wearing a red crystal as a necklace.. but now you're standing here amongst your siblings you really wish you'd done more.

Xornrkh had Scott trapped in some sort of spell and you stood between them looking between them.

"Xornoth let him go, we can figure this out, we're family ! "

For a moment Xornoth's eyes softened and he walked up to you pulling you in for a hug. Slowly they pulled away, backing away from you.

"Who do you pick Y/N? Me or Scott? You have to pick one of us, there is no both this time."

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: You and Eren can’t stay away from each other, completely oblivious to a jealous someone plotting to drive a wedge between you.

— Content warnings: slightly nsfw, dry humping, make out, stalking, misunderstandings.

— Notes: Welcome to chapter 8 <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

love is a verb, love is a feeling

The days have grown colder as the city is blanketed by the late November air. Crisp golden leaves are scattered over the streets, casting a warm touch to the otherwise cold patterns of gray. Common colds are nearing their rise with the shift in temperature but you've been lucky so far this year to not fall victim to any sniffles. 

Normally, you'd count on a warm cup of tea and a thick blanket to keep you warm as the weather grows harsher. But neither compare to the comforting embrace of Eren's arms. The bed is much warmer when there's a second body lying next to you and the sweet beat of his heart is the perfect sound to fall asleep to as you get drunk off the scent of his citrus body wash and eucalyptus-scented fabric softener.

The sound of your alarm rings in the air first. You moan from under the sheets, unwilling to let go of the firm torso you're pressed against. Thankfully, Eren's hold only tightens as he angles his arm back to dismiss the sound.

It's turning into a bad habit, to linger in bed just a few more minutes each time you stay over at his place. But is it really so bad when it brings you so much peace? Besides, Eren seems fine with it, too. Every little detail of your life is delicately infused with traces of him now. The same eucalyptus fabric softener is now also part of your biweekly shopping list, and this is the third time you've sneakily used his body wash even though you've been good at refilling the travel-sized bottle you keep in your bag before leaving your apartment. But the truth is, you love having that scent follow you wherever you go. It makes your day better and frankly, it's nice to carry a little piece of him all the time.

The people at the office have noticed a shift in your energy, though they haven't dared to talk about it. The reserved girl they've grown used to being wary of — the one they'd rather keep their distance from because she's so cold and standoffish that it's borderline rude in their eyes — is now livelier, smiles more easily, and is surrounded by light as opposed to the gloomy shadows from before. It's not as though you've transformed into a natural extrovert — you still only talk to Armin, and you still keep to yourself for the most part — but the small changes in your behavior certainly stand out.

“Good morning, baby,” Eren's husky morning voice cuts through the rustling of the sheets as he adjusts himself to plant a kiss on your cheek.

You snuggle closer to him, his warmth all too precious to part with. Your hands grip his shirt tightly, signaling him that you're not ready to slip away.

As usual, he softly laughs as he squeezes your frame. It's always a struggle for you to let go to start your day. Eren would easily yield if you just ask him. Ditching work to spend an entire day with your body clinging to his is nothing short of tempting. Perhaps if he didn't have an in-person meeting to attend in a few hours, he would ask you to play hooky.

“Five more minutes,” you mumble into his chest.

“Make it ten and you've got a deal,” he murmurs.

A lazy grin takes over his features when you laugh into his chest.

He strokes your hair gently, knowing you're wide awake and the extra minutes are because you like staying in bed with him.

“You're making me lazy,” he teases, peering down at the crown of your head.

“You asked me over on a weeknight,” you retaliate. “You know I like sleeping in when I come over. You should've waited until tonight.”

“Right, I forgot you have no willpower. My apologies,” he jokes, quick to stop your playful punch he already knew was coming.

With a hand stroking your back, he dips down to kiss the crown of your head.

“By the way, you owe me a bottle of body wash,” he says, aggressively poking at your sides. “I know you've been stealing it.”

“You have no proof,” you mumble, squirming at every sudden contact from his fingertips.

“You smell like citrus!”

“How do you know I don't use citrus-scented soap?”

“Because you used to always smell like vanilla,” he murmurs, a nostalgic smile shaping his lips.

You finally lift your face from his chest to look up at him.

His smile grows when he meets your gaze.

“I like that smell.”

Your heart flutters at his words, and a second wave of warmth creeps up your neck at his attention to detail.

“Do you want me to go back to vanilla, then?” 

He shrugs. 

“I don't mind if you smell like me,” he smiles. “But I miss the vanilla sometimes, to be honest. Maybe we should just trade soaps.”

Your eyes crinkle in amusement and you snuggle back into his chest. The vibrations of his voice tingle against your cheek when he speaks again, in a quieter, more timid voice.

“With all this back and forth, why don't we just move in together?”

He chews on his bottom lip while he waits for your answer. Your face is still pressed against his chest, so he can't get an idea of what you're thinking. 

It's barely been a month, but if the overnight stays so far are a taste of what living together would be like, he doesn't mind making such a bold step so soon.

“Which apartment would we keep?” 

His features shift in surprise that you don't seem thrown by his proposal.

“I- I don't know,” he stutters. “I haven't thought that far.”

“Your place is bigger,” you murmur, scooting back just a bit from him but keeping your head low so he can't see the shy expression you're wearing. “My closet is too small, my clothes barely fit.”

“Or we could look for something new together,” he says.

The idea brings a smile to your face and a nervous flutter to your stomach.

“Isn't it a bad idea to live together so soon?” you tease, though it's a genuine question. You don't mind going at a faster pace for this, but every major decision could make or break your relationship and you'd much prefer the former.

You notice him shrugging from your peripheral vision. 

“I think it's better to know early on.” He holds your chin between two fingers so he can pull your attention to him. “Why? Does it scare you?”

Slowly, you nod.

“A little.”

He hums as he contemplates your answer. 

“Then, if it makes you feel better,” he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “We can talk about it again in a few months. How does that sound?”

A bit more relaxed now, you nod again.

“Come here,” he says leaning closer so he can kiss you, but you shoot up and climb out of bed, rushing to the bathroom while hearing him laugh behind you.

“You can't run away from me each time!” he yells amusedly.

Shaking his head, he gets out of bed and starts stripping the sheets. It's of his recent knowledge that you're not fond of the idea of kissing him before you've had a chance to brush your teeth. He always tells you he doesn't care but you're quick to refuse him each time.

When you get back, he's fluffing the pillows and fixing each one on the freshly made bed.

He walks over to you in mock annoyance over your morning antics.

Cheekily, you drape your arms around his neck and pull him closer, granting him at last with one minty fresh kiss on his lips.

“You realize I haven't brushed my teeth?” he asks, squeezing your sides teasingly.

You shrug.

“I don't mind.”

You turn on your heel, grabbing your clothes for the day from his closet, leaving him dumbfounded but chuckling over your absurd logic.

“I'll make us breakfast,” he says, slipping out of the room to give you some privacy, but not before pulling you in for one more kiss.

“I'll see you tonight.”

