#Warnings incredibly hopeless romantic messages

[samcvrpenters]

word count: 2.0k+

pairing: dan humphrey x fem! poet! reader

summary: dan finds himself with a secret admirer, who’s leaving him sweet poetry to show how much they respect and love him

warnings: could be seen as creepy but it’s not meant to be creepy, based on an ask/request.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

dan’s eyes are fixed on the antique parchment paper. the way it was folded neatly into quarters, and somehow straightened out even though he knows it’s years old. more than ten years, more than twenty years. he assumes it goes right back in time to the victorian era, because it looks so perfectly moulded, like it’s unable to be created in today’s time because nobody truly cares that much about such simple things like writing anymore.

he hasn’t opened it yet, because he feels that the sheer effort that someone is putting into this means that they’re putting effort into making him feel loved— feel special. it’s like some sort of love language that would be used by two hopeless romantics in the medieval period.

but knowing that someone is willing to do this much for him? he’s not opposed to the fact that he’s getting so much fan mail. is that what this is? he was a writer, and a known one at that. it would make sense for all of these to just be some person who just loves his work, not necessarily him.

but those poems?

the way this mystery person writes?

it speaks the truth, and the only truth of all of this was that someone respected him. loved him. someone felt that their heart belonged to him, and that was better than someone preferring serena van der woodsen to him, or even chuck bass.

because it meant someone appreciated him.

and really, that’s all he wanted out of all of this. to not be shadowed by the constant upper east side royalty and instead be looked up at.

he finally brings himself to unfold the parchment paper, which he believed looked a lot like tea stained paper, but he knew better. he knew that it was parchment. he had gotten one of these before, looked into it a little too, like a detective.

not like he knew it was you writing them.

he didn’t even know you. but you knew him, and that’s why you were leaving those exquisite pieces of writing that others would kill to have.

you’re an old fashioned writer, in the sense that you find yourself a pointed quill to write with and dip it in a bottle of ink. you need just the right consistency to make it perfect, and you’ve had a couple years of practice, so of course it is absolutely fine.

you’re not upper east side, nor are you completely poor. you’re from brooklyn, like him, and you can only find yourself looking up to him. really. a boy from brooklyn had managed to plant himself up in the upper east side and then personally destroy them with the book he wrote? it was incredible.

he finds his eyes scanning the words that are inked into the paper, his heart warming.

why were you so sweet to him?

he knows he needs to find out who you are, otherwise he’ll be forever getting sweet messages from his secret admirer. because that’s what you are. he doesn’t know who you are, and you’re admiring his work. you fit the definition.

it was written in cursive, hardly going out of the lines and curled in ways that proved extreme effort was put into it.

it spoke of admiration, of respect. of most things that was put in the last poem, yet with slight aspects of love in it. you hardly spoke of love in the last one, only a little. the strong metaphor of flowers and spring had slowly transformed into that of love, showing him what you truly thought of him.

and then he knew.

he knew that he had to find you.

he keeps it to himself, though. he refuses to ask around and accept any help from the upper east side, because that’s what you know him for. you know him to be independent and strong and— everything he thought he wasn’t, really. but you’ve given him the ability to rise up to the standards he’s set for himself and become even better.

he’d usually tell vanessa about something like this, sure. but after she exposed his book (making him have some sort of fame in his life), he refused to.

he hated her for it, really.

going through his stuff? digging through all of the things that are personal to him and not meant for the public’s dangerous gaze until it’s finally ready to be published? he hated that.

but, at the same time, it was what led you to like him. you wouldn’t have thought of him to be some incredible hero if she didn’t do it.

maybe you were giving credit to the wrong person here. maybe you should be writing those beautiful poems to vanessa, because she’s the one who opened up that part of him to the world.

he starts looking back through the one you sent him a couple of days ago, trying to find clues.

you talk of flowers.

maybe you’re at the park? maybe your love of flowers drives you to the park every day and you can sit there and write them for him?

no.

maybe you’re at the library. where else would you get the parchment paper from? he was sure they would have something like that there, but no.

you’re not there.

he thinks one day he’ll find you, quill in hand and writing your next work down on it for him to find. apart from he would have already found it, because it would have been with you.

maybe you have a stash of poems ready to send to him. maybe you’ve already wrote them all and you’re sending them out one at a time because you want him to look for you.

he’s not sure.

he’s been looking for days now, and the next piece of parchment comes in. it’s in an envelope this time, sealed with wax— a colour that he’s come to associate with you. light yellow. you talk of spring, and that’s the first colour he thinks of. light yellow. maybe you know that’s his thought process, or maybe it’s your favourite colour.

he peels it off, almost wanting to savour the wax seal because it might be a clue.

fancy a humphrey playing detective, right? rufus was always good at finding things. maybe it was a like father like son situation. maybe he would be able to become a detective.

looking for you.

searching for you.

wishing you were there.

he opens up the folded paper, eyes scanning the poetry. it’s the usual sort of emotion-evoking sonnet that makes his heart beat faster against his chest and make him yearn for you.

he’s glad that you have such an interest in writing. because maybe when he finds you, you two can be friends. yet it’s obvious that you speak of love when it comes to him.

he’s just not sure he’s ready to love words on paper. perhaps it was a materialisation of your feelings. maybe all you have to do is think of how much you adore him, how much you’re willing to make him the subject of your life, and it just appears in front of your eyes and you send it off.

are you from the upper east side?

are you from somewhere totally different?

are you from brooklyn?

his questions remain unanswered as he reaches the end of the sonnet, his head falling back against the wall as he stares up at the ceiling.

maybe it’s hidden.

maybe where you are is hidden, and all this time he just hasn’t seen it.

he collects up the poems again, putting them in the order he got them as he scans the first letter of every line to see if it makes a location. no. he assumes you want to stay secret, because it doesn’t reveal anything. why would it? you’re meant to be a secret admirer. not someone he knows.

but maybe you want him to know you.

he wouldn’t blame you. not really.

maybe you think that they can have a start to a perfect relationship just because of a few things you wrote. it wasn’t a careless sort of thing, though. you weren’t typing on a typewriter and you weren’t scribbling down on ripped up pieces of paper.

no, you care.

another one comes through the next day.

it’s in an envelope, and it’s the same piece of parchment as always.

he can’t help but yearn for you, even now. he’s pining over you in the same way you’re pining for him, and he doesn’t even know your name.

but you write something at the bottom, and it’s different to the usual quote that’s used.

it’s the first letter of your name.

and, of course, that doesn’t help him discover anything in the slightest, because there’s millions of people in the city and only twenty-six letters of the alphabet, and you’ve used one of them.

he sighs, again.

he can’t count the amount of times he has wished that you just appear in front of him, like some magical creature that would just appear at every opportunity you can. like he can just call for you and you’ll be there— and he would know your true identity.

dan finds himself at a cafe. he’s ordered a plain old coffee, and has poured a little bit of sugar in there, and he’s mulling over life.

he’s sat on a table next to two friends, who are chatting away. he’s listening to the conversation. he knows it’s eavesdropping, and he has no idea who they are, but he can’t help but listen.

��how are you feeling? i know after the cold you got a couple of weeks ago you’ve been feeling off. but it’s good to see you’re willing to go out for drinks.”

“yeah, i’ve been keeping myself busy.”

“with what? those shakespearean—like sonnets over some random man you admire? come on, i thought you were moving onto writing about nature or something. that’s what you told me.”

“yeah, well… i decided not to. but i’ve run out of paper now and i can’t send anymore until i go back out to visit my grandmother.”

“how do you run out of paper? there’s trees everywhere. it’s sold everywhere. why do you have to go visit some elderly relative to get it?”

“because it’s not that sort of paper.”

he manages to quickly conclude that one of those friends is you. who else would be sending sonnets to a man they admire and need a specific type of paper to do it? he wasn’t sure. he could only assume that it was you.

his head turns a little to glance over his shoulder. and he sees you.

you’re not a pretentious, money-hungry upper east side princess who wants nothing more than to gain total control of all your friends and acquaintances.

no.

you’re dressed in denim, something the upper east side wouldn’t do even if they were threatened.

and you’re beautiful.

you’re exactly how he imagined, really.

the eyes. the face. the smile as your friend says something funny and the understanding look on your face when it’s declared that they need to visit the bathroom for a minute.

he knows it’s you.

because this person is caring, like the person who’s been writing him poetry.

he turns fully around in his chair, watching as you took a small sip of the drink you had before setting it back down on the table.

“it’s you.” his voice is knowing. it’s not blunt. not cold. he sounds sweet. it’s not like he’s trying to make you feel guilty about it. no. he just wants you to know that he knows it’s you.

he watches your lips purse together, your eyes focusing on him, as if contemplating something for a moment before you allow yourself to nod.

“it is.” you respond.

and that’s when he knows.

he knows he wants you too.

[beybaldes]

my first, my last, my everything

summer sleepover masterlist

roy kent x gn!reader

summary : “i could be your family” requested by the loml @onceuponaoneshotfanfic <33

content warning : readers family are a little mean because they are moving away from home, set pre-ted lasso era.

an : what a cute prompt :(((( domestic roy is something so personal to me :(((( title is based on the song of the same name by barry white !!

It was well known by anyone that had even heard of him that Roy Kent was ‘one tough cookie’ (as Ted had called him in a interview once when he first came to Richmond), and the sentiment had seemed to stick. But back when Roy first asked you out, you knew you were in for a world of romance.

Based on his ‘I don’t like anyone or anything’ aesthetic alone, you figured he’d be a secret softie and the worlds most hopeless romantic - and you’d been totally right. The evening of your first date, he’d shown up with 2 dozen red roses, kept his hand on your thigh the entire car ride, opened every door for you, pulled out every chair for you, and complimented you at every opportunity. When he walked you back to your door, after a night of being a perfect gentleman, he gave you the most searing and passionate kiss of your life, leaving without another word.

After spending half an hour sat in bed debating if his silence after the kiss was his way of letting you down gently, you searched to see if there was any meaning behind the 2 dozen red roses he’d given you.

The traditional romantic message of 24 roses is that of complete devotion, or “I am yours.”

You had no doubt you’d been seeing Roy Kent for a date, and getting kissed by him like that, again.

4 years later, almost each and every day of it spent together, Roy asks you if you’re willing to move across the country with him if the bid from Chelsea goes through and he gets transferred. When he asks, head hung low and his hands in tight fists, you can tell he expects you to say no. Expects you to explain that while you love him, and you’ve loved these last 4 years, that you can’t - won’t - leave Sunderland. He is ready for this to be the biggest heartbreak of his young life and have it ruin every other partner for him.

You say yes in a heartbeat, and seal it with a kiss just a searing as the one he gave you after your first date.

The move down south is long and tiring, but so worth it. You’re closer to Roy’s mum and sister, he gets to play for his childhood team, your work seamlessly transferred you to it’s sister company, and you were living in a beautiful house with the love of your life (who had an incredibly sexy shaggy mullet going on). Life couldn’t have been better.

Except for the fact that your family hadn’t stopped bombarding you with text messages about your move all week. You still had boxes left to unpack and they were already making you regret your decision. Not the decision of moving in with Roy, you’d go fucking anywhere with Roy, but they made it so hard to allow yourself to feel like you’d made the right choice when they were constantly telling you you hadn’t.

Every single one of them was telling you Roy would leave you sooner or later, for some model, footballer, actress or one of the spice girls. One of your uncles even had a bet going with one of his mates from the pub that Roy would fuck all five before then end of his career. To say it made you feel like shit would be an understatement.

“Sunshine, I’m home.” Roy shouted from the front door, kicking it closed behind him and then kicking his shoes off. He’s been doing press about the transfer all day, and he feels terrible having left you in the new house all alone to unpack, but he knows it’s just part of the move, there’s ultimately nothing he can do about it. Still, the only thing he wants to do before he has to go out for another full day of press tomorrow is curl up in your arms, have you run your fingers through his hair, and whisper sweet nothings in his ear about the new life the two of you are going to build together in London. Instead he is met with what seems like a cold and empty house. “Babe? You here?”

You’re sprawled on the couch Roy had insisted was way too big, but looked small now in the middle of the gigantic living room, lazily covered in a throw blanket and only wearing one of Roy’s Sunderland shirts. Even though you’d heard him come in, you didn’t have the strength to call out to him, especially not when your phone was still frantically buzzing against the coffee table every 10 seconds.

“Sunshine? What are you doing in here?” Roy places something down on the kitchen counter and you can hear it thanks to the main rooms open plan, and you can tell he’s getting closer to you because you can hear the soft padding of his feet against the wooden floor. “You okay?”

Even though he wants nothing more then for him to crawl into your arms, he knows you need it more then he does right now. So, before you can resist him, he pulls you into his arms, sitting the two of you upright on the settee with you in his lap, his hand in your hair. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“Nothing Roy-o, just tired. Missed you.” You hid your head in the crook of his neck, hoping that if you burrowed deep enough into his mix of warmth and aftershave, you could hide from the constant buzzing of your phone. “It’s a big house, I feel so small without you here to share it.”

“Give me a week, sunshine, then I can be here all day every day until preseason. And then we’ll be on a pretty similar work schedule.” Roy pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, ghosting a kiss against your temple and the another against the shell of your ear. “It’s going to be perfect. You. Me. Here. It’s all going to work out, sunshine.”

For a moment, you believed Roy and it felt like everything was going to be okay, that you’d made that right choice, and that you and Roy were taking the first step towards the rest of your lives. Then your phone buzzed.

“Fucking hell, babe, you got a fan club or what?” When you didn’t laugh, Roy’s concern only grew, leaning forward and picking up your phone to see what all the commotion was. As he scrolled through message after message from family member after family member, his brow grew tense, and a scowl settled on his face. “What a fucking joke.”

“Roy.”

“No, seriously, they can say all they want about me. I don’t give a fuck. I never have. But about you?” Roy scoffed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you with him as he leant against the back of the sofa. “You’re fucking related to them and this is how they’re talking to you? It’s a fucking joke.”

“They’re my family, Roy-o, they’re just trying to look out for me, that’s all.” One of your hands moved to run up Roy’s chest, tracing around the embroidered material of the Chelsea badge right over his heart. God, did he look good in blue.