Eren's usual goodbye from the past three weeks never gets old, always stirring the butterflies in your stomach with the exciting promise of your weekend sleepovers. 

You lean over the center console to kiss him goodbye.

“Get your tissues ready, Jaeger. I picked a good one this week.”

“Hold on, I thought it was my turn,” he whines. “Last week we stayed at your apartment and we watched that movie where the mom dies and comes back to life during the rainy season.”

You shake your head.

“That was two weeks ago. Last week was when we saw Ghost, remember?”

His eyebrows rise in realization at your reminder, his mouth forming an ah shape. 

“Man, I could've sworn it was my turn,” he says, falling back into his seat.

“Don't be a sore loser, babe,” you tease, pulling him back to kiss him again. The contact effectively wipes the pout from his lips.

His hands cradle your face to deepen the kiss, desperate to make the most of your last seconds together before you part ways for the day.

“Ow,” you moan when his teeth pull at your bottom lip a bit too hard. “Easy. I'm delicate.”

He laughs airily. 

“Sorry, I got carried away.”

He meets your lips again, this time using his tongue to suck on the injured spot, soothing the pulsing sensation left by his bite, the caress sending shivers down your spine and warming your face.

“I hate when you do that,” you mutter with unconvincing annoyance.

“No, you don't,” he retaliates, the cocky grin on his face growing wider at your flustered state. In the end, you prove him right when you start to giggle, covering your face with your hands.

“I'll see you tonight,” you murmur shyly as you push your door open. “Bye, Eren.”

“You sure you're not forgetting something?” he asks just as you're about to shut the door behind you.

You tilt your head in confusion.

“We already kissed,” you innocently say.

Shaking his head, he digs something out of his pocket, carefully tossing it in your direction. Your hands clasp around the object — your taser.

“You left it on the counter,” he sternly explains, then exchanges it for a softer tone. “Be careful, okay?”

Embarrassed but grateful to have him keeping you in check, you nod, quickly climbing back inside for a second last kiss of the morning.

“Bye,” you grin.

With another shake of his head, he laughs as he watches you leave.

“Have a good day!”

November 29, 2024

My angel, my angel, my angel.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

I can't wait to see you.

My meeting just started a few minutes ago. I won't make it out in time. Armin's taking you home.

You blink down at the text message, a small pout already forming at the thought of the bump in your recent routine. 

Though disappointed by not having Eren pick you up from work, you text him back wishing him good luck.

Are you still coming over later?

A smile takes over your worried features when he responds with ‘absolutely’ and a promise to see you tonight.

You slip your phone back into the pocket of your pants, glancing at the time as you do. There are roughly thirty minutes to go before you can head home and maybe even longer before Eren arrives at your apartment for your movie night. Hopefully, he won't be too tired. 

As you wait for the minutes to tick by, you rack your brain for an image of your pantry. In your eagerness to accept Eren's invitation to stay at his place right after work, only stopping by your apartment so you could fetch a change of clothes, you forgot to check how you were doing on snacks. The last time you checked, there weren't many options. 

You purse your lips as you make a mental note to stop by the store on the way home. 

The remainder of your working hours fly by faster than you expect. Soon enough, Armin's already at your desk, leaning back with his hands in his pockets while you gather your things, making sure to keep your taser in the jacket pocket of your dominant hand. 

“Sorry about this,” you meekly tell him as the elevator brings you down to the lobby.

He dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

“I'm glad Eren called me. I would've been worried if you left by yourself.”

You smile in appreciation for his concern. 

That's also something you're getting better at — accepting people's care.

The elevator dings and you both head out onto the street, leaving the revolving doors of the main entrance behind you.

“Do you mind if we stop by the store on the way? I have to pick up some things for tonight.”

“Oh?” Armin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at you, to which you lightly smack his shoulder.

“I was talking about snacks,” you mutter. “Eren's coming over later.”

“Oh, right,” Armin clicks his tongue. “The famous sleepovers I'm never invited to.”

You laugh.

“You're welcome to stay if you don't mind watching us makeout.”

Armin's nose scrunches in disapproval, though a laugh slips past his lips.

“You are so different from the girl I met earlier this year.”

Your face warms at his comment. His tone isn't severe, so it's easy to tell he means it in a good way. You're further reassured when he turns to look at you with a smile as you take a seat on the bus bench.

“You seem happier these days,” he points out.

You curl your lips inwards — a habit you've stolen from Eren — in a futile attempt to keep from goofily grinning.

“I am.”

He nods, his smile growing wider at your bashful admission.

“I guess now would be a good time to confess I was playing Cupid the entire time.”

Shaking your head, you giggle.

“I kind of knew.” 

“Wha– no way!”

“I mean, I wasn't sure until now but I thought it was a little weird when you kept talking about how I had to meet your best friend Eren,” you grin, poking his side teasingly. “And then when he showed up out of the blue at the coffee shop, and he told me you told him to go there.” 

He groans, kicking at a pebble by his feet. 

“And all the times you tried to get us alone… And when you wanted me to ride in the front seat when we went apple-picking. Then at the ba–”

“Okay! I get it, jeez,” he laughs. “But you have to give me some credit now that you're together.” 

“If I must,” you heavily sigh, earning yourself a flick on the forehead.

The bus pulls up on the dot of its scheduled time.

The two of you settle in next to each other for the ride. A couple of stops before your usual one, you pull on the cord and you both step back onto the street.

“So how are things going?” Armin asks, aiding you in picking a basket from the stack by the store's entrance as you crane your neck in search of the snack aisle. Armin follows your lead a few aisles down.

“It's been great,” you gush, instantly falling into an enamored smile. “It never gets boring, you know? He's just so sweet and funny.” 

You place a large tin of salted peanuts in the basket.

“Thank you, Armin.”

“I was kidding about the credit,” he chuckles. “It was ultimately your decision.” 

“Yeah, but… you greased the wheels,” you reply with a shrug. 

You skim through the choices for popcorn, ultimately picking up a box of butter and sea salt each.

“And it's not just that,” you continue as you walk to the next aisle for something sweet. “You were the first friend I ever made… and up until a few months ago, you were my only friend,” you laugh softly, trying to play it off as a joke, but a crack slips through your voice. “I don't mean to be cheesy, but you've changed my life for the better. I wouldn't have any of this if it wasn't for you. So, thank you, really.”

You regard Armin with glassy eyes that are overflowing with appreciation for the blond. 

“Come on,” he softly says. “You owe yourself some credit, too. You've come a long way, anyone can see it.” 

Your face warms at the compliment, but you dismiss him with a shrug as you turn your focus to the store's selection of fruit snacks.

A couple of packets are tossed into the basket.

“I thought we were just getting snacks,” Armin reminds you as he follows you to the back of the store where the hygiene aisle is.

“I just need to pick up some body wash,” you say.

Your eyes zero in on the brand Eren uses, and your hands quickly pick up the bottle labeled with a citrus scent. From a higher level, you grab a second bottle of your usual vanilla pick.

A short line at the register later, you both walk the rest of the way to your apartment building.