“Some fucking family, to treat you like that.” Roy ran a hand over his forehead, pushing his curls of out his eyes. You loved his hair like this, grown out and curly like in the pictures you’d seen of him as a kid. Maybe one day you’d convince him to push it out of his eyes with a headband. He’d look sexy in a headband. “I could be your family.”

Roy’s hand cupped your jaw, turning your head slowly to face him. When your eyes finally met his, he pressed a soft and long kiss to your lips. You melted into it, the stress of the week and of the messages from your family melting away under Roy’s loving touch. “You’re already my family, Roy. It’s like you said, me, you, here. Besides, you have been since you wormed your way into my heart on our first date with those 2 dozen roses.”

“Funny you’d say that.” Roy whispered, nuzzling his nose against yours, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips then pulling away with a smirk. “Thought the new house could do with some greenery.”

As you turned to look at the kitchen counter, you saw what you could only assume was 2 dozen roses already in vases. It must have been what Roy brought home with him, and suddenly you wished you’d been feeling happier and could’ve appreciated them more when he first walked in the door.

“The traditional romantic message of 24 roses is that of complete devotion, or “I am yours.”” You repeated under your breath, a warm smile brightening your whole face. Roy’s eyes widened, as though he hadn’t necessary expected you to know the meaning behind 2 dozen roses, but he loved you even more for it.

“I am yours.” Roy repeated, voice filled with complete and utter earnest. “And one day I’m going to put a ring in your finger to prove it.”

an : Mwah!!!! Love you guys thank you for reading so far <333

[lieyarzy]

That's your Wife Sensei?!

Synopsis: A powerful sorcerer must keep one of his/her treasures hidden but does he/she need to hide the said treasure if they are powerful enough?

Warning/s: ⚠️ crack/fluff

Character/s: "Y/n" as the hidden wife, Gojo Satoru, Megumi Fushiguro, Yuji Itadori, and Kugisaki Nobara

Author: Back to back posting my drafts. Feel free to request some and message them to me just in case my inbox suddenly doesn't work!

In the world of jujutsu sorcery, Gojo Satoru was a legend. His power was unmatched, his charm was irresistible, and his personality was as eccentric as they come. But there was one aspect of his life that left his students utterly baffled - his incredibly beautiful wife, Y/n.

One sunny afternoon, after a rigorous training session, Gojo's students, led by the ever-curious Megumi Fushiguro, decided to approach Y/n. They were determined to uncover the truth behind their seemingly mismatched relationship.

As they approached Y/n, they were struck by her radiant smile and welcoming demeanor. She greeted them warmly, inviting them into the home she shared with Gojo. The students exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued.

"Y/n, we have to ask," Megumi began, trying to sound as respectful as possible. "Is Gojo...threatening you to date him?"

Y/n blinked in surprise, then burst into laughter. Her laughter was infectious, and soon, even the students couldn't help but join in. The idea of Gojo, with his playful personality and constant teasing, threatening anyone was simply too absurd.

"Oh, you boys," Y/n said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "Gojo could never threaten anyone. He's too much of a softie."

"But he's so...Gojo," Nobara chimed in, struggling to find the right words. "And you're so...not."

Y/n laughed again, shaking her head. "I know Gojo can be a bit much sometimes, but he's also kind, caring, and incredibly sweet. He's the one who pursued me, you know. He was so persistent and charming, I couldn't help but fall for him."

The students were silent, processing what Y/n had just revealed. They looked at each other, their expressions a mix of disbelief and amusement. They had always seen Gojo as their eccentric and powerful teacher, but now, they were seeing a new side of him - Gojo, the hopeless romantic.

From that day forward, the students never questioned Gojo's relationship with Y/n again. Instead, they found themselves looking up to their teacher, not just for his strength and skill, but also for his ability to love so deeply and openly. And every time they saw Gojo and Y/n together, they couldn't help but smile, knowing that their teacher had found his perfect match.

[nectardaddy]

Foolish [Jean Kirstein x reader] 1

** Modern, college au because my Porco story is HEAVY, and I need something lighter. Cliché couple of incredibly smart while apart but dumb as hell together. Starting off with the classic too stupid to realize you both like each other. Pronouns are she/her for this story!

Trigger Warning: language

Enjoy!

-- Tunes: Pursuit of Happiness (Nightmare) ; Kid Cudi Let Me Know ; Juice WRLD

Hearing the loud chime of the bell tower across campus, you counted the short tolls in your mind before it stopped at ten. Closing your eyes and groaning, you simply couldn't believe that it was already so late in the evening. You tried to be a good student, truly, but the unfinished paper that lit up your laptop screen said otherwise. Knowing the material like the back of your hand, but lacking in the motivation department. Closing your computer with a sigh, you completely gave up, deciding to email the professor tomorrow with an excuse on why it's late.

Picking up your phone, you scrolled through social media mindlessly. Craving any escape you could from the paper that daunted your mind, and successfully losing it within the internet. A small chime caused you to look up at the top of your screen, a message coming through that made the hopeless romantic in you smile.

Jean: Are you struggling with this paper as much as I am? Jean: If you aren't just lie and say you are because I've lost all hope.

With a small chuckle to yourself, you clicked on the messages. You had known the man since freshman year of college, meeting him by chance at a party and later having a handfull of classes with him. You two were different majors, but both had to suffer through mandatory courses - the class with this dreadful paper was one of many. Smiling, you typed out a reply.

I don't have to lie I think I'm losing brain cells trying to write this thing. I'm only at 2 pages

Jean: Show off. I only have 1

Use thatbrain of yours, I know you have one up there

Jean: This brain was not meant for psychology

Your brain wasn't meant for much J

You rolled your eyes upon seeing the man saw the message and stopped replying. Jean was terrible at responding, especially if something else stole his attention. He'd much rather call or talk face to face, to which you teased him for. But his attention was easily grabbed by countless things, noting that it truly was better to actually speak with him.

Putting your phone down, you let out a groan as you stretched. Your back cracking, giving you relief from the sitting position you were in for nearly hours. Getting up from your bed, where you chose to do a majority of your homework rather than the desk, you sighed and rubbed at your strained eyes. Hearing your phone chime again, your eyes flickered over to the lit screen once more.

Jean: Let's find a party

Now this wasn't the first time the man had been a bit direct with you. More times than not, he was a straight shooter; not caring the connotation of his words, often times not even caring if he knew they would be taken differently. Another chime caught your attention as you picked your phone up once more.

Jean: I know you're not even doing that paper loser. Let's get drunk and forget that paper even exists

Biting at your lip, you wanted to text back a resounding yes all too quickly. But you restrained, wanting to think it over in your mind before answering. Hanging out was always what he called it, but to you it felt like torture to your heart. The man had a charm to him that you simply couldn't escape, even if you wanted to. Hanging out always involved drinking, and drinking always led to bad decisions.

The man wouldn't dare to even think to do something you wouldn't like or didn't want, rather the opposite. It was the fact you firmly believed that every interaction wasn't as sincere as you thought. One night, getting so belligerent that you had the gumption to kiss the man. A heated kiss but led to nothing more, and both pretending like it never even happened come the morning.

You often asked yourself why on earth did you want a man such as him. Not a complete whore, but definitely using his charm and looks to his advantage with any woman who passed. He tried, oh did he try, sometimes even in your presence, and failed miserably a good percentage. It made your heart strings pull in knots to know he was a flirt, good at it or not, but you wanted him regardless.

He often let you see parts of him no one else got to see, indulging you in rants and excitement over his love for history. And goodness was the man good at it, top in his major though he played it down very often. You were complete opposites. You had a love for science, while he saw it only as difficult coursework; while he loved history, and you thought it was a bore. But it drew you to him regardless, as he could make anything interesting.

That would involve me getting ready, which I have no motivation to do

Jean: You always look pretty damn good to me

As soon as your eyes scanned over the message, you felt a heat center on your face. These were the moments you felt like the man knew exactly what he was doing, buttering you up only to be left hanging at the end of the night. Looking over yourself, you let out a breath, deciding you certainly didn't look terrible. A little tired, clothes a bit disheveled from sitting, but a quick fix. If anything, you would be comfortable tonight.

Fine, I'll go. I'm not planning on getting too drunk tonight though

Jean: THANK GOD Jean: I really wanted to go out tonight now I have a hot date to go with me Jean: And yeah you say that now light weight, stop trying to out drink me and maybeyou wouldn't get so fucked up

With a few other messages being sent back and forth, deciding where and when, you put your phone down with a smile. You knew the man since freshman year, but he still had the capability of giving you butterflies. It was an intriguing feeling, but one you were so captivated with you didn't want to let it go. This man was truly going to be the death of you.

[xxstarryxeyedxx]

{The Horizon}

(manhwa) 21 chapters 2016

Author and Artist :  Jeong ji-hoon

I stumbled across this manhwa a week ago.The hell that is TikTok kept recommending me slideshows of some of the chapters and right from the beginning I knew it was something extremely sad and intense.I tend to stray away from these sort of media,especially nihilistic and pessimistic ones that are depressing just for the romantization of it or for the sake of just..being depressing.But TikTok really wanted me to read this manhwa as it recommended it to me over five times back to back.So I gave in.And I am so greatful that I did

Right off the bat I have to warn you this work deals with extremely heavy ,mature themes.War,loss,death and survival are prominent things in this manhwa and it does not hold back.As well as a big trigger warning for attempted SA ((even though in my opinion the themes surrounding it and the way it was handled is very calculated and careful))

In an Un-named post apocalyptic world,where war and disease have overtaken most of humanity ,a boy and a girl find themselves all alone,having lost their families and homes,with no choice but to keep moving forward in a long unknown road.They encounter many different people as they go,shaping their story and their experience of the horrors of war,through the eyes of two kids who have no one but each other.What absolutely blew me away is the story of these two and countless others presented in just 21 chapters.The commentary on war,child soldiers,the philosophising of the meaning life and death take in such a setting and most importantly,hope, perseverance and love.A diverse cast of characters,even though the story is much more focused on the illustrative part rather than the dialogue.I do not want to spoil much(as always) as I did end up crying continously while reading it after it had reached the middle.

For a story based on it's illustrations I wouldn't say that the character designs or the way the artist draws their figures is the strong point of it's art.Rather,it is the amazing backrounds,the panelling,the use of big and vast spaces and the coloring of them and most incredibly,how the art style switches in these crazed pen strokes,mad scribbles and lines to convey intensity,hopelessness or sadness that really manages to strike a cord in your heart.The message is absolutely direct and scarily raw emotion is brought by those images.

It is a very short read,it took me about two hours.One that I recommend wholeheartedly,while always being aware of it's themes.

personal rating 9.5/10

[lilywily143]

Day 9: Text

This is probably the cheeseist piece of fanart I have done for the Ninjago fanon...

This is my first attempt of a image description, so bear with me....

[Id: Top left part of the art has Lloyd kicking Miss Demenor off the screen, with a emote on the side of her yelling in a flame. He is also texting to the other two people in the picture with two hearts to show he is texting lovey-dovey texts. He also has his tail shaped vaguely like a heart. Lloyd has more Oni and dragon features; horns, tail as mentioned, and wings. His gi design is from The Island. His phone is solid black. Lloyd has a part of his hair dyed purple, like his tail, but in a darker shade.]

[Bottom Left part has Brad as a teenager instead of a kid like he was shown the last time in the show. He's texting lovey-dovey texts just like Lloyd is. But he is sitting at some faraway restaurant, drinking a cherry shake. His phone has fox heads on the case. He is wearing a black jacket and a green & black striped shirt under it, the black stripes are thinner than the green stripes.]

[Middle at the bottom has Gene as a teenager, around the same age as Brad. But I draw them as transfem. Her name is Chunami. She has a long-sleeved shirt in blue. Also a darker shade of blue on her skirt. Chunami has a phone case in pink with cats in different colors. The top one is red, the next one is orange, then yellow, and the last one that is visible is blue. Chunami has her face hidden in the blue bean bag she's laying in, and also a red blush. She is flustered from the lovey-dovey text Brad & Lloyd are sending in their group chat. An angry emote is around her head to show try and show that she seems angry at their comments. But Chunami loves it.]

[All the way to the right is Chunami'a phone on the texting app. It shows the group chat includes Brad and Lloyd, with their profile pics being solid colors. The screen is colores in traditionally used valentine colors, shades of pink. The text bubbles are shaped vaguely like hearts. The first text bubble that shows is from Lloyd. It says, "I'd fight the world for U2!!" The next text is from Brad. It says, "Aww <3". The text bubble that is pointed to the right is from Chunami. It reads, "Shut up >:(". The last text bubble shown is from Brad. It says, "We know you love us, babe <3". The write text part that makes more text bubbles read as, "I love y". The word suggestion include you, your, you're. It shows that Chunami was going to most likely text back "I love you too" to Lloyd and Brad]

Close ups of art and the prompts for the month under cut ->

Also the month's prompts

[pandoa]

"the language of ily"

lilia teaches malleus the wonders of modern texting slang. but when his child of man sends him a strange text that says “ily”, he struggles to find the meaning behind (Y/n)’s peculiar acronym. 

~malleus draconia x gender neutral reader~

warnings: none!

“So,” Malleus stared at Lilia in awe, “the children of men have deliberately established their own mailing language as a means for more efficient and simpler messaging techniques?”

Lilia quietly chuckled at the boy’s cluelessness. “Well, yes, but it’s more of a texting language rather than mailing, I would say. It’s electronic, fufufu.”

“Incredible…” The Diasomnia dorm leader glanced at the small device laying on his lap with pure mesmerisation. Humans were a fascinating kind, no doubt. Though, even with the longer life span he had compared to the non-fae beings, Malleus could never fully comprehend the mechanisms of modern technology. “Say, Lilia…” the fae prince said hesitantly, “do you think you could teach me this ‘texting language’ of the children of men? (Y/n) is often around that Heartslabyul student, I believe his name is Cater Diamond, and occasionally uses these intriguing terms to converse with their friends.” Malleus averted his gaze with an uncharacteristic sense of embarrassment shown within his body movement. “I wish to understand at least some of these terms.”

Lilia’s face lit up with exhilaration. His young prince had a crush! On the prefect, at that! Wiping off the proud tears from his ruby-colored eyes, he craned his head up to Malleus. “Of course, I will teach you! My days of gaming late into the night with online users have paid off, hehe~”

Sliding closer to the housewarden’s figure, Lilia proceeded to explain the many acronyms, slang, and emoticons to the astounded heir of Briar Valley in vivid detail.

“Now this, Malleus, is what internet users type when they are uncontrollably laughing at a message. It stands for ‘Rolling on Floor Laughing.’” Lilia intelligently pushed up his imaginary pair of glasses.

“Am I required to truly roll on the floor as I laugh to make this acronym accurate when I use it?”

Lilia paused, pondering on his prince’s question before replying with a playful, “Yes.”

Ding!

The younger fae flinched from his seat at the sudden sound of his phone ringing. “Oh! Apologies for the interruption, but my child of man has delivered me an electronic letter.”

“It’s called a text, dear Malleus, but go on.” Lilia, who was now conveniently behind Malleus, had begun scanning the blinding phone screen in search of anything he found amusing. “What have they sent?”

“It is a strange acronym with the letters I, L, and Y. I’m afraid I do not understand.” Malleus dejectedly stared at his device, looking quite similar to an endearing puppy pouting at his genuine confusion.

Having enough of the housewarden’s sulking, however, was Lilia as he placed a contemplating finger under his chin, utilizing a portion of his brainpower to help the younger fae.

I, L, and Y… Could it be? 

“Ah, yes! Of course!” The prince’s caretaker jolted up in excitement after a small moment of silence as he deciphered the adorable acronym you had sent. How cute! Clasping his hands together, Lilia exclaimed with a slight skip to his step in joy. “Malleus, this is great news! It means ‘I love you.’”

“I have a deep affection for you as well, Lilia. You have been my caretaker ever since I was a small fae, so that seems self explanatory. But what does this have to do with my child of man?” 

Exhaling in discouragement, Lilia vigorously shook his head from side to side. The mage before him had significantly misunderstood his statement. “No, no, Malleus. (Y/n) is saying ‘I love you’ in that message.”

“Why would they feel the need to inform me of your emotions?”

Oh, Great Seven, he was hopeless. The bat fae raised his palm to smack himself in the face. His poor, sweet, innocent prince. So gullible, so oblivious. Every romantic advance (Y/n) seemed to make never failed to fly over the top of Malleus’s dense head to the point that all of NRC had known about the prefect’s romantic intentions towards the fae except him. It was, in all honesty, a comical sight to see. Although, to the relief of (Y/n), Lilia’s amusement never prevented him from playing matchmaker for the two students. It was in the name of blooming love, after all!

“Malleus, I want you to look me straight in the eyes.” The older fae took hold of Malleus’s much taller form as he levitated himself up to meet with the slow-minded prince on an even level. “(Y/n) has just told you that they love you.”

The dorm leader sat blankly and unmoving on his spot in the Diasomnia dorm lounge. What? Had he heard Lilia’s words correctly? Malleus had sent his caretaker, for the millionth time that day, another empty stare into oblivion.

“Love? As in the intense feeling of fondness for an individual? The emotion that releases a number of chemicals in a living body such as high levels of dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin, a neuropeptide produced in the hypothala-“

“Yes, yes! That love.” Lilia quickly interrupted his precious housewarden’s unnecessary scientific definition as he was growing impatient to the boy’s oblivious nature.

Silence soon befell on the two Diasomnia students.

“Then,” Malleus rose from his seat, breaking the quiet atmosphere. “I must go to them and reciprocate their feelings.”

“Right now? It’s practically midnight-“

“It is no matter,” he confidently declared. “I am always there at this time admiring their gargoyles, anyway. Thank you, Lilia, for enlightening me on the ways of modern letter-exchanging. I deeply appreciate it.” Malleus bid the shorter fae a goodbye with a swift nod of his head. “I shall be off, now.”

“Ah, yes, go ahead.”

And so, with a flick of his wrist, Malleus had disappeared with shimmering green sparkles following him thereafter before he could even finish saying “child of man.” Seeing as the dorm leader was gone, Lilia had let out an exasperated sigh. Acting as Cupid and modern translator for his dearest Malleus’s necessities was wholeheartedly a huge honor; although, he could do without the exhaustion that came with it. Relieved to finally have some leisurely time alone, Lilia kicked off his shining black boots and sunk into the comforting cushion of the dorm’s couch. 

Rest for the single father of three, at last.

“LILIA, WHERE HAS THE YOUNG MASTER GONE OFF TO?”

Nevermind, scratch that. There was never rest for the single bat dad. Startling what appeared to be the entirety of the Diasomnia dorm was none other than the tumultuous voice of Sebek roaring from the entrance way of the lounge. 

“Oh, he went to go see (Y/n).”

“HE WHAT???” The first year shouted with disbelief evident in his boisterous tone. “WHY WOULD HE GO AND SEE THAT HUMAN?! THEY ARE NOT EVEN WORTHY OF THE YOUNG MASTER’S GAZE—“

Lilia, who had hopped down from his area on the couch, floated over to Sebek’s proximity while placing a quieting finger against his lips. “Hush now, Sebek. Let the young lovers flourish.”

“BUT THE YOUNG MASTER—“

“—Will be giving me new little baby grandchildren soon, fufu~”

The first year froze in complete distress at the old fae’s comment. “Gr..GRANDCHILDREN?!?!?”

“That’s right, but, uh, Sebek,” Lilia took notice of the green-haired boy's wavering shoulders and dilating eyes with concern. “Are you feeling well? It looks as if you’re about to collapse.”

“The… young master…and human… having…childre…”

Thump!

“Oh for Seven’s sake, SEBEK WAKE UP—”

a/n:  (y/n) can have malleus, i want his adorable bat dad I MEAN-

[mingtinys]

Mingi as a boyfriend

pairing : song mingi x gn!reader

fluff , headcanon

warnings : some mentions of fighting

word count : 1.1k

requested ?  yes

a/n : i swear i meant to make this shorter … thank you for requesting!

A relationship with Mingi will no doubt be filled with excitement, wholesome love, and many memories.

When the two of you first begin dating, he'll likely feel that everything needs to be perfect all the time. He's still sort of stuck in the "I need to impress them" phase.

So expect lots of flowers, romantic dates, occasional gifts, and an always smiley, happy-go-lucky Mingi at first.

This may continue for a while until he feels more secure in the relationship. But once he comes to the realization you love him for everything he is, good and bad alike, the relationship will solidify. He'll mellow out and start showing more intimate sides of himself.

When it comes to your relationship and the public eye, Mingi has no issue showing you off to the world and his fans. He loves nothing more than to brag about you in interviews and lives.

Calls you his muse.

However, if you're not comfortable with the idea of going public, he has no problem keeping your relationship secret. Has definitely almost slipped up a couple of times though.

Dates usually consist of some sort of activity.

Mingi can be very energetic, so carnival, park, laser tag, and zoo dates are a must. But deep down he's also a cheesy, hopeless romantic, so be prepared for fancy dinners and stargazing in an empty field as well.

However, if you're someone who prefers more low-energy dates, he has no problem adjusting and doing relaxed movie nights as well.

Work, of course, gets to be a lot. Because of this, there are periods of time when he doesn't get to see you as much as he would like.

He tries to call or facetime as much as possible, even spare a visit when he can.

He'll always take the initiative to do so.

Although you calling first and taking the initiative every now and then means the world to him. Mingi appreciates effort and small but meaningful acts tremendously. So surprising him with a text, voice message, or quick coffee date to let him know you're also missing him goes a long way.

The quickest way to his heart is really to put in just as much love and effort as he does.

Mingi is definitely a “words of affirmation” type of boyfriend.

Big on saying "I love you" as much as possible. But that doesn't mean the phrase loses any meaning. He won't say it unless he truly means it. And he does, wholeheartedly every time.

He finds comfort and validation in how you outwardly express your love. You're missing him? He wants to know. Something you saw made you think of him? He'd like to hear about it. You love him? Please remind him. In return, he'll shower you with the same energy.

It's easy for him to get in his own head, but receiving confirmation eases the anxiety.

Mingi also loves physical touch, so I'm sorry but you'll never have more than one hand free ever again.

One of you is driving? He's either holding your hand or has his on your thigh. Sitting next to each other? Fingers are intertwined within seconds. Walking together? Prepare to be that couple happily swinging your clasped hands back and forth. He's nervous? Mingi completely zones into your hands and just fiddles with your fingers. Whenever and wherever without fail, he'll just subconsciously reach out for you.

It's like his hand has its own gravitational pull.

Mingi also loves when you play with his hair or trace shapes on his skin. It's such a small act but feels so incredibly intimate to him. He'll lay in your lap for hours, telling you about his day or dozing off while your fingers work their magic.

Does get fussy if you stop. Will whine and place your hand back in his hair himself if necessary.

But don't worry, you always end up receiving a back massage or the same in return.

Cuddling while sleeping is a requirement. Absolutely not up for debate.

If you're not tucked away in his embrace, then he's clinging to your waist, arm, or anything he can latch onto. Even if you end up separating or getting up in the middle of the night he always finds his way back.

And good luck because this man radiates more heat than the sun itself.

Something that will be very important to Mingi is meeting his parents, especially his mother. He wants the people in his life to be as connected as possible.

Spoiler alert: they absolutely love you, his mom especially. Her son's happiness is always a priority, so seeing the giant grin on his face as he introduced the two of you had her sold in three seconds flat.

Mingi unknowingly just subjected himself to a lifetime of "They're a good one, you better treat them well." and "How is my child-in-law? When can we expect a wedding?"

Yeah, it's safe to say you're part of the family.

Mingi is extremely intelligent, not only logically but emotionally. He has your mannerisms and body language down within a few weeks.

He can pick up on you emotions and is very in tune with how you silently express yourself. He always acts accordingly to comfort you as best he can.

The reverse is the same. You're able to pick up on his emotional state by just looking at him. It never ceases to amaze him how quickly you act to calm or comfort him if he's nervous or ask about his day if he seems particularly giddy.

He also remembers every birthday, anniversary, date, and special occasion.

A pro at valentines day.

Fights/disputes with Mingi usually don't last long.

He's very good at expressing what's bothering him in a calm manner and will listen without interruption when you express an issue you have.

Fights almost always come from a place of hurt and misunderstanding for Mingi, never anger. So resolving them isn't as exhausting as one may think.

He can be prideful and stubborn at times though. If the fight is intense enough or Mingi doesn't feel you're fully understanding him, he gets defensive. In this case, it may take a few hours of alone time before he's ready to come back and talk through it.

One thing Mingi refuses to do is raise his voice and yell at you. Sure, it will fluctuate and occasionally get louder the more passionate he gets, but he never shouts.

There will also more than likely be petty arguments where neither of you is right and the issue doesn't really matter.

And for some reason, these are the hardest to work out?? They're so pointless and stupid but neither of you wanna just let it go. However, the two of you always work it out somehow and apologize for your respective actions in instigating the argument.

The power of his pout is no joke, it can crumble even the tallest of pillars in milliseconds. So staying mad at him is an impossible feat.

Overall, boyfriend! Mingi loves loud and unapologetically. So you're in for an extremely loving and entertaining ride.

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer write letters back and forth, both of them slowly starting to fall in deeper. Category: Smut (18+) Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, masturbation (male and female), sexting, face sitting Word Count: 6.3k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello!! Sorry this has been so long in the making, but for a while my inspiration for this story absolutely disappeared, and then I tried to think of how to bridge the previous chapters to the final one with absolutely no luck. And then I re-read Part 2 and got stuck on the letter, thus this chapter was born! I didn’t want to drag this miniseries out any longer than 4 parts, and the letter format combined with other inner monologuing and description really allowed me to do that in an interesting way that hopefully doesn’t feel rushed! 

It was so much fun and very refreshing to write. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you all for being so patient while I get my shit together 😅 Love you guys! Enjoy 🥰

***

We've been sending letters back and forth for about a month now.

If I'm being honest, it took me about two weeks to decide whether or not I actually wanted to send one back, but could you blame me?

Here was this guy I couldn't stop thinking about after a one-night stand, only for him to catch me—months later at the same exact bar we'd met in—flirting with his friend. And then after our sexual encounter that night, all the things we said, the connection I thought we had, all of it...

He left it all behind the next morning, only to send me a letter in the mail.

I was pissed.

Sure, it was a nice letter, but the fact that he'd reduced what we had down to a piece of paper and scribbled ink had made me angrier than I cared to admit.

In retrospect, I may have overreacted.

Over time I started re-reading his words, and the more I thought about it all, the more I started to regret my anger. And more than anything, I just wanted to see him again. I couldn't stay mad at him, not when all I could picture was his pouty face and nervous hands. His sunbeam of a smile peeked through the clouds of my anger here and there, and the longer it settled, the more it bathed me in a warm light that should have made me happy. But all it did was make me long for him.

Once I'd actually started writing that first letter back, I wondered why I hadn't jumped on the opportunity in the first place. I mean, after all the cliché shit we'd experienced in our short relationship thus far, adding love letters to the mix was just as perfect as you could get, right?

Spencer,

I'm sorry it's taken me this long to finally write you back. Truthfully I wasn't sure I wanted to write you at all, but your letter kept drawing me back in. I couldn't stop re-reading it, imagining you sitting down somewhere and contemplating every word as you wrote them down. I wondered if you'd thrown out hundreds of pieces of paper after messing up when you could have just as well typed out a letter without wasting them.

And then by that point, all I could think about was just you.

I always pictured what your living room looks like, or your kitchen table, or your office, or wherever you sit down to write. I wondered if you looked like one of those hopeless writers in the movies that have a scruffy face, coffee stains on their white tee shirts, and messy hair that hasn't been washed in days due to lack of inspiration.

But in the end, the image that won out over all the others was just you as I remember.

I'm not going to lie, that image most of the time was your body above mine while I held my hand to your throat, but for the sake of romance I guess I should probably tell you what it was every other time— the outfit you were wearing the first time we met.

When I think of you, I think of your hand nervously clutching that beer bottle for dear life and the other one occasionally pushing your glasses up your nose. I think of your eyes every time they'd look away from me, probably to keep yourself from staring too long.

But the thing that always gets me the most is your smile— even when it comes in little flashes, after you've said something you probably thought was lame. You covered it up with that perfect smile.