It's only a few blocks, so it doesn't take long, but by the time you near the brick building, dark clouds have started to form in the late evening sky.

“I've got it from here,” you tell Armin when you notice his intention to accompany you inside the building. “You should go, it looks like it's gonna rain.” 

You point at the somber clouds looming over your heads. 

Armin nods appreciatively at your concern and bids you goodbye before making a sprint for the nearest bus stop on the opposite side of the street.

You ride the elevator to your floor on your own, leaning back against the mirrored wall as you already feel yourself relaxing into the weekend mood. 

Your shoes are peeled off and abandoned beside the door the moment you walk in, and the grocery bag is left on the kitchen counter. 

You pull your phone from your pocket, immediately tapping on the first notification, a small smile etched on your face as your text conversation with Eren pops up on the screen.

Just gotta send some emails and I'll be on my way. 

You tap a quick reply before dialing the number to Eren's favorite local pizza place. After confirming your order for a half-and-half special, you scurry to the bathroom for a quick shower. 

The weekends are easily most people's favorite time. It's a pleasant break from the dull routine of working in an office, or doing manual labor, or serving strangers. For you, the weekends were an okay time. Not having to spend eight hours a day in the office was fine, and you were perfectly content spending your off days focusing on your hobbies, getting chores done, or laying around. 

After Armin — and especially after Eren — that old routine seems rather unsatisfying now. You still appreciate the beauty of sitting down to read a new book, but doing the same while Eren is on the opposite end of the sofa playing a game or hearing him move around in the kitchen to fix the two of you a snack has the power to make you feel full. 

Armin has teased you a couple of times since your start with Eren, implying you've stolen his best friend, but neither of you could be happier that his meddling resulted in such a good thing. 

As you rinse off the stress of the day, you find yourself smiling at the memory of your first kiss with Eren. It feels like it's been ages since it happened, and every kiss, every touch, and every look since then has blessed you with years worth of good fortune.

You step out of the shower, choosing to change into a pair of sweats and a loose tee. A quick glance to your bedroom window lets you notice the faint pitter-patter of rain droplets falling. You check the time on your phone, dismissing the low battery percentage alert but relieved to find a text from Armin that reassures you he got home safe and dry. With a few minutes to spare before the pizza or Eren arrives, you venture into the kitchen to fix yourself a cup of tea.

Your routine is the same as ever — set the water on the stove, wait for the whistle, fetch a mug from the cupboards, the honey wand from its drawer, and a tea bag and honey from the pantry. When you get to the last step, you're disappointed to find that you've barely enough honey left to sweeten the cup you just made. 

Eren and you have kept a steady tradition since you started sleeping over at each other's apartment to share a cup of tea before bed. With your low resources, that won't be possible tonight. 

Without giving it much thought, you slip on a jacket and sneakers, and rush out the door, grabbing your umbrella on the way. 

As the elevator travels down to the lobby, you click your tongue in spite of yourself. Had you been more attentive you would've picked up a new jar from the store earlier. You'll be lucky if you find your usual choice in the store at the corner of your street. 

Once out the main door and down the front steps of the building, you open your black umbrella and start walking. 

The rain always has an effect on traffic. It's as though everyone's common sense and driver's education grows as hazy as the weather. But Eren's lucky to escape before any real chaos kicks off. 

He pulls into the parking lot of your building with ease. The initial pitter-patter of rain has crescendoed in a matter of seconds. With no umbrella or raincoat to guard himself from the rain, he resorts to using his jacket, holding it above his head while he rounds the building toward the main entrance even if plenty of raindrops still manage to land on him.

In his rush, he avoids a person walking down the street with a black umbrella, only to crash into a second figure a couple of steps later.

The man is wearing a black raincoat, hood over his head and his hands in his pockets until he bumps into Eren's body.

“I'm so sorry,” Eren half-yells over the rain, holding a hand before him in defense. 

The young man lifts his face just enough to show an understanding smile in response, though his light brown eyes seem devoid of any emotion — but Eren crosses it off as a distortion from the night's weather.

“Don't worry about it,” the stranger grins. “Be careful.”

Eren continues up the steps of the brick building, relief washing over him once he's inside the lobby, where he pats down his clothes to rid himself of any excess water before heading to the elevator.

A cheerful tune whistles from his lips as he makes the journey to the third floor, a grin stretching across his features when the elevator finally dings. 

His eager hands fish the spare key you gifted him last week from his jacket pocket and jiggle it around the lock until it clicks open.

He calls your name as he breathes in the familiar vanilla scent that wafts throughout the apartment from the freshly abandoned shower.

He peers behind the door when you don't respond right away.

“Babe, I'm here,” he tries again, searching in your room this time.

Still no answer.

He wanders around the apartment, confused but on high alert as he whips out his phone to call you.

“Hello?” your voice reaches his ear after the first ring.

The breath he was holding is promptly released as he leans against the armrest of the sofa.

“Where are you?”

He hears a series of rustles and clinks on your end. 

“I'm at the store on the corner of the street. I came to get honey. Are you close?” 

“I'm at your apartment. I almost freaked out when you weren't here.”

“Aww,” you coo. From your tone, he can easily tell you’re smiling. “You're so needy.”

He blushes.

“When it comes to you, yeah, obviously,” he murmurs shyly.

You giggle. 

“I'll be there soon,” you say. “I'm in line to pay.”

On the other side of the line, your phone is pressed between your ear and shoulder while you fidget for some cash in your jacket pockets. A crumpled bill falls to the floor in the process, but you miss the chance to retrieve it before the man behind you bends down to pick it up first. He holds the bill between two fingers, offering it to you with a smile.

“Thank you,” you smile back at him as you take the bill. 

The man's smile grows at your expression, his light brown eyes lighting up at the sight of your pearly teeth.

“Who was that?” Eren asks. 

You explain the incident to him as you head out the store. A faint ring of the store's bell rings on Eren's side.

“Why? Are you jealous?” you tease, giggling when he scoffs through the phone. 

A tap on your shoulder puts a halt in your step and you turn around to find the same man from the store behind you.

On the other end, Eren can hear the muffled male voice, as he assumes you've lowered the hand holding your phone.

His brow furrows as he tries to make out what is being said on your end, but just as your voice starts talking again, the call is cut off.

“Hello?” Eren calls into the phone, but there's no sound. He calls your name, only to receive no reply. When he looks down at the screen, the words ‘Call ended’ flash in red. 

He blinks at the screen several times.

He's confused at first, but a compelling need to call you back overtakes him in a flash, and his thumbs frantically tap the call button next to your name. When the call is instantly forwarded and the automatic tone tells him the number he dialed is unavailable, there's a dreadful drop in his stomach.

He tries calling again — just to make sure, just in case — hopeful that it's a misunderstanding and the rain has you distracted and you managed to reject his call on accident. 

“Come on. Pick up, pick up,” he softly chants as if his words have the power to make things true.

But the call still doesn't come through. 

Without a second more to waste, he rushes to the door, swinging it open with determination, only to find you looking up at him in surprise, with your key in your hand, just seconds away from unlocking the door yourself.