I've dreamt of that smile nearly every night since I met you, and I wouldn't be opposed to seeing it in person again.

I'd love to meet you for dinner some time.

But since you did manage to "more or less abandon me twice now", I think it's only fair that you make it up to me first.

Make the next letter a good one, and we'll see what happens.

Yours, Y/N

P.S. I hope my handwriting is as pretty as you hoped. I'd hate to disappoint.

***

Y/N,

I'm incredibly grateful that you've given me a chance to redeem myself. Every night since I last saw you has also been spent wondering what your house looks like on the inside... What you looked like reading my letter (perhaps at your kitchen table?)

And this might sound silly, but I've also wondered what your bedroom looks like. You may be laughing at me, because I've been in your bedroom, but in my defense I was a bit preoccupied to really take notice of my surroundings— I was simply surrounded by you.

But since I've been to your home, I figured it was only fair that I invite you to mine, possibly for dinner. I don't know how to cook much— in fact I'm pretty awful at making anything that's not a can of Spaghetti-Os... But one of my co-workers is an excellent chef, and with a recipe from him and some practice under my belt, I'm sure I can pull it off.

But by "some" practice, I mean probably weeks or months of practice. So hopefully that gives you ample time to mull it over.

Perhaps in the meantime we can get to know each other through our letters. And who's to say, it might spare us the awkward "getting to know each other" stage of a first date. Though, pretty much every stage of every date is awkward for me, so it might not help at all.

Regardless, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again.

I do get called away for work quite often, however. So I apologize in advance if I can't get back to you as soon as I'd like.

But in any instance, you're still welcome to text message or call me. I know it isn't as romantic or personal as handwritten letters, but it's certainly practical.

Yours, Spencer.

P.S. Your handwriting is just as beautiful as I'd imagined it would be. And you could never disappoint me.

That being said, if you somehow decide that this letter wasn't up to your standards and reject my offer, I may just find myself in the deepest despair imaginable.

***

I was definitely way too in my head about this.

It was just a text. Sure, it was a risky text to send, but I had no doubt in my mind that it would be fine in the end.

So why was my stomach churning just thinking about sending it?

Some might have chalked it up to my fat ol' crush on Spencer, but I knew it ran deeper. It had to do at least a little with my history with Patrick... The man stood me up and sent divorce papers to my place of work rather than to my face... And as much as I liked to think I was completely over it, we'd been together for years, and it really did a number on me.

I didn't want to ruin this new thing with Spencer so badly that I was overthinking everything.

So even though I could see his face opening the text, my heart doing jumps at the mere thought of it, a bigger part of me worried that it would be a step too far in the wrong direction. I didn't want him to think I was only in this for... sexual reasons. Which, don't get me wrong, have been pretty damn great so far, but I really did want to get to know him and see where this went.

In the end I decided to hold off. I settled for something a little lighter.

Spencer,

Don't feel too bad about your cooking skills. I've been through my fair share of burnt frozen pizzas to know how you're feeling. So the fact that you've given yourself the opportunity to practice and learn a recipe just for me is extremely romantic, and I appreciate the thought.

I won't stop you from following through, though I'm telling you now that no amount of slaving away in the kitchen will make me change my mind about you. We could probably eat stale crackers on the floor and I'd still find you utterly fascinating.

Maybe that's a bit too extreme, but I hope you get my point.

Anyway, I'd love to come over for dinner some time. Whenever you think you're ready to show me those improved cooking skills, you just let me know and I'll happily make my way over.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of sending more with my letters. I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that I'm very crafty. And don't feel like you need to send anything in return, though I'll let you know if I ever change my mind.

Yours,

Y/N

***

In the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to her signature, was a red lipstick stain in the shape of... well, her lips. It was common sense to know that they were hers and no one else's, not just a stamp or a drawing, and rather her actual lip stain... But even without it, I would have been able to tell by their shape.

Was that pathetic?

I could hear her, picture her in front of me, hovering above me with red-painted lips in the shape of a smirk, visibly cooing as she called me names... I could feel the ghost of her fingertips trailing up my throat and tilting my chin up to look at her as she rocked her hips teasingly into mine...

The whine I let out truly was pathetic.

You pathetic, needy little thing, I could hear her say...

My hands clutched the paper so tightly I thought I'd tear it, but it didn't matter when all I could see while staring at it was her luscious, red lips... Her voice was right there in my ear, like she was really beside me, watching me...

Oh, God, what would she do if she saw me right now? Staring at her lipstick stained paper and subconsciously grinding down into my chair...

You pathetic, needy little thing...

My hips jolted with a small, broken shout of her name, and in no time the front of my pants were flooded with warmth. I felt her eyes burning into me from the void, sparking to life with amusement as her voice crept into the deep corners of my brain and whispered praises to me.

Ohh, what a good little whore... Getting off to the thought of me... That's it, sweet boy... Come for me...

By now my eyes had squeezed shut and the letter was crumpled in my hand, the other reaching down to add much-appreciated burning friction to my crotch as I rode out my orgasm. My whole body tensed and shuddered at every sensation, from Y/N's image behind my eyes to the sweet warmth that pooled in my underwear and soaked through onto my hand.

Holy mother of—

The next time I saw her, I was screwed. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. I'd surely go red the second I laid eyes on her, and she'd know right away what I was thinking and feeling.

Simply put, it scared and excited me at the same time.

She'd utterly and thoroughly wrecked me, and if she didn't already know it, she certainly would soon.

Y/N,

I'm not sure what you intend to send in addition to your letters, but if it's anything near the sentiment of your lip stain, then you might have to refrain in favor of my poor, fragile heart.

See, it aches for you. It's bad enough I think of you always, but the moment I saw the shape of your lips on that letter, my heart almost shot straight out of my chest. Maybe it was the familiar shape of your lips or the implications of its place next to your name, signed after the word 'yours', that sent me into a tailspin, but whatever the case...

I'm pretty sure I've completely fallen under your spell.

I suppose I should also tell you that my heart wasn't the only part of my body that came to life at your added signature. I assure you, it took no time at all for me to come undone at the thought of your lips pressing gently against the paper, imagining that they were instead pressing to my skin... I didn't even have to touch myself, really. It just happened. Because of you and you alone.

I hope that wasn't too forward, but I felt it necessary that you know just how much of an effect you have on me.

If I could see you again in a millisecond, it wouldn't be soon enough.

That being said, I am determined to spend as much time as possible to perfect this dish for our dinner. Because you deserve nothing but the best, even if you insist that you could settle for less.

It's the least I can do.

Yours, Spencer.

And a week and a half later, when I didn't get a letter back on time, I was sure I'd messed up for good.

My mind was racing a mile a minute, yelling at myself for even thinking for a second of being that detailed in a letter without any consent. Sure, she'd taken it a step up by signing off her letter with a kiss, but I'd been absolutely idiotic in telling her that I got off to it.

I was honestly well and truly prepared to show up at her house with a big bouquet of flowers and an apology so wordy and probably too long for anyone's liking, in hopes that she'd forgive me for making this huge mistake.

Thankfully, though, it wasn't needed.

My phone chimed as I was pacing, my lip near bloody with how hard I'd been chewing at it, and I saw an unknown number attached to a text message and photo attachment.

The photo wouldn't load (I would have to plug it into my laptop and transfer the image there to see it— a fact which always irked Penelope to the core), but with the sentences I saw above the file, I almost knew exactly what I'd find when I had the means to see it.

There. Now we're even... Who says text messages can't be romantic and personal? XXX, Y/N

I felt like Bambi as I scrambled to my laptop three rooms over, stumbling over weak legs with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. My heart raced faster than it ever had as I started everything up and retrieved the right cord for my phone. With a few shakes and stumbles here and there, I briefly entertained the idea of upgrading my phone.

I probably would have left the apartment to do it immediately after seeing her photo attachment, but the moment it loaded up on my screen, my brain and body lost all ability to function properly.

A familiar burn coursed through the lower half of my body and tightened my chest at the sight of her, open and exposed and... wet.

My laptop screen was completely taken over by the image of Y/N's pussy, visibly glistening and aroused. A manicured hand—her hand— was in frame as well, middle finger resting snugly between the supple skin of her wet lips.

The fact that I only tasted her once felt downright cruel.

I tried to imagine it again— my face buried between the softness of her thighs. As much as I wanted to lay her down and indulge myself as long as possible, taking all the time in the world to slowly devour her and truly explore her for myself, what ran through my mind then was something more in the vein of our dynamic thus far.

My mind wandered, specifically to a place where I was the one laying down as she sat down directly onto my face and gave me what she thought I deserved. My hands were tied to the bed, maybe handcuffed. All I knew was that I couldn't touch her, and it bothered me. So I whined, and every time the sound left my mouth, she would let up, lifting further out of reach and causing me to instinctively reach my head up to chase her.

You greedy little slut... Take what I give you...

Desperately seeking her approval, I told her I'd be good and rejoiced when she lowered herself down to me again, allowing me to me completely wrapped up in her once more. My tongue lapped and lapped, gathering as much of her as I could before she'd inevitably leave again.

But she never did.

Somehow I kept my quiet, even though it was extremely difficult, and ate her out like my life depended on it. She glided smoothly over my face, coating more than just my lips in her arousal, and it thrilled me to my very core.

Every time I breathed in I could smell her, every time she groaned out my name my stomach fluttered, and it wasn't long before she was clutching my hair, shaking above me while I drank her in and repressed my whines.

My hips were uncontrollable though, bucking up into nothing and begging for any type of stimulation.

But then suddenly it was there— Her hand, firmly wrapping around my dick and gliding over it beautifully with a slickness that she must have transferred from her pussy. I could still taste her as I cried out her name, her movements quickening with every second until—

I didn't even realize I was actually alone until my eyes opened, cum coating my hand, my heartbeat heavy and loud, and the laptop screen in front of me a shade darker signaling a long period of inactivity.

I'd done it again...

And now we most certainly were not even.

I glanced over at my phone—plugged into the laptop—and then down at my lap, and my stomach knotted as my next move rang clear as day.

***

I woke up the next morning to texts from Spencer, and my heart picked up speed, a gentle warmth blooming through my chest at the sight.

I thought maybe he'd thank me for the photo I'd sent. Maybe he'd return it with an influx of messages along the lines of Oh my god, Holy fuck I miss you, and the like.

But what I wasn't expecting was to see a photo in return, of his hand that I'd dreamt of nearly nightly, wrapped firmly around his cock and all of it completely covered in cum.

Below the photo were three messages in a row, and each one gave me more butterflies than the last.

Sorry for low quality. No smartphone.

Also sorry we're not even anymore.

But I'm not sorry I did it- you're too perfect to resist.

***

Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you haven't gotten a letter from me in a while. And I know we've kept in touch through texting and calling while I was swamped at work, though now that I have some time off, I'd love to write you again. As much as I enjoy our virtual conversations, I still find sending letters to be my preferred method of communication (only second to speaking with you in person, that is).

Which brings me to the main point I'm trying to make.

I want to see you again. In person. I'm not completely confident in my cooking ability yet, but if you wouldn't mind the potential of it tasting awful, I'd love to have you over. I promise you nothing but the best, and I know that's a high promise, especially considering I probably haven't sold you on the meal, but it's true.

I'd do anything to please you.

And I really do mean 'anything', I hope you understand that.

Yours, Spencer.

***

The thought of seeing him in person again after so long made my hands way shakier than I would have liked. It made no sense the longer I thought about it, because it was obvious that we liked each other, and seeing each other in person wouldn't be a problem. Because it'd never been a problem before.

It irked me.

Still, I knocked on his door and physically shook out my hands, praying I could keep my cool when he finally opened the door.

But I should have known better.

One second I was staring at a large plank of wood, and the next I was staring into frantic eyes, golden and sparkling just as I remembered, but with an added glimmer of fear that matched the shakiness of my hands.

I don't know how long we stood there, just staring at each other, but the longer we did, the more we relaxed. His fear was gone, and the shaking in my hands turned into a dull hum that longed to reach out for him.

Still, I refrained, settling on a simple, "Hey, pen pal..."

By the way he looked at me, silent as ever, I started to wonder if that was a stupid thing to lead with. So I opened my mouth to apologize, to say anything else, but he beat me to it.

"Y/N... I... H—Hi, you look... incredible."

"O—Oh, thanks... Thank you, yeah, I um... figured I should... dress up a little. I know we're not going out anywhere, but I thought it might be nice."

He doesn't need to know that, Y/N, stop talking!

I gave him a small smile and a nervous laugh in an attempt to stop myself, hating how I was so nervous around him.

Spencer didn't seem to mind, though. He let me in and closed the door behind me as I quickly glanced around his apartment. It was littered with greens and browns, books everywhere, and I'd never felt more at home.

"Is it, uh... What you expected?"

"Hmm?" I turned to meet him, his soft voice pulling me from my wandering eyes.

"My apartment."

"Oh! Yeah, it's very you... I love it."

The compliment had his cheeks turning pink, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than kiss them over and over again.

And just like that, once again we were caught just staring at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, and honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. All I knew in that moment was that Spencer Reid was standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I wanted to give in.

I was so wrapped up in the idea of feeling him that I almost didn't hear him speak. I wouldn't have heard him at all had it not been for his lips moving.

"I'm sorry, I haven't started dinner yet..."

"That's okay," I reassured. Or, at least I tried to. Really, though, I think it sounded more like I was uninterested in what he was saying, my voice flat and lifeless as I continued to stare at him.

Suddenly we were closer, and I had to look up higher to see his face, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the way he looked down at me.

"You're sure?"

"Mhm."

"I can start it now if you're getting hungry."

Food isn't what I'm hungry for, is what I thought. I almost said it, too, because he was even closer now, his hands coming out to touch mine. If they were humming before, they were certainly blaring with life now, growing hot under his light touch. And it took everything I had not to look down, because it had been too damn long since I'd seen his hands in person, and I wanted them on me immediately.

He could tell, too. He could sense my urgency, feel the longing radiating off my presence, and I knew this because I could feel his, too. His eyes practically dared me to say what I was thinking, and so I did.

"Don't you dare."

It was hard to tell who moved in first, but it really didn't matter.

I was here, in his apartment, feeling his lips glide over mine with reckless abandon, and that's all that mattered.

His hands gripped my waist so tightly I would have thought he was trying to hold me in place, to make sure I wasn't ever going to leave his sight again. And if that was the case, I would have let him hold me there forever.

My hands, meanwhile, clutched at his hair, forcing myself closer and closer to him with every sharp tug. I reveled in the way he whined into my mouth with every little thing I did, whether it was a tug of the hair or a roll forward of the hips, or even a swipe of my tongue over his.

He was putty in my hands yet again, and just like every time before, it turned me into a fucking goner.

Being with Spencer wasn't like anything I'd ever known. And the only other thing I'd known was Patrick. He didn't want me, not really, and even though he was good to me in the beginning, it was never like this.

I didn't come over to his apartment with shaking hands. I didn't send him fucking love letters almost weekly, and I certainly didn't get kissed like this...

Spencer was drunk on me, and I wasn't any sober myself.

"That picture you sent me..." I mumbled over his lips, still keeping myself as close as I could while I got out what I needed to say. "Where did you take that?"

We kissed for a few more seconds, unable to stay apart, before he answered, his voice just as breathy and brimming with desperation as mine. "My office. Just down the hall."

I kissed him again, hard, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes. They widened when I said, "Show me."

He dragged me through the apartment on rushed legs, and I almost laughed at the urgency, only stopped by the realization that I was just as urgent. It occurred to me that perhaps my laughing at his urgency might just be a slight turn on for him, given our history with my playful degradation, but still I pulled back— Tonight felt... different.

It didn't feel like we were headed in the direction of me calling him my dirty little whore throughout the night, and it was something I was more than okay with. In fact, I welcomed it, excited to see where this new night would take us.

We ended up in his office, which remained more or less the same aesthetic as the rest of his place. In the middle sat a small desk with a laptop and some papers scattered about on it, accompanied by a tall floor lamp and a rolling desk chair.

"Where were you exactly?" I mused, gripping his hand tightly and buzzing at the way his fingers flexed against my own.

"In the chair... I pulled the photo up on my laptop."

"Right. No smartphone."

Spencer hummed in confirmation before dragging me along to the chair, and I fucking giggled as he plopped down and practically pulled me right on top of him, the chair rolling back a foot or two. I went down for a bright, messy kiss that ended with his hands clutching my ass over my skirt and my own cradling his face.

His growing bulge nudged right up into my inner thigh, and I groaned lightly in his mouth, my fingers dragging softly down his jaw and neck until I reached his shoulders.

"What were you thinking about?"

He raised his eyebrow, and I rocked my hips forward with a sly grin, hoping to get my point across. "When you were looking at my picture, in this very chair, what were you thinking about?"

Seeing his eyelids stutter and his tongue dart out at my movements sent a rush through me, and I moved my hips once more to emphasize my urgency.

"I... I thought about you... riding my face. You tied my hands..."

"Oh?" I sighed, rocking forward again and humming into his neck. "Well, that can definitely be arranged if you want it bad enough..."

"Please, Y/N, yes... Please..."

The need dripping from every syllable made it near impossible to breathe, and I was suddenly very inclined to give him everything he wanted. With or without the begging.

So I reluctantly peeled away from him and stood up on weak legs. Staring at Spencer as he sat there, leaning back in the chair with disheveled hair and obvious desire in his eyes, made it all the better when I took my panties off from under my skirt and motioned for him to come forward. "On your knees?"

I would have demanded it in any other situation, but I was feeling a bit more sweet this time around.

And he seemed grateful for it, sliding the chair back further and getting down in front of me. I reached out and played with his hair, trying my hardest to commit his beautiful face to memory. I wanted it burned there for the rest of time.

"Hands?"

Spencer offered his hands to me, and I hummed happily, doing my best to tie his hands together with a makeshift knot from my panties. It wasn't really tight or secure, but it was enough for him to whine as he set them in his lap.

He watched intently as I dropped my skirt—a bit redundant now, but I thought it'd be a nice way to get him more excited. Plus I wanted to see his face (or at lease what I could see of it while it was buried between my legs).

I stepped forward then, looking down at him with a smile while my hands reached out to comb through his hair. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

The look in his eyes right before I came forward and hovered over his face almost made my come on the spot.

But as fun as that would have been, I was glad for the way my body held off and settled for a beautiful, burning increase of pleasure that dragged out the longer he swiped his tongue through my folds. Actually, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving, riding his face like he'd thought about.

I willed my eyes open and clutched Spencer's soft locks of hair beneath me, gently rolling my hips and grinding down further on his face.  The groan he let out not only felt good against my skin, but it sounded like pure bliss, eliciting a small whimper of my own as I tightened my grip in his hair and rocked faster.

"God, I missed having your mouth on me, baby... You're... so good..."

The longer I spoke the more breathless I became, not because the words didn't come easily, but because I truly believed them to be true.

Spencer really was so fucking good, his tongue the most delicate, divine object of the universe as it drew out every ounce of delight from my body. I may have been the one above him, calling the shots and directing him where and how to please me, but he was the one who clung to my soul like static and politely guided me towards damnation.

I wasn't even sure of my surroundings to tell you the truth. As my body tensed and took me through one of the most blinding pleasures I'd experienced in weeks, My eyes were squeezed so tightly it's like I saw the universe. All I knew was Spencer's lips sucking my clit and my hands deeply rooted in his hair as I shouted incoherently, stars swirling around behind my eyelids.

Truly, for all I knew, we could have been in space. It wouldn't have made any difference.

But eventually it came to be too much. I was reaching a limit I didn't want to get to so quickly, and so I flashed my eyes open and tried to adjust to this brand new atmosphere, unweaving my fingers through pretty brown waves of hair and stepping back to assess the situation.

What I found was the most beautiful man I'd ever known, panting like he'd just ran a marathon and yet harboring the most intense joy and desire a person could hold. He was on his knees, bound hands writhing in his lap as he awaited further instruction and licked up as much of myself on his face as he could before I stopped him.

Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to absolutely ruin him. That adoring, desperate look in his eye would have spurred me to more devious endeavors, but all I wanted in this moment was to make sure he was satisfied. I wanted to take care of him, to let him know that I longed to make him feel as worshipped and adored as he'd made me feel.

I got down to Spencer's level, quickly removing the fabric from his wrists and hauling him to his feet, where he now towered over me, still waiting for words to address and instruct him.

Instead, I leaned up with soft hands upon his cheeks and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that changed the tone entirely. It was erotic still, of course, what with my arousal infiltrating my taste buds and eliciting a soft sigh from the both of us, but our urgency manifested in sweeter ways... Softer lips, gentle touches of the face, and an exchanging of breath that was so smooth and seamless it felt like we were floating on air.

I was finding it hard to breathe again, but it wasn't an issue in the slightest. In fact, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than right there, kissing Spencer Reid like we had all the time in the world.

When the breathlessness was a little too much to bear, we pulled away, though only leaving just enough space to breathe. Our lips stayed briefly connected while we caught up, and his hands found their way to the sides of my face. The way they practically engulfed my whole head brought a brief smile to my lips as I finally gave him the words he was looking for.

"I'm so glad I met you," I whispered.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

We kissed each other again, naturally and with so much ease that I wondered how I had ever lived without him.

And then, as my hands slid gently down his chest, I felt it.

Something that felt very much like a ring attached to a necklace sat right where his heartbeat resided, and I knew exactly which ring it was.

"W—" I pulled back and circled the shape of it with my finger through the shirt, then looked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Spencer looked briefly panicked, pulling away a little and fishing down the front of his shirt for the chain. "Oh... Um, yeah. I, um... I forgot to take it off, I'm sorry. I..."

"You... kept it?"

I observed the diamond as it laid flat on my palm, still attached to the chain and around his neck. Honestly, after all this time I figured he'd never found it or gotten rid of it, seeing as he never brought it up. And yet there it was, glittering in the palm of my hand as my other one presses firmly against Spencer's rapidly beating heart.

"Y—Yeah... It um... It was really the only physical thing I had to remember you—Well, at least until we started sending letters... And I guess I just... W—Wearing it has become such a habit that I forgot to take it off."

"You never take it off?"

I could tell he was nervous, and rightfully so given I wasn't really letting on how I was feeling about the whole thing.

Still, he answered my short question in such a small whisper I'd have thought he was trying not to get in trouble.

"No."

"Why?"

My words certainly weren't helping ease his anxieties, so I remained close, dropping the ring and focusing rather on his eyes. I softened the look in my own and glided my hands down to hold his. His fingers flexed against mine, squeezing them for dear life as he sighed out in relief and flashed me a soft smile.

"Because... I wanted you close to my heart."

With a smile that mirrored his eyes, full of enchantment and pure adoration for the person in front of me, I didn't use my brain and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, consequences be damned.

"I think I might love you..."

Spencer squeezed my hands tighter, that relief spreading out to all his features and brightening that beautiful smile.

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing."

Our lips met once more, and I swear it was like nothing bad was ever going to happen for the rest of time.

I'd never felt that way. Not once with Patrick did my heart feel settled into place, even during the great parts of our relationship.

And now here I was, with a man who sent me love letters and kept every physical reminder of my existence, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and slowly mended my wounded heart.

He held me close the whole way to his bedroom and never let me go until the morning. Though, even then his arms outstretched towards me and his fingers flexed, needing to grab onto any part of me that he could find.

And as I was sure I always would, I welcomed him with open arms.

***

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[seriouslysnape]

Hopeless Romantic

__

Lucius Malfoy x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Implications of sex, Language.

Word Count: 1,634

“I see you found one of my messages.”

__

Even Lucius would admit, he wasn’t very in touch with his romantic side. The love language of Lucius Malfoy was physical touch, have no doubt about that. He felt that if his hands were on you, then he was displaying his care and adoration in the only way he knew how. However, after spending more and more time with you, he learned that there were other ways to show his affection.

Words of affirmation were definitely one that stunned him. You were always telling him how you were proud of him and how you admired him. At first, he tried to ignore the way his heart did a little leap whenever you spoke to him this way. It made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, which wasn’t always normal for him. He’d find himself going back to those moments, smiling off into space at how it made him feel. 

Lucius had never been a “flowers on Valentine’s Day” kind of guy. His hands being on your body or his fingers running through your hair or even just brushing by you when he walked by was his way of showing his love. While that was always great and appreciated, he just didn’t understand yet that you needed more than that. 

You had mentioned it a time or two before that you needed to hear his love for you and see it. Lucius became rather irritated, thinking that you were just being overly clingy and ungrateful. Lucius was a VERY proud man, and it was rare for him to ever doubt the way he did things. If you weren’t satisfied with him, then that was a you problem in his eyes. 

While it was incredibly frustrating that he never showed his devotion any other way, you understood that Lucius didn’t know how to. Over time, you were able to identify that his lingering touches and passionate kisses were his way. So, you accepted it and moved on.

Despite this, Lucius began to notice something new. You had accompanied him at a dinner party of sorts, enjoying the company of others and taking that much deserved social time. Lucius had been standing with you, his hand on the small of your back when he caught the conversation you had been having with one of the guests. She was telling you about how her husband had started writing her love notes, and leaving them around the house for her to find later.

Lucius almost audibly scoffed at the thought of such a cheesy idea, but he stopped himself when he saw the way your eyes brightened in a not-so subtle way. You gushed and gawked with your friend for the next ten minutes, going on and on about how romantic that was. Lucius was surprised that you had such a reaction to the idea, and he suddenly began to see just what you had been talking about. 

He spent the rest of the evening thinking about it, wondering if he could pull off the same exact thing. He was confident at first, because how hard could it be to put his love into words? He didn’t realize just how challenging it would be until he had been sitting at his large desk for almost thirty minutes, quill in hand, and the paper completely blank. He was surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper that had been discarded, none of them proving to be successful drafts.

He couldn’t think of a solitary thing to say, or even how to say it. It seemed that his penmanship skills were less than perfect. He was growing more and more aggravated with each passing moment. This shouldn’t be this hard. He was crazy about you, so why couldn’t he string together a damn sentence?

He tossed his quill back onto the desk, ready to give in to defeat. He sighed harshly, his eyes roaming over his previous attempts that were scattered in front of him. His gaze wandered to a gold-framed photograph that he kept at the front of his desk. He picked it up, letting out a soft chuckle as he remembered the day it was taken. 

It was a rather candid picture, which was much different than any of his other images of you, but it was his favorite. It was a bit of a secret hobby of Lucius Malfoy, but he had a glimmer of interest in photography. You were often the subject of his pictures, sometimes they were fully staged and sometimes not. He might take pictures of you just cuddled up next to him on the sofa, or sometimes he’d have you model for him to take more sultry, provocative pictures (that he kept stashed away in a locked drawer in his desk for his sole viewing pleasure).

He glanced over the finer details of the framed picture. The way you looked so glowy and gorgeous. Your eyes sparkled a little more and your skin looked heavenly. His mind wandered to how he loved to touch you as a reminder that you were there with him. How he cherished the way you snuggled up next to him when you were cold or wanted attention. Before he knew it, he was thinking about all the things he loved about you. Exactly the things he wanted to put into words.

He quickly picked his quill back up before he lost his stroke of genius. He wrote like a madman, writing one to three sentences on each piece of parchment before moving on to the next one. He used a lot of the things that you said to him on a daily basis to help him along. He was on a roll after a few minutes, pushing out at least five or six little notes to leave around the house. He planted them in various places, and considering his residence was massive, he had plenty of spaces.

He was proud of himself, but hoping that you would find them endearing. He wasn’t home when you found the first two. The first had been stashed into the novel you were currently reading, falling onto your lap when you opened the book. You raised a brow at the parchment that you identified as Lucius’ personalized stationery. You opened the folded note, reading it so many times because you were sure that you were dreaming.

[Y/N],

Your heart is as pure as the words written on these pages. I love you for being my greatest story.

Lucius.

You were totally shocked. Surely, this wasn’t YOUR Lucius that had written this? The same Lucius Malfoy that sneered at anything even remotely commercially romantic? This was a textbook definition, straight out of a romantic Muggle movie that he would never be caught dead watching. You were filled with joy, an amazing feeling of care rushing over you. It was a wonderful surprise, one that you would keep close to you. 

While the first one was a shocker, the second one was three times that. An hour or so later, you entered the bathroom to take a shower when you caught a glimpse of the small piece of parchment tucked into the corner of the mirror. You plucked it into your grasp, a blinding smile appearing on your face.