His bottom lips quivers and his eyes stare back at you, wide and overflowing with relief.

You're pulled inside the apartment and wrapped in his arms in a second, his hold tight as he nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing in your vanilla scent in a desperate attempt to confirm you're real. 

“Eren,” you murmur, taken aback by his behavior. “Baby, what's wrong?” 

Your fingers weave through his hair as you try to comfort him from whatever unknown force has him so panicked.

He sniffles against your neck, and you sense droplets trailing down your collarbone.

You try to earn some room so you can analyze what's going on but his grip only tightens.

The jar of honey is pressed uncomfortably against your stomach, but you ignore the feeling until he decides to step back.

When he does, his expression is stern.

“Why didn't you pick up my calls?” 

His voice is powerful — severe. It's not something you're used to. He's suddenly ten feet tall and you've shrunk to half your size. 

Pulling your phone out of your jacket, you explain.

“My phone died, I would've called you back if I could,” you say, hoping the hypothetical is enough to soothe him.

He doesn't answer, only swallows thickly as he continues to pin you down with his gaze.

“It's okay,” you reassure him. “I'm okay, see?”

“It’s not.”

His brow is furrowed, jaw tense and his hands accentuate his words with sharp gestures.

“Do you realize how serious this is? You could've been in danger and I would've had no way of reaching you.”

“Eren, calm down, please. I just went to the store. I made it back, it's fine.”

You use the softest of your voices, focused on getting him to settle on the fact that you're safe now.

“Did you at least have your taser on you?” 

You shrink in your spot. The guilt is evident on your face, and it only makes Eren drag his hands over his face in frustration. 

He shakes his head, clearly bothered by your carelessness. 

An uncomfortable sensation tingles at your nose as you feel an oncoming wave of tears.

After all he's done to keep you safe, and your forgetfulness could easily throw his efforts out the window. Your cheeks burn and your shoulders cave with the weight of disappointing him. And now he won't even look at you, his apparent anger too intense to focus on something other than the floor.

The least you could do is apologize.

“Eren,” you weakly call him, voice cracking and barely above a whisper.

It takes long enough for him to look at you that you doubt he even heard you. But when he finally meets your gaze, his hardened expression crumbles at the sight of your teary eyes and your defeated demeanor.

“I'm not mad,” he's quick to say, stepping forward to envelop your frame once more — still tight but with a more comforting intent behind it. 

His warmth is all you need to fall down a well of stuttered sobs and regretful tears.

“I'm sorry,” you cry into his jacket.

The words rip him apart from the inside. He didn't mean to be harsh even if you deserved to be scolded, but now even he's overwhelmed by guilt for making you cry in apology. 

It's a crappy situation for both of you.

“I forgot it again. I'm so sorry, Eren,” you sob. He cradles your face in his hands, nodding along as he carefully listens to your tearful explanation. “I wasn't gonna be too long. I just needed honey for your tea later, and you were on your way already, so I didn't think it would be a big deal if I just went to the corner store to get some. I'm so sorry, Eren. I really am.”

You release a shuddered breath as he wipes your face of your tears with his thumb. He proceeds to take the jar of honey from your trembling hands and set it aside.

“I'm not mad,” he repeats, hugging you to his chest as you ease up from your crying, soothed by his gentle tone and the caresses to your hair. “I'm sorry, too.”

I didn't mean to make you cry.

He holds your face in his hands. 

“But you have to understand how scary it is for me to have our call cut off while you're out alone.”

You nod, blinking away the last of your tears that blur your vision.

“I know. I'm sorry.”

Eren's heart shrinks at every apology.

“Stop apologizing,” he murmurs, voice laced with pain. “Just don't scare me like that again, please.” 

You nod again, suddenly feeling too weak to use your voice.

A wave of relief washes over you when he leans closer to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth as a final step in reconciliation.

A knock on your door calls for your attention. Eren looks back at you in question.

“I ordered pizza from that place you like,” you innocently explain before you dig around your pockets for money.

Your considerate nature toward him squeezes further at his heart.

“I got it,” he says, tapping your arm lightly before answering the door and paying.

“I'm gonna wash my face,” you tell him, awkwardly slipping away to the bathroom to do so.

When you get back to the living room, the TV is set to play the last movie saved to your list, and he's sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa with a slice of pizza in his hands. When he catches your presence he nods down at the spot beside him, gesturing for you to join him.

The moment you sit down he welcomes you back with a kiss on your cheek and a second soft apology in your ear.

The movie ended up making you both spill another series of tears.

“I don't know why you keep picking these movies,” Eren sniffles as he dabs a tissue to his eyes before helping you clean your face, too.

“I like it when you cry,” you admit. “I like a sensitive man.”

He playfully pinches your cheek in retaliation, only to immediately kiss it after.

You curl up against him, resting your legs on his lap as your arms drape around his shoulders.

“I really am sorry about tonight. I wasn't trying to make you worry. And once I realized my phone died, I hurried over immediately.”

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you up so that you're sitting properly on his lap. He lifts your chin with his index finger, gently coaxing you to look at him.

“It's fine,” he murmurs. “Just promise me you'll be more careful. Next time just wait for me and we'll go together. Or call me up if you need me to get something on my way. I'd rather do it myself than have you walk out at night all alone.”

“You'd be alone, too,” you point out.

“I'm not as worried about myself,” he answers quietly, gently brushing his nose against yours before leaning in for a kiss.

He pecks you once, twice, before remembering something.

“Who was the guy?”

Your eyebrows upturn in confusion.

“I heard a guy talking to you after you left the store,” he explains.

You mouth an ‘oh’ in realization. 

“I dropped my receipt and he was just giving it back.”

You fish the slip of paper from your sweats, holding it up between two fingers for his observation.

“See?”

He nods, taking the slip of paper from your hold and setting it aside on the floor.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the sensitive skin gently as his hands softly caress your hips, just above the waistline of your sweats.

“I worry about you, you know,” he murmurs against your sweet spot. “I can't be still if I'm not sure you're safe.”

You want to tell him that he doesn't have to worry so much, that this was an isolated experience and that there haven't been any new murders, but you know it'll just slip in one ear and fall out the other. 

So you just hold him, stroking his hair in that lazy pace he likes so much.

He lifts his face from your neck, looking up at you in adoration. The glassy look in his jewel-toned eyes would be enough to make you fall to your knees — it's a good thing you're on his lap.

His mouth caresses yours tenderly, transferring his earlier relief when he found you standing right outside the door.

Your hand finds its place above his heart, capturing the increasingly erratic beats as you melt into each other.

Your tongue brushes against his, swallowing every moan, every relieved sigh, every whimper. 

His fingers sneak under your shirt, timidly testing the waters with a searing touch before his hand fully glides against the bare skin of your waist, confident and itching for more.

Your breath hitches in your throat when his fingertips brush the underside of your breasts. For the sake of comfort, you've skipped out on wearing a bra, as you always do when you're close to your bedtime. So his accidental closeness doesn't come as a surprise.

Eren, on the other hand, is taken aback by the lack of undergarments, his fingers timidly backing down from the area, but still dangerously close as he continues to explore every corner of your mouth with his tongue.

His erection is pressed against your ass with every small motion, reminding you of how easily excitable he is each time you find yourselves in compromising positions. 

A sinful whine escapes your lips when you feel him twitch underneath you.

He pulls back from the kiss the tiniest bit, flustered but with a cool enough head to check in on you. 

You breathe into each other's mouths, hot and heavy.

“Do you wanna stop?” he murmurs, cheeks red and lips swollen as he exhales short breaths.

You bite down on your bottom lip, unsure if it's what you truly want.

With every heated encounter, it's getting harder to resist him. You know he's not purposely doing anything to tilt the scales in favor of finally having sex. In fact, he's been a perfect gentleman about your boundaries, always sure to keep himself in check and asking you to talk to him when things start escalating.

You admire him for it, but sometimes it bothers you to think he's holding back and you should loosen up for his sake.

“Do you?” you ask.

He takes a beat to respond. When he finally does, it leaves you speechless.

“No.” 

The confidence in his answer is clear, leaving no room for doubt over how he feels.

You curl your lips inwards, slowly nodding as his answer courses through your brain.

A velvet kiss is placed on the corner of your mouth.

“But I promised,” he whispers reassuringly.

You swallow thickly as the air around you is dissipated of any tension and the pressure in your chest softens.

“I feel like I'm putting you through hell,” you sheepishly admit.

He shakes his head.

“I won't lie. I want to touch you like you can't even imagine,” he murmurs. “But I really don't mind waiting. Nothing will happen unless you say yes.”

The same confidence from his previous statement laces through this one. It blankets you with peace.

So with one final kiss to his cheek, you climb off his lap and help him up.

As usual, the tent in his pants yells for attention, but he's not blushing as profusely as the first time it happened. 

“I should hop in the shower,” he says.

You nod.

“I'll clean up.”

A while later, you're both snuggled together underneath your covers, a mix of vanilla, citrus and eucalyptus wafting in the air. 

Eren's hand is underneath your shirt for a change, tracing soothing stripes on the small of your back with his thumb, as you trace the curve of his bottom lip with yours.

“Has anyone told you you're pretty?” you ask him sincerely in a hushed voice.

An amused air blows through his nose, making you smile in the process.

“I don't think so,” he says. “Am I?”

You nod.

“You've got really pretty eyes, and long lashes, and perfect lips,” you whisper, tracing around every feature with your gaze. “I'm jealous.”

His eyes flutter closed when your fingertips graze near the area.

“More, please.” 

You giggle, letting the pads of your fingers trail down to the bridge of his nose. 

“I really like your freckles, too,” you say. “But they're kind of faded now.”

“Just wait til the summer, they'll be back,” he says, eyes open again.

You hum in response.

“Is there more?” he teases.

You laugh.

“Yeah.”

You push him back gently so that he lays flat on his back as you prop yourself on one elbow to hover over his face.

“Thank you for caring about me,” you murmur, eyes twinkling in the cool moonlight that filters through your bedroom curtains.

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, a smile forming on his lips when you lean into his touch.

A sigh leaves his lips when you bend down to kiss him, tenderly moving your lips between his in sweet motions you hope accurately convey your fondness.

“I love you, Eren.”

The words knock the air out of his lungs. The world comes to a halt as your honest feelings float above his head. 

Three little words. Three simple words that carry the weight of the whole universe. 

Eren's stuck in place, unable to formulate a proper string of words, the sudden tingle in his chest keeping him from making sense of his surroundings as it echoes throughout his entire body. 

Say something, he begs himself internally.

He doesn't. He can't. He doesn't possess the functions that allow him to.

It's frustrating.

But you're calm. You smile and kiss him again, before turning on your side to sleep. 

When he finally regains control of himself, Eren wraps his arms tightly around your sleeping body, pulling you flush against his chest as three little words remain lodged in his throat.

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[zoomingupthathilla]

@munsontm Continued from here.

--

A shaky breath escaped her lips as she waited for him to speak. The silence hanging in the air only causing her to grow more and more nervous. Max tried to hone in on him, tried to tune out the buzzing. Maybe he was shifting, and she'd catch it? Maybe the question had made him so uncomfortable he left? -- Had she caused him to run? If so, she would slip over the edge, go completely insane. Regret running off the one person that she had easy access to.

Hearing the chair squeak, she let out a sigh of relief. God was she so thankful that he was still there. That she didn't chase him away, it was a talent she had. Once his hand was in hers, she immediately squeezed as hard as she could. Hanging on for dear life. Her grip was weak, but she knew he would understand that she needed this. That she was trying. When he spoke of her friends, she had to stop herself from becoming teary eyed. Blinking rapidly, hoping he wouldn't notice. "--You're right, those weirdos aren't going to give up, are they?" That's what she was afraid of, that they would waste their lives taking care of her. Trying to get her the best treatments that they possibly could. -- if that didn't work, they'd take care of her themselves. They deserved to be kids, to live their lives, not take care of a disabled teenager. "What if i'm not as strong as you think? -- If i can never get on a skateboard again, I don't know if i'll survive. It's ... it's the only thing that I enjoy as much as my friends." Max wasn't sure why she was being so open with him, so vulnerable. "... Sorry Munson, you didn't come here for this. To be bombarded. -- Tell me another joke." Now she was trying to change the subject, he couldn't see her insecurities, see that she had weaknesses.

"Big mouth? Have you heard yourself speak, or is your hearing damaged from the nails on a chalkboard that is your voice?" The redhead went back to teasing for the time being. It didn't last long, because his next words caused her to frown. Her hand giving his a reassuring squeeze. "What fools we are Eddie, what fools we are. -- If it helps, you make a great hero." She whispered. "If I can bitch, so can you, besides selfishly, it helps.. It means i'm not alone." He was able to get a chuckle to leave her lips, leave it to him and the love that they both had to using insults as deflection. "I'd be sorry for me too, they're so overbearing.." Okay, she was rusty, a coma would do that to you. "Not be a burden? Have you ever had to wheel around a grown woman? It is impossible for me to not be a burden. I get it they care, and they're not going to stop because I can no longer contribute much-- other than my smart mouth.. but" There was a pause, as she turned her head towards him. A somber smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "it's hard.. Needing help sucks, but accepting it is almost -- impossible. We're just kindred spirits aren't we? Two peas in a pod. Which means, you've officially become stuck with me and my wonderful jokes."

[dragon-kazansky]

The art of finding a wife

Female reader

This one is completely self indulgent for me, so I apologise for that. Normally I would keep my fics with a nonspecific gender reader, but this specific idea was too good to pass up on.

♡♡♡

Anthony gave a huge sigh as he slumped down into the chair next to his brothers. This was the season he intended to find a wife. He had made that quite clear, yet after one event, he already found himself struggling.

Benedict and Colin look at one another before turning back to their brother.