My love, 

I hope you find this with a smile on your face, the same one that I have undoubtedly fallen in love with. I love you for being the light of my life.

Lucius.

This one caused tears to prick at your eyes. You were overwhelmed with emotions. You had watched Lucius become “soft” over the years and watched him comply with your needs. Seeing HIS handwriting, writing THESE words that he put together was a gorgeous thing. You wiped away at the happy tears streaming your face when you heard someone enter the connecting bedroom. Sure enough, the man in question appeared in the doorway. A grin appeared on his face when he saw you holding the note.

“I see you found one of my messages.” Lucius said, approaching you at the bathroom counter. 

“I’ve found two...how many are there?” You asked, even more gleeful that you might have more to find.

He hummed thoughtfully.

“Quite a few,” He admitted, snaking an arm around your waist. His smile disappeared when he saw the faint tracks of tears on your cheeks; “Have you been crying, darling?”

He swiped at your damp cheeks, a soft giggle escaping your lips.

“Yeah, but happy tears. I wasn’t expecting this at all, Luc.” You confessed, resting your hands on the collar of his shirt.

He felt his heart melt. He never knew how something so simple would touch you like this. You deserved to feel worshipped and appreciated, and if this was the way he needed to do it, then so be it. 

“I meant everything I said. I do love you. Even if I don’t always say it.” He said, holding your face in his hand.

“I love you, Lucius. I’m proud of you.” You said. 

Oh, there it was. His favorite words of encouragement. He smiled again, listening as you carried on.

“Even if you don’t say it a lot, you always show me,” You said in a seductive tone; “And, oh, do you show it well.” 

His smile faded into more of a smirk. His first instinct to pick you up and place you on the counter, stepping between your legs and leaving hot kisses on your neck. Before he progressed further, he stopped.

“Wait, don’t you want to find the rest of them?” He asked, figuring you’d rather do that instead.

You shrugged. While you did totally want to, you could spare a few minutes for this. You kissed him in response, replying before making sweet love with him.

“Yeah, but I want you more.”

[roll-da-credits]

Scenario: Putting Make-Up on Nekoma Boys

Characters: Kozume Kenma, Lev Haiba, Alisa Haiba cause I love her sm omfg

A/n: This was HEAVILY inspired by my desire to look feminine the way guys are just because of a tiktok video. Small warning (?) I literally do not know how to describe doing Lev’s make up, because it just looks so fucking complicated. (also can you imagine how pretty timeskip Lev would look with that makeup look??? Just god, chef’s kiss dude).  Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy my first scenario thing.

Inspo; Kenma’s, Lev’s, Alisa’s

🖤❤️🖤

Kozume Kenma

You knew putting on make-up on your boyfriend wasn’t going to be that difficult. He’s used to sitting on a chair hours on end, being unbothered by anything around him. Getting him to agree to doing it was the difficult part. This mission all started when you as Kenma’s lover got tagged repeatedly in a video where a girl was begging you to do make up on him, to complete the femboy look. Since he already wore a skirt for a tiktok trend once.

After much planning and looking for the perfect time you finally convinced him to put it as a reward for a charity stream he was doing. If the donations got to 100k he would let you put on make up on him.

“I still think this is a bad idea.” He chuckled setting up his stream. You, who was laying on his bed watching him mischievously grinned, “Why not??? 100K is a lot of money, I doubt people would donate that much.”

Oh how wrong you were. Within the first hour the donation already double that number and Kenma could only glare at you for convincing him to do it. You burst in laughter when he looked at you desperately wanting the stream to be over already. “Fine, just don’t put a full face on me.” 

You laughed and introduced yourself to the stream before going to put on his make up. You had decided to do a tiktok look where the guys are feminine the way boys are. By defining his cheekbones, giving him slightly bushier brows, deepening his eyes, and finally a bit of eyeliner. His stream went wild.

Everyone, excluding him, seems to be enjoying the entire process and the end result. His fans even begun donating more and requesting other make up looks to you.

“Babe look, someone want me to use bold colors on you. Can I do it?”

“No.”

You laughed every time he would immediately say no at your request, but you didn’t miss the slight blush that crept to his face every single time. You had a slight hunch that he actually enjoyed being dolled up. A mental reminder made it’s way to your mind to ask him after the stream if he wanted to do it more often. 

You were almost 100% sure he’d say yes. 

“Right take it off.” You ignored him and went back to your position in the background. “Y/n I swear.”

“What you don’t think I did a good job?” You decided to teased him much further. He groaned and turned his chair to face you. “I love you, I really do, but please take it off.”

Giggling, you strode to him and gave him a light peck on his forehead. 

“You look incredible, anyways, don’t you have games to play on your stream? Just take it off after.”

You walked back to the bed with a smug grin feeling like you’d won, until, “200k and I’m forcing them to go against me in any game 1v1. It’ll be funny watching them rage and get embarrassed at how bad they are. ” 

The donation bar was at 190K.

Lev Haiba

Lev was very used to using make up, not full on full faced make up but more of a touch up. He was a model after all. But his make up looks were always to make his already beautiful natural face shine even more. It was never editorial or over the top and you desperately wanted to change that.

“Babe?” You called him when he got home after working. He hummed in reply. “Would you let me put on make up on you?”

Immediately, he jumped over to your side with the biggest smile in his face, he looked like a energetic puppy. “So, yes?” You looked at him with an amused grin. In which he replied to your question nodding enthusiastically. 

Because he came home earlier than he usually do, you decided to do the make up on him right at that moment. That and because he followed you around like a lost puppy for 5 minutes straight whilst you were doing other chores, very expectant about the pretty make up you were going to put on him.

You decided to pick a bright blue eyeshadow that would not only match his dark navy suit he was wearing for a photoshoot, but also his beautiful eyes. After hours of working you were pleasantly surprised that Lev stayed still. Or at least still enough for you to work without a mess. 

He still talked here and there. Not to mention how he would sometimes look at you dead in the eyes with the most love stricken gaze. It flustered you, yet you were determined to finish the look. 

Once you were finally finished, you brought the mirror close to him and he exploded with joy. “Baby you did incredible!!! How did you do this?!?!” he didn’t stop complimenting you or admiring your work, even as you were setting up some lighting for some photos. Because even you had thought it looked too amazing to not be photographed. 

After taking some pics which was easier due to his modelling skills, you had to physically drag him to the bathroom to wash all of it off. He complained and whined to you but you still forced him to clean it, afraid he would get acne if he kept it overnight.

The next day at work though, you got a message from Lev. 

‘CONGRATS!!! You’re my new make up artist now, I won’t take no for an answer  😁’

You spammed him repeatedly asking him what he meant by that but he just left you on read.

Alisa Haiba

You already knew your girlfriend, Alisa Haiba, was a rather hopeless romantic. But you’d never expected it would’ve placed you, her lover, in this kind of situation. Currently you were in front of an already dressed Alisa ready for her shoot and you were expected to put on make up on her. 

“Love, this is too much pressure.” You looked at the array of make up tools Alisa had set up for you in a nervous wreck.

“I know you’re good at make up!! I just wanted to show your skills off to my team!” She smiled rather expectantly at you. 

With eyes like an excited kitten ready to play you couldn’t refuse. 

See it all started when you were experimenting with your own make up. Trying to do random editorial looks and so on. What you didn’t account for was your peeping girlfriend in the door frame watching your every move with sparkles in her eyes.

Her mind raced with the possibilities of the both of you working together in a set, her as your model. To her it seemed like a dream come true and a way to satisfy her imaginative mind when it came to romance. Though, you being in the situation right now, you couldn’t help but feel anxious at the eager gazes of everyone in the room. 

From the make up artists working on the other models, to the photographer. Everyone was waiting for you to make the first move, they wanted to see what Alisa’s chatter was about when she recommended you for a high end brand modeling job.

“Remind me what the theme was again?” You gulped nervously as you started racking your brain for ideas. “Angelic.” She answered.

Finally exhaling the breath you’ve been holding, you picked up a brush and began to work on her eyes. You had seen her looks in all of her modeling gigs, they used a lot of light blue to contrast with her beautiful platinum hair and bright blue eyes. So, you wanted to do something different.

Something that would most likely impress the people around you and hopefully not bring down Alisa’s reputation for recommending you. 

After you were done, you held your breath once more and stepped aside to let Alisa look at the mirror. Shockingly she squealed and jumped to crush you in a hug.

“It’s so pretty!!!” That exact moment you could feel the tension in the entire room drop immediately. 

Everyone was rather impressed by your skills and especially Alisa who begged you to be her MUA for the rest of her career. Which you declined with a wry smile, you didn’t think you could handle the crushing pressure that the stares of everyone in the room would bring every single time. 

[freckledoriya]

For fluff friday, maybe a confession of feelings to Izuku? 🥺

shout out to @dompubliczn for this one 💕

I…. really like you.

You type the words on your phone. Biting your lip, you press send.

Your phone dings and lights up seconds after.

I really like you too!

His enthusiastic response takes you back a bit. That’s… it? He likes you back? Could it really be that someone as wonderful as him shares similar feelings for you? That’s fantastic, that’s incredible that’s… too good to be true.

Unless you meant in a romantic way?

You stare at the new message and your heart drops. You feel the world around you stop. Of course you meant romantically. You had fallen so, so hard for Izuku Midoriya. It came fast and without warning. Suddenly, he was all you could think about, all you could dream about. Talking to him was the highlight of all your days. You could no longer imagine a reality without him in your life. It was so much, so fast. One day you were fine and comfortable in your life, knowing your place. And the next, it was all turned upside down. What was wrong felt right, and what was right felt wrong.

I… uh… don’t know? you respond, trying to save face.

But you knew. You knew all too well how you felt.

Your phone lights up again.

Oh... because... I’m attracted to you romantically too.

It was like being on a roller coaster of emotions. You went from feeling hopeless, already planning how you were going to get over this heartbreak, to soaring in the air, breathless with delight. You are almost too exhilarated to notice your phone ding once again.

Sorry!! I was just testing the waters to see how you felt.

You let out a laugh and sigh. It was going to be okay. No, it was going to be more than okay. It was going to be amazing.

it’s fluff friday!

[mooniefics]

— in the grand scheme of things [ 1 ]

pairings : zeke jaeger / reader, referenced eren jaeger / reader

word count : 8.4k

tags : unhealthy relationships, relationship discussions, implied cheating, drinking, break ups, eventual smut, praise kink, mutual infidelity, dubious morality, love triangles

warnings : contains nsfw, sexual coercion, intoxicated reader, rlly toxic behavior

summary : you and eren hadn't been doing the best these past few months, and no one that you knew seemed to have any answers for you, or pointers in the right direction. who better to offer you some sound, insightful relationship advice than his older brother. or so you thought.

note : i apologize if the text convoformatting is a little yucky, i pinky promise it looked wayy better on ao3 (//▽//)

— originally posted 1 / 20 / 21 on ao3 —

you would reluctantly admit that you and eren had been experiencing a few issues as of recently.

it was the run-of-the-mill turbulence: ignored texts and phone calls, unexplained hostility, hanging around with your shared group of friends—more his than yours—without you. you'd been able to ignore it around midterms, being so busy with studying and getting all your family affairs in order for the end of the year that you didn't have much time to worry about how he hadn't bothered to respond to your "happy new year, baby!!!" message you'd sent days ago.

but winter break came and went with no reply from him, you spent christmas and new years in the company of your parents, who couldn't seem to keep quiet about asking about "that jaeger boy". you couldn't really blame them for their questions, you'd been friends for nearly four years now, in a relationship since the night of senior prom, even followed each other to the same university with a few other high school friends just to stay close. the summer that preceded your first year of college was so full of love and life, celebrating your newfound freedom that you had always thought would come with adulthood. but you supposed that it was just the hopeless romantic in you talking, it was called the honeymoon phase for a reason.

consulting his best friends about his sudden detachedness yielded nothing—mikasa had never held much besides poorly hidden disdain for you, and all armin had to offer was nervous glances over to the uninterested girl as he assured you that he was probably stressed about his classes, or had another disagreement with his mother about his choice of major, just excuse after excuse for his friend's behavior. you were feeling desperate. you had little desire to break things off, to throw away nine months of commitment despite how your relationship had soured. you were in love with him, and he hadn't explicitly expressed that he wanted to end things, just left you out of the loop for a bit, nothing that couldn't be fixed with a nice long conversation over dinner, right?

but how could you reach him if he wouldn't answer your calls, if his friends only seemed to want to placate you rather than actively help, you felt like there was nobody to turn to—except him.

zeke, the ever-elusive older brother. you'd met him upon one of your first visits to eren's house, a brief, somewhat awkward exchange when you'd ventured into the kitchen by yourself to grab a few things for your friends in the living room. he'd startled you when you turned out of the pantry to find him standing by the fridge, eyeing you and your armful of chip bags curiously, only wearing a pair of thin-framed glasses and grey sweatpants, revealing the sculpted expanse of his muscular arms and torso, an unopened can of beer in his hand.

"you one of eren's friends?" he'd asked, cracking open the tab and taking a generous gulp.

you replied with a quick nod, adding a sheepish "yup..! everyone else is in the living room, i'm on snack duty" with a shaky smile.

he chuckled, shaking his head and running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. "typical eren. 'm zeke, good to meet you."

he didn't bother to ask your name before he disappeared into the adjacent hallway, the distant sound of a shutting door finally letting you release the breath you didn't know you'd been holding. that was how a majority of your exchanges went over the last few years, the longest conversations you'd had was when he'd offered to help you on your physics homework more than a couple times, his number was only in your phone because of the one time you'd worn the teeshirt of a band he happened to like and he wanted to send you a playlist. there were plenty of things you didn't know about him, but he was eren's older brother—half-brother, if you wanted to get technical—and after seeing the deflective nature of his closest friends, zeke seemed to be your next best option.

so now you were here, nervously standing at the door to his new apartment, dressed nicely so you didn't risk making a bad impression after not having seen him all these months. he seemed sympathetic over the phone when you'd called him last night, not minding how you'd contacted him out of the blue or that it was only for the sake of asking something of him, inviting you to discuss things more thoroughly over dinner. you didn't know whether he'd extended a helping hand for his brother's sake or your own, but you would be grateful no matter what if he gave some sound advice and a few words of reassurance.

you were startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the lock unlatching, the door swinging open to reveal zeke, smartly dressed in a pair of dark jeans and dress shirt, the top few buttons left undone. "sorry if i kept you waiting," he said, stepping aside to allow you in, "dinner's just about ready."