"Are you quite well, brother?" Benedict asks, amused by the expression on Anthony's face. The Viscount turns his head to glare as his younger brother.

"This whole finding a wife thing is quite a challenge."

"You've been to one ball," Colin points out.

Anthony looked at him as if to say 'what does that have to do with anything?'

The youngest of the three rolled his eyes and turned his gaze away from his brother. Benedict chuckled quietly to himself and turned back to his sketch book.

"Tell me, Benedict, how did you do it?" Anthony asks.

Benedict turns back to his brother, Colin doing the same, and asks, "what do you mean?"

"Well, you have a wife. How did you do it?"

At the simple mention of you, Benedict seems to light up. He sits up a little straighter and smiles fondly.

"The same way Daphne did. I fell in love."

Anthony scoffs, which earns a glare from his mother who occupied the other end of the room with Eloise and Francesca.

"I need a wife worthy of being Viscountess."

Benedict stares at him.

"And you cannot be in love this person? You have attended one ball. The season has only begun. I honestly believe you can find someone to love," Benedict tells him.

"Why must love play a part?"

Benedict looks at Anthony as if he had grown another head.

"I suppose if Benedict can fall in live and find a wife, so can I," Anthony says, rising from his chair. It is as if he didn't hear a single word his brother just said.

"What would be the point if you did not wake up every morning and see your best friend beside you? To have someone who, when you look at them, makes the world a far better place. Everything seems so much brighter and fuller because you have that one person in your life who knows you better than anyone. To live a life with a wife who understands you without the need to say a word, that's the greatest gift of all."

Silence fills the room.

Violet looks at her son with pride. To hear him speak such words brings joy to her heart.

Benedict glares at him.

"What does that mean?"

Colin is in hysterics in his own seat.

"Nothing, brother," Anthony excuses himself from the room. Benedict puts his sketchbook down and stands up.

"Did he insult me?"

"I do not know brother. He must have, you're insulted."

"Is it so hard to think I would find a wife?" Benedict asks.

"No. Anthony is being Anthony. Do not listen to him."

Benedict sits back down and picks up his sketchbook again. He opens it and smiles softly at his current work. No surprise to Colin to see another sketch of you.

"How does it feel to live someone so freely like you do?" Colin asks.

Benedict smiles at your drawing.

"It feels like the world is complete."

Benedict takes note of the time.

Violet, who was very obviously listening in on her sons conversation, smiles warmly at them. That's all she ever wants for children.

"Speaking of, I best make my way home. I promise to bring her along next time," he smiles at his mother.

"Please do. You make such a wonderful couple."

He smiles and takes his leave.

Back home, you've returned from your visit to Lady Danbury. You make it home before your husband, so you make use of your time by reading until his return.

When you hear him enter, you forget the book and hurry to greet him. The smiles you share as your eyes land on one another are as pure as could be.

You rush to his side and kiss him. Benedict chuckles against your lips as be holds you.

"Welcome back," you whisper.

"Glad to be home. Now, shall we continue where we left off this morning?" He grins.

You grab his hand.

"I think we shall."

[munsster]

Hi! Could you write a Robin x Fem! Reader? Where the reader does not feel pretty enough to be with Robin, especially considering that Robin spends her time talking about Vickie. Let it all end with a fluffy ending, Robin confesses her feelings to the reader, and for her to tell her that she is beautiful 🥺✨

come up short

A/N: i want this to happen to ME. when is it my turn to have a pretty and nervous girl confess her undying love for me and then we fall in love????? is it so much to ask

Pairing: Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Robin is stunned you don’t see yourself the way she always has. 1.6k words.

Warnings: fluff, angst, miscommunication, jealousy, major insecurity, body issues, a kiss, cursing

Robin’s spread out across your duvet, limbs wild and stretching as she exhausts her ample knack for storytelling. Only you've grown to hate this story. You've heard it too many times before. Always the same girl with cropped orange hair and freckles like flakes of fairy dust and a smile like a movie star.

So you stand in front of your full-length mirror, leaned over and poking at the skin of your cheeks while she blinks up at the ceiling and tells you about her crush.

"And before I could catch it, the stack of tapes crashed to the floor. I mean, I'd spent hours inputting and organizing them, and suddenly, it was all ruined, and I just..." she sighs, "I didn't care. It was amazing. Besides, she helped me pick them up anyways, so..."

You know you should be happy for her. Robin's not the type to just not care. But apparently Vickie's baby blue eyes and elf nose and wicked taste in earrings do that to her. Change her. Make her into someone else. Someone other than your best friend and favorite girl. Turns her into a drifter that skips out on weekly movie-nights and cuts phone calls short because she's waiting for someone else. Someone other than you.

So you're stuck listening and fixing your eyeliner, trying not to engage, knowing it'll break your heart. "Oh. Yeah. That's cool," you huff, "hey, uh... forgot I have a thing due for Anderson tomorrow, and I should probably get started on it—"

She sits up and watches your reflection with furrowed brow. You're chewing at your bottom lip, fussing your hair about and tugging at your sleeves. You meet her perplexity with a shrug. But in that moment, she's hyper aware of what you want. You want her out. She just doesn't see why.

"Stats? But… we don't have anything due tomorrow."

"Late work. My extension ends next class, and you know how he gets," you say, devoid of the usual melody, falling from your mouth like bricks. Like you're reading it off a page. A script.

"Oh. Makes sense," she hums, sitting on the edge of your bed and watching you turn away to change your shirt. But she can't even remember the last time you did that. Deliberately hid from her. Tucked yourself away into the open face of your closet and tugged on a Sex Pistols shirt, scratching your elbow because you know it was an unusual thing to do. "I just have to call Steve and let him know I need a ride."

You nod. "Phone's all yours." And your voice cracks. On yours, you break and flinch, wrapping your arms around your own torso and feeling like you haven't slept in days. Like you've just kicked your person out after lying to her face.

She dials slow, glancing back at you pacing in a circle while she holds your pale yellow handset to her ear.

"Hey, Steve... could you… yep... perfect, thanks."

And the phone clunks back into place alongside the dread ebbing in your ears. Pounding when she looks at you. Because it feels like a test. Smile the wrong way, and she'll dock your grade. Smudge your mascara a little bit, and you've failed. Maybe she'll suspend you for not looking like Vickie. For not being good enough or pretty enough.

And now, she's looking at you, doe-eyed.

"You okay, honey? Look a little—"

"I'm fine," you bark, "don't worry about it. I'm fine."

She holds her breath, "just checking. You've been kinda quiet all night."

"Worried about the assignment."

"Right."

The assignment. Some assignment. Numbers and fractions and percentages and standard deviations are easier to handle than your own body. Tugging at the back of your shirt so it’s not touching your skin.

“What’s wrong?” she mumbles.

And you snap, “why do you care?”

“Because clearly something’s bothering you.”

“It’s not. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, so you’ve mentioned.”

This is one stupid chess match, smacking the timer until someone lays the king down. Ending in a stalemate, needlessly drawn out and glaring at each other. You’re seething like a lion, lungs working furiously with your arms limp at your sides.

“Well. That’s because I am. I’m fine,” you huff.

“Say it again, maybe I’ll believe you this time”—she softens when you tilt your head back and your breathing gets a little shaky—"I just wanna make sure you’re okay. You know you can talk to me about anything—"

"Except I can't, can I, Robin? Why don’t you just go home and… and call your girlfriend and have movie-night with her and tell her she’s gorgeous and awesome and special in every goddamn way, especially the ones… that I could never be even okay in,” you pant, eyes dropping to the floor when her mouth closes, tight-lipped and stunned. Appalled, shocked. Disgusted, you think.

But she knows she’s worried. Over everything else, she feels the worry molding over in her guts, filling her with stuffing and cotton because she’s worried she should have asked before. Ages before. And now, even if it’s too late to salvage any of it, she’d die trying.

“Don’t you think that’s a little… I dunno—harsh?”

You scoff.

“So, I’m a bitch, and I’m not even pretty. Right? That’s why she’s so much better than I am, and why you talk about her for hours on end. I mean, I don’t know what you want from me, Robin—I listen and I listen while you gush on and on about her, and I never even got the chance to tell you—”

A horn blares from the street. She ducks to look out the window with a sigh.

"That's Steve." She grimaces at the sound of her own voice. Then she blinks at you, and you’ve gone blank, thumbing the sleeve of your shirt and itching at your knuckles.

"Okay,” you say with a shrug.

"I should go."

"Fine."

You still walk her to the door and wave at Steve from the porch, but your smile never reaches your eyes, and you prepare yourself to spend the rest of the night dry heaving over the way she says:

"I'll see you in class tomorrow."

And you just nod.

She trips down the sidewalk, deciding it’s best not looking back. Best to let it go until the morning. Apologize with a coffee in hand and the reassurance of rest. But she’d only be reassured knowing you got some. And right now it doesn’t seem that way.

You shut the door. It snaps into place. Her jacket lurches from it’s place on the rack. You stand with your back to the door, looking forward but not ahead. Watching the glassy shadows bend across the tile as the light outside shifts, and there’s a stinging screech of tires. Shoes bettering the pavement. A knock in the door.

You wipe the bleariness from your eyes, smudging the heels of your palms with gritty streaks of eyeshadow. And you open the door anyway.

"I left my jacket."

"I know," you whisper, holding the windbreaker with both hands. She looks down at it. Then at you. And she smiles, leaning in to kiss your cheek when she flops it over her forearm and fiddles with its stretch collar.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know," she sighs, "I never felt that way for Vickie. I thought maybe if I talked about her enough, that shit would eventually come true and I could finally stop being obsessed with this... my girl. I mean, so obsessed it's kinda gross because she's definitely too nice to me—"

You duck your head, frowning at your bare feet and picking at your shirt.

"—even though she teases me all the time and makes fun of my pathetic flirting attempts... I swear I love her even more. She's perfect."

She shuffles closer in her boots, stepping onto your scratchy welcome mat and tapping your chin to get you to look at her. You lift your head, but you glance just past her, sniffling softly when a fat tear rolls down your chin.

"And beautiful."

Your shoulders lift with the promise of a deep breath, eyes flicking to hers, head falling to your collar with a sigh.

“Even if she doesn’t wanna see it. It’s always been her. Like the world didn’t matter whenever she was away from me, couldn’t focus ‘cause her laugh was so distracting. Thought about her all the time. She’d call me a creep for it. Definitely”—she laughs—“But… I think I’d rather be a creep than forget how much I love her…”

“… how much I love you.”

“But I’m not Vickie. I’m not her.”

“Exactly. I never loved Vickie,” she says, shaking her head, “I loved you. Still do.” She cups your face in her hands, jacket slumping to the brick of your doorstep because it doesn’t matter. It can collect dust or turn to it for all she care. As long as it’s you. As long as you curl your fingers into hers and lean in and let her breath the same air as you. As long as you kiss her. Like this.

With her lips soft and yours softer, a little wet and salty from the tears, but good with her eager tongue swiping against them. Your fingers weave across her scalp, and she hums, sliding her hand down your arm and pulling herself away.

“Me?” you whisper. She nods.

“You.”

“Me. All that time?”

“Mhm.”

“Wow,” you tease, “I think we might be the real dinguses.”

“I think you’re right.”

masterlist

[starrgaziinggg]

BEGIN AGAIN | hwang hyunjin

CHAPTER ONE

Hwang Hyunjin messes with your head, unknowingly, for over a month. Until you can't take it anymore.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Growing up with Chris Bang as your best friend had it's perks - a permanent bodyguard, a shoulder to cry on... and seven other boys who also became your best friends as you grew up together.

Week in, week out, your routine stayed the same. Study, go to class and patiently wait to attend your regular Friday evening home cooked meal with your friends. You just couldn't wait to graduate and start working, to rid yourself of exams and finally start earning some proper money like the boys.

Desperate to put some light back into your mundane, studious life, Chris forces you to start blind dating. Two miserable dates down and ready to murder the man, someone completely unexpected appears and makes a mess of your orderly life.

And a mess he does make.

|fake dating|friends to lovers|slow burn|non idol au|

chapter one

“No.”

"You've not even heard what I wanted to say yet!" Christopher Bang, also referred to commonly by his Korean name Chan, threw his arms up in exasperation.

"Anything concerning you trying to force me into anything is a firm no," you replied calmly, raising your eyebrows and resting backwards into Chan's sofa.

"This is for your own good. I'm sick of your moping and moaning. Just actually listen to me for a change," your best friend proposed.

Okay, context was definitely needed here. You were sat beside Chris, your best friend going on 24 years. Your mothers were best friends, and still are, which caused you and Chan to be as close as any two children could be. You were next door neighbours growing up, spending every spare minute together. Being an only child, you loved playing with Chan and his siblings.

Your group started in primary school. Chan was three years older than you, meaning he had already made friends by the time you were old enough to go to primary school. His best friend Changbin was the year below him, and when you joined the school, Changbin's friend Jising was the next to join your group. Admittedly, you were worried that when Chan started making his own friends he would forget about you. You found it much harder to make friends than him due to your trust issues. They started when your dad left, which you were far too young to remember much of, but instantly made you much more closed off than other young children.

Chris never once left you out, though. Where other little boys would go through phases of hating girls and wanting nothing to do with them, Chan made a point of showing you he liked you for you, regardless of your gender. As you grew older, the other boys seemed to simply grow into this mindset too.

It was nice to have Jisung in your class, since he was almost always in a good mood, a class favourite. When he was off, however, you were left alone - not one to be favoured by your classmates. In fact, a lot of them weren't fond of you. They didn't understand how some random girl got to be friends with the Chris Bang. Even at a young age, you think you were around nine when this happened, the girls in your class would get jealous and tease you. One particularly rough day, a couple of the nastier girls in your class tripped you up in the playground for God knows why. Jisung being off left you vulnerable, and when the only person in your class you helped you was Seungmin, he and his best friend Jeongin in the year below instantly joined your group.