"no worries." you replied quickly as you slipped off your heels, hoping the heat warming your face wasn't flushing visibly on your cheeks.

he had always been a good-looking guy, an effortless sort of attractiveness that was only magnified by the relaxed yet perceptive air he carried. but he'd changed since that day you first met—his shaggy hair had been trimmed back into a shorter, more manageable style, the usual scruff of facial hair had grown out into a well-maintained beard, frames that similarly complimented his handsome features perched on the bridge of his nose. flashing a polite smile, you stepped into the apartment, trying not to let your anxiety get the better of you as the door was shut and locked behind you.

"nice place." you mused, peering about at the spacious, well-decorated interior as you followed beside him.

"thanks, honestly i'm glad i could find someone that was willing to split the rent," you felt nerves stir in the pit of your stomach, the thought of having to meet the other tenant leaving you feeling a bit uneasy. he turned down to glance at you, grey eyes glinting as he offered you an easy grin, "you don't have to worry about my roommate, i kicked him out for the night so you didn't feel uncomfortable."

you were sure the blush on your face was evident now, biting at the inside of your cheek as you both entered into the kitchen. "oh.. thank you. sorry if i caused any trouble, i know this was kind of last minute."

"no worries." he echoed your earlier sentiment, motioning you to the table just beside the kitchen before he returned to the skillet on the stove. the warm scent of coriander and turmeric filled the air as he lifted the lid and set it aside on the counter, stirring the simmering contents within. "hope you like curry," he said over his shoulder, turning down the gas on the stove and opening up the cabinet beside him to pull out the plates, "i didn't make it too spicy, just in case."

"i don't really eat it too often, but it smells amazing."

you felt yourself starting to relax into the chair, shedding your jacket and hanging your purse on the side of the chair as you watched him scoop a generous portion of white rice onto each plate. it was just you two here, he was willing to help, and you were incredibly grateful for his hospitality.

you pulled your phone out of your pocket to fiddle with while he was still plating the food, aimlessly tapping through your apps to kill some time. your text to eren from a few days ago still read "delivered", and you felt a slight twinge prick in your chest as you closed out of your messages, opting to scroll through your feed on one of the few social medias your friends had convinced you to download. it was relatively safe to look there, seeing as eren didn't post all that often, if at all, but seeing everyone your age, people that you knew from your classes posing with their boyfriends and girlfriends and going out on excursions with their peers made you feel jealous. you couldn't have imagined what you had done to deserve such a shitty situation.

your thoughts were interrupted by the dull clink of the plate being set before you, the clatter of silverware following as he rounded over to the opposite side of the table to place his things down. you switched your phone on silent just in case, tucking it back into your purse and sitting up a bit straighter in your chair. but instead of sitting down, he wandered back over to the kitchen, reaching up into a different cabinet to fetch two glasses.

"i'm assuming talking about your relationship troubles isn't the easiest, so pick your poison. i've got gin, tequila, beer—" he listed off the myriad of drinks he had at his disposal, pausing to throw you a glance. "but i honestly pegged you as a vodka kind of girl."

you felt a nervous giggle bubble up in your chest, fingers twisting in your lap, feeling more than juvenile as you replied. "i'm still under twenty-one, so i'm not really much of a drinker.."

"come on, you're in college now," he said, pulling a bottle of vodka from one of the lower cabinets and stepping over to the fridge, "most of the people hosting parties don't give much of a shit whether you're of legal drinking age or not, and i've got a feeling that you really don't either. i know i got shit-faced plenty of times during my freshman year."

you mentally debated the principles of accepting, he was right in saying that you had attended plenty of parties where you drank with your friends, suppressing a grimace at the memories of you throwing up in a stranger's bathroom while an equally drunk historia or sasha held your hair back. but those times you'd been looking to get wasted, drinking in this context would just be for the sake of loosening up, easing the sting of ripping off the metaphorical bandaid that was the thought of your relationship slowly crumbling right before your eyes.

"you're right," you relented, much to his delight, "and, yes, i guess i am a vodka kind of girl."

you didn't appreciate how charming the grin your words garnered was, fixing your eyes on the steaming plate of chicken curry in front of you before you could embarrass yourself. you were here to figure out how to smooth things over with your boyfriend, not oogle at his unnecessarily attractive older brother.

"here, something simple to start you off." he set down the glass on your place mat, finally taking his seat across the table, "there's plenty of ginger beer and limes in the fridge, and plenty of vodka still left."

you stole a glance at his drink. "whiskey, on the rocks.. how refined."

he gave a low chuckle at your sarcasm, taking a slow sip. "it's an acquired taste, i wouldn't expect someone your age to appreciate it." that was right, he was older than you, significantly older than you. just because you were legally an adult didn't mean your life experience could crop up to zeke's.

"old man." you murmured, a small smile perking up at both of your lips as you spooned some of the curry and rice into your mouth, "wow, thi' i' really gu'!" you managed to speak around the mouthful of food, grey eyes watching you intently with an obvious bemusement from across the table.

"i'm glad you like it. guess those years working at a couple restaurants around town weren't a complete waste." he said, tasting his own bite of the food, "cumin's a little off, hope you can forgive me for that."

"are you kidding me? this exceeds restaurant quality. i can barely put eggs in a pan without burning the kitchen down."

you were nearly a quarter through your plate already, setting your utensil down to take a sip of the drink he'd made for you. it was simple, bubbly, a nice mix of ginger, vodka, and lime to cool off your tongue. you could barely taste the alcohol, which somewhat eased your worries of becoming a drunken mess that required him to babysit you for the rest of the night.

you were both silent for a moment, the air occupied with the scrape of spoons and quiet sips from your respective glasses, and you were beginning to dread ruining such an easy mood with the topic of your emotional turmoil. but zeke beat you to the punch, clearing his throat as he settled his gaze onto you.

"so, you and my brother. you wanted to talk about that, right?"

you allowed yourself to frown a bit, taking a generous sip of your drink before you answered. "yeah. i don't really know where to start.."

"when did you first start noticing problems?"

you felt somewhat eased by his calm tone, bright grey eyes that were entirely focused on you, wordlessly reassuring you that you could trust him with this. you'd come this far, there was no point in trying to back out now.

"well, i guess it was around november." you began, scraping all of the food left onto one side of your plate to keep your hands occupied, "we'd all met up for halloween, me and eren and mikasa and armin—" you prattled off the other names of your friends, even some that you weren't sure he knew from your high school days, but he nodded along all the same. "and we all had an amazing time. got all dressed up, wandered around campus and crashed in on the frat parties, drank ourselves stupid, like you said. and at one point i just completely lost track of eren, and i didn't see him or anyone else besides sasha, connie, and mina for the rest of the night. after that, he kind of dropped off the face of the earth, wouldn't pick up my calls or answer my texts, always told me he was busy when we ran into each other on campus, and he wasn't at his dorm most of the time i came to try and check on him."

by the end, you'd finished off your drink, zeke wordlessly getting up to grab everything to pour you a new one without you asking. you were more flustered at his attentiveness, forcing yourself to chalk it up to him being an excellent host as he returned with a freshly opened can of ginger beer, pouring it over the ice in your glass and adding at least two shots of vodka, finishing it off with half a lime before returning to his seat. had he put that much alcohol the last time?

the thought slipped your mind as he swallowed a few spoonfuls of curry and spoke. "hmm.. so everything was going just fine, and then all of a sudden radio silence?"

you nodded, working on your remainder of rice, watching his face take on a pensive expression.

"if i'm being honest, eren has always been a little shithead." you suppressed a giggle at that. "he's rude, he's immature, and most of all, he's a terrible liar."

"mhm, the ears are a dead giveaway." you added, earning a grin over the rim of his glass.

"exactly. my stepmom— his mom always called him on his shit with that." you shared a moment of laughter at that, the memory of how defensive he would get over in when you'd first pointed it out making you feel a distant nostalgia creeping in the back of your mind.

you remembered how easy the days where all you had to worry about was catching up on all your late work and forcing yourself to learn about nintendo games for the sake of impressing your crush. now on top of school, you had bills and parties and shitty professors and an even shittier situation with your first long-term relationship that had started off so well yet devolved into feeling like you were a million miles away despite living on the same campus.

"so, eren is a shithead. and a terrible liar. go on." you took a long sip of your drink, unable to distinguish the warmth of the alcohol from the warmth of the curry in your stomach.

"well, he's just— how do i say this..." zeke murmured the last bit more to himself than you, pushing up his glasses on his nose and scratching the back of his neck, "he doesn't know a good thing when he sees it." you felt your heart skip at that. "like that mikasa girl, her and eren have been friends since grade school, and never once in all those years has eren ever acknowledged the way she's fuckin' head over heels for him." the mention of mikasa made you feel a sharp pang echo through your chest, suddenly feeling much more disheartened than before, especially at the mention of her perpetual affinity for him.

"but, i do have to give the kid some props," he continued, taking a sip of his whiskey, "at least he had enough of a brain to realize that you're a real catch. if i'm being honest, you're out of his league, and when you first started dating, he knew that."

you couldn't tell if your face was feeling hot because of his words or the fact that you'd just finished off your second drink in one long gulp, already reaching for the unopened ginger beer and vodka. blinking away the glassiness starting to settle over your vision, you met his gaze, suddenly feeling much smaller before him. he waited until you'd finished refilling your drink before he began again, not saying anything about how you'd accidentally poured much more vodka than you meant to.

"i think eren's problem is that he's getting too cocky," your appetite was starting to disappear as you focused on his words, still trying to finish what was left on the plate, "doesn't know his ass from his elbow, but he still thinks he's got everything figured out. you know what i mean, right?"

you nodded with an affirmative hum, a series of incidents that made you want to rip the boy's head off flashing through your mind only added credence to his claim. your tongue was starting heavy in your mouth, movements sluggish as you washed away what was left of dinner with more of your drink. you hadn't been truly drunk in months, not since that halloween party, only indulging in the occasional mimosa over breakfast with your family and your celebratory champagne for new years.

you hoped the heaviness weighing at your lids didn't show on your face, or that your words didn't string together when you replied. "i know exactly what you mean, can't imagine how hard that was to deal with for the last nineteen years."

he chuckled, finishing off his whiskey. "i've saved that kid's ass more time than i could ever care to count. being the older brother is a thankless fuckin' job if i've ever seen one. you done with dinner?"

"yeah. thank you again, it was amazing."

he grinned at your praise, rising from his seat as he spoke. "here, table's kind of crowded, we can move to the couch. i'll take care of dishes later. you want a refill?"

"sure." you responded before you could really think about your answer, trying to subtly steady yourself on the table as you got to your feet, head already starting to spin.

blinking away the blurriness fuzzing at the edges of your vision, you wandered past him through the kitchen and into the adjacent living room, falling into the cushions of the couch before you could trip up over your own feet. you felt embarrassed by your lack of tolerance, but felt some of that tension ebb away when he made his way over to sit next to you, fresh glass of ginger beer and vodka in hand. you didn't expect to feel the warmth of his thigh pressing into yours when he settled down, placing your drink on the coffee table before he turned down to speak to you.

"alright, i haven't said much in the way of advice, so here's what i think."

you grimaced internally, reaching over with an unsteady hand to grab your glass and take a long sip to brace yourself for his thoughts. you weren't expecting that it would be an easy pill to swallow, he'd probably be realistic about things and tell you to just suck it up and break things off while you could still maintain a shred of dignity.

"i know this is probably not what you want to hear, but i really think you should break up with him."

your lips pressed into a thin line, partly from his assertion but mostly because of the burn of alcohol sliding down your throat. there was definitely much more vodka in this than there should be, but you didn't want to seem weak before him, trying not to shudder as you continued to take small, fast sips.

you nearly spat it up on yourself when his hand settled on the skin of your thigh exposed by your skirt, wide eyes raising to meet his intent gaze. "don't tell me you think a guy that ditches you for just about three months now is worth your time, even without everything else considered."

"everythin' else?" your words were starting to slur together, but you still tried to drown out the dread tangling in your gut with the bubbling contents of the glass.

"you haven't figured it out yet, have you.." he faltered, a slight frown drawing across his lips when you gave a hesitant shake of your head, sighing as he pulled his glasses off of his nose and folded them neatly to place on the coffee table. "think about it; he disappears on you while he was drunk at a party, most likely with hanging around alone with the female friend that's clung onto him for a majority of his life, and then after that night he just completely gives you the cold shoulder, avoids you every time you try and come talk to him, like he's running away from you." he paused, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "like he's hiding something."

you felt your heart sink, biting firmly down on your bottom lip, a thick lump forming in your throat, eyes stinging. "s-so, you're saying th-that—"

you couldn't blink away the first tears as they dribbled down your cheeks, choking back a small sob. he carefully took the nearly empty glass from your hands and replaced it on the coffee table, you could make out the expression of pity drawn across his handsome features through your watery gaze. you didn't protest when the arm closest to you moved to wrap around your waist, the other curling around your shoulder and drawing you against him. restrained sniffles gave way to hiccuped sobs, your own hands linking around his neck and squeezing him tighter against you as you wept out into the empty air behind him.

normally you would've put on a brave face, maybe excused yourself to the bathroom to let out a few silent tears before you returned to thank him and stammer out some excuse to leave and spend the rest of the night wallowing on your own. but the alcohol had melted away any barriers you would've put up against zeke's compassion, made you crave the security his warmth provided as he pressed his face into your shoulder, a large, gentle hand rising to stroke over the crown of your head. he let you cry on your own for a while, not minding how your fingers clutched tightly at his shirt or how your snot and tears wet the pale fabric, petting your hair and rubbing soothingly over your shuddering back.

your adjacent thighs were nearly overlapping each other, but all you could think of was how your hammering heart felt like it was one beat away from bursting at the seams, the dim glow of the lamp in the corner that blurred into a shapeless ball of light, his steady breath fanning across the skin of your neck.