And that's how it stayed for a good few years. Hanging out at every opportunity, summer holidays filled of fun. At some point, you began your Friday movie night tradition - buying whatever looked interesting on DVD and spending the night, in turns, at each other's house to watch it.

Then Seungmin moved to America for a while, and your group of six became five. A couple years later he returned a different person and you realised how much you had all grown up. You found yourselves in high school, facing deadlines - the fun childhood slowly fading into a more grown up era of your lives. The boys grew taller (except for Changbin, who reached 5'6 at fourteen and stayed there), you got boobs - it was a strange period of time.

You remember being around fourteen when you had the conversation with Chris. You'd asked him why he still hung around with you, when he had a group of boys to hang out with. He'd replied almost instantly; that you were his best friend, just as good as any one of the boys, and you made their group complete. He graduated high school the next year, choosing to study a business management major in university. Rather than moving closer to uni, Chris decided to stay at his family home for a while to help his parents look after his siblings. Three of his grandparents died within the one year, and with his parents both working full time he offered to stay and help. Classic Chris. Helping everyone, wherever he could.

Felix came along soon after; the most adorable kid, covered in freckles, who didn't speak a word of Korean. Since you and Seungmin were the only fluent English speakers in your class, and most of the school, you practically adopted Felix. The two of you became really close after you starting giving him weekly Korean lessons.

Next was Minho, who you think came into the picture when you were seventeen. Jisung and Changbin had just started working at a chain of restaurants that were owned by Minho's parents, and they quickly became good friends - thus, Minho was introduced to the group and fit right in.

Lastly, Hwang Hyunjin. He joined the group when the two of you were eighteen, having had met Chris during university as they'd both been studying business management. Unlike the rest of your group, Hyunjin was loaded. His family were extremely wealthy, his dad some sort of multi millionaire businessman. After Chris graduated uni, and Hyunjin graduated the two year business course he had been studying, the two were figuring out what they wanted to do with their degrees. The conversation between them that sparked their business venture became legend amongst their friend group.

It went something like this:

Chan says, "What the fuck are we going to do after we graduate."

Hyunjin says, "What's your dream job?"

Chan says, "To own an entertainment company."

Hyunjin says, "Let's do that then."

And that was that. Literally. It really didn't take much more than that. Hyunjin told Chan about how he would be able to get a loan or investment from his family to kickstart their venture, they would work their asses off for six months to train themselves on how to successfully create their own entertainment company and spent the next however long setting it up. It took almost three years, a shit tonne of money, and the help of everyone you knew to create CBH Entertainmnet. Now it is quite well known, racking in a large amount of money and your two best friends are the CEO's. It blows your mind to think of how proud you are of Chan's hard work. Hyunjin, too. The pair of them hardly sleep.

And that was that. Your freak show of a friend group. You loved the boys to death, and you had no clue where you'd be without them.

"C'mon, kid. You're last relationship was when you were, what, sixteen?" Chan continued, reminding you that your love life was close to non existent. "And it doesn't even count, cause it was Felix and you kissed once and broke up like a week later."

You scoffed at your friend. Okay, he wasn't wrong - your extremely short lived relationship with Felix was your only relationship to date. After that kiss, you'd both quickly realised you were much better off friends, and you'd even go as far as to say your friendship grew much more because of it.

"Whatever. You can't make me date anyone. I have exams soon-"

"In over a month," Chan interrupted.

"And I can't afford to be doing all this dating shit when I should be studying. You don't just become a lawyer overnight, Channie," you finished. Your friend gave you a dramatic sigh, smiling as he heaved himself off of the sofa.

"Okay, okay. I'll drop it for now," he said, heading to the kitchen of his penthouse apartment and pouring the bottle of wine you were both drinking into your glasses, finishing off the bottle. You had raised your eyebrows when Chan had brought out the bottle, but when he said you'd need it to survive Jisung's cooking, you obliged. "But we're not done with this conversation. I'm just looking out for you, kid."

You take the quarter glass of white wine Chris hands you, sipping it slowly as he sets himself back down on the sofa. It was Friday night, meaning you were about to head for Come Dine With Me: friend group edition. It was the tradition that followed on from Friday movie nights. Once you all had your own apartments, it was your idea to do something new and ditch the group movie night to take turns cooking for one another.

"Are we getting a taxi to Jisung and Minho's?" You asked. Chan shook his head, light brown locks bouncing.

"Nah, Hyunjin said he'd drive," he replied. "He just got a new car and he can't wait to show it off."

Although it was no secret that Hyunjin was loaded, he didn't rub it in any of your faces. Neither did Chan, who was extremely well off now too. However, the boys went crazy for cars. They were always trying to one up each other. You couldn't lie, you'd love to sport a nice car, but at the moment it was only a dream.

As if on cue, Hyunjin opens Chan's door, car keys in hand. He closes the door with his foot, smiling the whole time. He always looks so put together, today wearing black skin tight jeans and a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He's wearing his rings as usual and his newly dyed black hair is down rather than in a ponytail. He always dresses nicely, regardless of the event. You could only recall a handful of times you'd seen him in loungewear.

"Ready to go?" He says, and you and Chan finish your glasses of wine. You wince as you swallow the last sip of yours as having to gulp down wine is not pleasant. Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at you.

"Still a lightweight, princess?" He asks cheekily, using the nickname he had created for you when the two of you met. Hyunjin admitted when he first met Chan's friends, he was confused as to why his group of guy friends had one girl tagging along. He quickly realised, however, how integral you were within the friendships and how those boys would do pretty much anything for you if you needed it enough. Thus, you were the princess of the group.

"Still a prick, Hwang?" You countered, rising off the sofa and grabbing your jacket and bag to follow the boys out the door. He gave you his signature 'disgusted' look and feigned getting shot through the heart by an arrow. Dramatic as ever.

He began leading the way to the car park of the building Chan lived in. You two had always sported this playful banter, going back and forth often. Chris had become so used to it at this point that it didn't faze him. Soon enough, the three of you arrived at Hyunjin's car.

"A McLaren? Jesus," Chris exclaimed, whistling as he took a walk round the car. "What model?"

"570GT."

"Sweet. Can't wait to one up you when we buy out that small entertainment company I'm this close to closing a deal on," Chan smirked, taking the passengers seat, which you pouted at.

"Sorry, kid, the pout doesn't work on me anymore."

You climbed into the back seat of Hyunjin's car. It was lush, to say the least. It was sleek and black and absolutely gorgeous. You couldn't wait to get a car of your own someday. You had to admit, Hyunjin looked amazing in the drivers seat.

"So what do you think Jisung has made for us tonight," Chris asked you both as you set off.

"Boiled rice," you said. The boys chuckled, remembering the last time it was Jisung's turn to cook for you all. "Maybe some overcooked meat if we're lucky."

You continued joking at Jisung's expense until you pulled up outside his and Minho's shared apartment, and when you walked in, your jaw literally dropped.

CHAPTER TWO HERE!