"that asshole doesn't deserve you." he murmured, voice low as his lips ghosted over your shoulder, strong arms fastening their hold around you.

you couldn't help but shudder at the feeling as you sniffed, swallowing down the tension balling in your throat before you managed a shaky reply. "h-he's your brother, i thought you'd b-be on his side.."

"what makes you think i'd be on his side after hearing how he treated you?" his fingers worked their way deeper into your hair, palm cradling the back of your head. you forced yourself not to squirm when his face nestled further into the crook of your neck. "you deserve someone mature, someone who can treat you right.. someone who can make you feel good..."

you let out an alarmed breath at the feeling of a soft kiss over your skin, then another, posture stiffening as your grasp around his neck slackened. "wait, i c-can't," you started, the sudden sensation of his fingers sinking into your waist and drawing you closer against him making you lose your words for a moment, "i haven' officially broken up with eren, just because he might've ch-cheated on me doesn't mean-"

"there's no use trying to deny what he did.. what's done is done, you need to do what's best for you—right here, right now." his voice lowered even further, barely a whisper as he implored, "what do you want to do?"

you bit back a weak sound when his tongue drew a slow lick over the sensitive skin, the involuntary heat stirring between your legs making your thighs clench. this was wrong, you shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be letting this happen, an endless stream of muddled thoughts flashed through your mind as you desperately searched for some sort of excuse to buy yourself a few more moments to think. a distant memory popped into your head, the blurry mental image of zeke with his arm draped around a dark-haired woman when you'd dropped by to visit eren just before you'd both moved in on campus.

"g-girlfriend!! don't you have a girlfriend?!" you blurted desperately, a small whimper slipping out of you as he gave a brief suck over your pulse.

"girlfriend?" he paused his motions, chuckling lowly and giving a small shake of his head when he realized who you were thinking of, "oh, pieck? i'd hardly call her a girlfriend, just an old buddy. honestly, it's no wonder you got stuck in this sort of situation, you manage to find an excuse for everything."

you couldn't ruminate on his patronizing tone for longer than a moment before he returned to kissing at the sensitive skin of your neck, testing the waters of your resilience. you were afraid of your responsiveness to his touch, your body's unabashed honesty, afraid of how your protests had devolved into uncertain whimpers and shifts in your seat.

"good girl," he murmured, sending a jolt of heat racing up your spine, "see how easy that was? this is what you want, isn't it?"

you allowed the fingers in your hair to gently tug your head back, exposing more skin to his eager mouth as he teased a bite just under your jaw, drawing a soft whine and an even deeper flush of heat over your cheeks from you. your movements were sluggish, limbs leadened with inebriation falling down easily when he urged you down onto your back. in one slow blink he'd settled on top of you, warm lips melded easily against your own as his fingers began to work at unbuttoning your blouse.

maybe he was right, maybe you just needed to accept that you and eren's time had come to pass and indulge in what you really wanted—and now that he'd made it an option, what you really wanted right now was to feel the warmth of his bare flesh on yours, taste more of the whiskey on his breath as his tongue slid between your teeth, replace every hint of eren that still resided on your skin with his scent of expensive cologne. you could already feel the ache of a forming bruise at the base of your neck, fingers messily tangling in his hair and back arching up to his hands when they began to smooth across your chest, snaking under your body to undo the clasp of your bra.

"you never told me what exactly you wanted, baby.." he murmured over your lips, low-lidded eyes meeting yours, "do you want us to just kiss, or do you want me to touch you?"

"touch me, please.." you mumbled restlessly, quickly becoming impatient with the fact that his hands had halted after slipping the straps of your bra free from your arms and tossing it somewhere behind him to be forgotten.

but even after you answered, he didn't continue, a smug smirk tugging at his lips as he gazed down at you. "and then what after that? do you want me to touch you here? his fingers ghosted over the swell of your breasts. "or here?" one hand trailed down the length of your abdomen, forefinger just barely hooking onto the waistline of your skirt and giving it a teasing tug.

"zeke." you whined in frustration, mind foggy with lust and alcohol, uncoordinated hands wrestling with his shirt despite not having undone the buttons first, "you're being mean.."

"sorry," he said without a hint of remorse in his voice, only pride as he returned his hands to your chest, "you're just too easy to tease, so responsive, i'd never get bored of playing with you."

you took it as a compliment, as praise, rather than what it really was. it was easier to think of it like flattery in the moment, to push the obvious reminder that his brother had gotten bored of you out of your mind. despite the implication of such a statement, you couldn't help the odd sense of safety you found in such an equivocal intimacy, hazy, not sound of mind, not entirely yourself as you offered him your body, his to kiss and grab and bruise if only for the night.

you hummed with approval when his lips trailed down to the valley of your chest, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your breasts, but making a point to avoid your nipples, only further denying you the stimulation that you thought he'd finally assured you with that last arrogant taunt. you could feel his smile on your skin, nearly huffing at the realization that you couldn't squeeze your thighs together to give yourself some friction with him positioned between them like he was, buzzing with warmth yet entirely unfulfilled.

"patience is a virtue.." he murmured sagely, unfazed by your second sound of annoyance.

"what about trying to fuck your brother's girlfriend is virtuous." you bit back, momentary anger leaving you in a surprised pant as he gave a gentle tug to one of your nipples.

"ex-girlfriend." he corrected after a quiet chuckle at your forthrightness, mouth closing around the pert bud not being rolled between his slender fingers.

you moaned out a soft curse, hand threading back into his thick hair and pressing him further against you. the fog that had been momentarily sobered clouding your senses once more, hips rutting up into nothing as he worshipped your skin with his lips, teeth, and tongue. you felt the spark fully reignite when one hand moved back down your stomach to wrestle with the button of your skirt, the zipper sliding down easily after it was undone, fingers delving under the loosened waistline to palm at you through your underwear. he pulled away from your nipple with one last gentle bite over the tender skin, low voice at a husky mutter.

"have you ever had sex before?"

you quickly nodded down at him, seeing your own dazed stare reflected in his darkened eyes, pupils almost entirely overtaking the cool grey.

"was it with him?"

you swallowed thickly, suddenly finding yourself unable to meet his gaze, turning away to focus on your long finished drink on the coffee table, ice already half melted in the sweating glass. "yes." you barely whispered.

"was it good?"

you bit the inside of your cheek, blinking fast, trying to dispel the blanket of unease that was quickly settling over you, suffocating you. you only answered with a non-committal shrug, feeling your face burn with a humiliation that he couldn't have thought such a line of questioning would have not inspired.

he maintained a steady gaze with you for a moment longer, lowering his head back to rest at your shoulder without another word and picking a place on your neck to bite and lick at, fingers rubbing slow circles over the drenched fabric beneath them. a small moan bubbled up in your chest, squirming at just the easy attention over your clit, lids falling shut as your head sank back into the cushioned arm of the sofa.

you sighed out a small whimper of relief when he finally tugged your underwear to the side, fingers instantly slicking with your arousal when they met your bare skin, sliding in with little resistance. he'd started out with just two, but the incessant desire to be filled was quelled for the moment with them, drawing a pathetic mewl out of you when they curled just right within you.

"are you always this excited?"

another question you didn't know the honest answer to, but you shook your head anyways, accompanying it with a weak "n-no" to stroke his ego like you knew he wanted you to. you went stiff with a sudden tension when felt a third finger prodding at your pussy, eyes flying back open as you made a disconcerted sound of protest.

"relax.." he murmured into your shoulder, biting softly over one of the fresher marks, "if you can't handle this, how can you take me?"

you took a shaky breath, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you let your thighs fall open a bit more, doing your best to not clench your muscles. and you could feel how he let out a low groan over your skin when he finally slipped in all three, burying them knuckle-deep, rewarding you with a smattering of open-mouthed kisses across your bruised flesh.

"good girl. good girl." he nipped at your jaw, adjusting the speed of his wrist to match how your hips rolled up to meet his hand, the pad of his thumb rolling firmly over your clit.

you could feel that warm knot in your stomach tangling further, the tantalizing thought of release ebbing every bit of trepidation out of you as you allowed your moans and whines to spill out into the open air, heels digging into the felt of the couch around him. but just moments before you could find your high, his touch gone, and he was rising off of you to sit back on his calves, absentmindedly wiping the wetness from his fingers away on his pants, making quick work of his shirt, standing briefly to kick off his pants and help you out of your displaced bottoms before he settled back over you.

your skin was hot with need against his own, arm linking around his sturdy back and pressing his lips back over yours, letting him guide one leg up against his side as he lined himself up with you. you squeaked when you felt the tip of his cock press into you, hands bracing themselves on his shoulders, wide, unfocused eyes gazing up at him for some sort of reassurance. and that sense of security filled your heaving chest, that knowing look he focused solely on you, only made for you in this moment, forehead pressed to yours, breath fanning over your lips.

a strained, shuddering whine broke from your throat as he eased himself inside of you, inch by inch, barely able to hold your eyes open enough to maintain his fixed stare, mouth falling open in a feeble attempt to gasp back in all the air he'd pushed out of you.

"fuck." he growled lowly, fingers sinking almost painfully into the thigh in his grasp, trying to fit his body as close as it could possibly be to your own.

another sound rumbled out of him from deep in his chest when your nails dug into the firm muscle beneath them, hungry, greedy lips capturing yours. his pace was mercifully slow, given that he was probably just as eager for his own release as you were for yours, but the overwhelming fullness that you felt each time his hips met yours drove whatever tiny breath you'd been able to catch between his kisses.

you spread your legs as far as the narrow space of the couch allowed it, whimpering, feeling how you were already making a dripping mess of your thighs and the fabric beneath you. your heart was practically beating out of your chest, so loud in your ears that you wouldn't be surprised if he could hear it too, his mouth catching every pant and moan he drew from you, the steady pace of his movements falling away into an ardent, frenzied rhythm. his mouth strayed back to your neck, grunting and biting into the abused flesh, and without the barrier to muffle your sounds you were whining out into the open space of the apartment, gasping in the air humid with your shared arousal, nails scratching down his back without care for whether they'd leave a mark, only dragging them back across his hot skin over and over again just to hear him groan out your name once more.

you could feel yourself climbing back up towards that delightful precipice, legs wrapping around his body and forcing him deeper into you so he could reach that spot that made white stars burst across the darkness of your close-lidded eyes. you tried to force your mouth to form coherent words, to warn him about how dangerously close you were, but all that spilled from your lips was more breathless sounds, body arching up to press against his as heat scalded over every inch of your bare skin, limbs shuddering and clinging desperately to him as he continued to roughly thrust into you.

tears were pricking at your eyes by the time he moaned a jumbled string of curses into your neck, arms nearly giving out beneath him as he spilled himself inside of you, your chests heaving in an unmatched, ragged unity against each other. he stayed there for a few moments, still inside you, struggling to catch his breath but still pressing the occasional kiss over your neck and shoulders. your fingers released their grasp on him, not realizing how hard you'd been clenching your hands until you felt the stiff ache resonating through your joints.

you tried to murmur something to him, but all that escaped was a weak whimper, legs slipping back down to lay on the couch, arms resting heavy on his back. you hadn't meant to fall asleep so fast, but your head had already been spinning from warm shocks still echoing through every fiber of your body, let alone the alcohol and the sheer physical exertion. you let your eyes fall shut, lids far too heavy to keep open, and slipped away easily into a dreamless slumber.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

zeke blindly reached about for the towel he'd set aside near the sink, finally grabbing it and pressing it to his dripping face, patting his skin and beard dry before tossing it into the hamper by the door. replacing his glasses onto his face, he blinked away the grogginess in his eyes, running his fingers through his hair to flatten it into a somewhat presentable style. he turned to the open door, catching a glimpse of you nestled under the comforter of his bed, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

he'd carried you to his room last night, but didn't get the chance to clean you up until this morning. by then, the bruises that had been an angry shade of red over your neck and chest had settled into your skin and darkened significantly, some bordered by deeper teethmarks that still had yet to fade. you hadn't stirred when he'd pulled the covers away from you for just a few moments, peeling off your underwear that he'd haphazardly replaced on your body to keep the mess to a minimum and gently wiping his cum away from your skin with a wet washcloth. he'd really tired you out, and something about seeing you so exhausted after just one night with him made a flicker of pride swell in his chest.

flicking off the light in the bathroom, he didn't bother to add a shirt over his relaxed attire of just a pair of sweatpants as he left his bedroom, making sure to quietly shut the door behind him.

"rise and shine." his back was still to the kitchen when he heard reiner's voice, turning to face his roommate who was looking at him with a mix of disapproval and curiosity, most likely having gotten a good look at the scratches you left down his skin last night.

"how was your time at bertholdt's?" zeke asked, ignoring reiner's frown as he glossed over his intrigue, wandering over to the fridge to grab some water for himself.

"not great." he grunted, reaching into the cabinet below the stove and fetching a pan, "he decided to invite annie over when he heard i was coming. you can imagine how boring it was to watch those two make eyes at each other the entire night."

zeke chuckled at that, cracking the top off of the cool bottle in his hands and taking a refreshing gulp, glancing at the table and noticing its lack of plates and the leftovers of night-old curry. "oh, you did the dishes. thanks."

"yeah, yeah, just glad you had your fun last night without me having to hear it." he stepped aside to let reiner put a carton of eggs and the butter out of the fridge. "but seriously man? the couch? you're gonna have to get that dry-cleaned or something, and i'm not helping you pay for it either."

"don't worry about it, i'll take care of it." he replied with a lazy smile, quickly adding on to his smooth response, "and be nice, alright? it's someone we know."

"who?" he asked, not at all looking it but obviously interested in his answer, flicking on the gas under the pan and dumping a spoonful of butter into it.

"one of eren's friends." reiner's eyes shot briefly over to him at that, prompting him to give a brief description of you, "remember? you saw her that time we all met up to watch that horror marathon while i still lived with my parents."

"wait.. you told me about her. isn't she dating your brother??"

"was dating my brother." he corrected, rolling his eyes at the disgruntled bewilderment etched across his friends face, "what? i had to show her that this generation of jaegers wasn't a complete disappointment.."

"whatever, man. your business." he finished off his water bottle in silence, watching reiner crack a few eggs in a bowl and whisk them together with a fork, finally breaking the silence with a generous offer. "you want me to make something for her?"

a slight grin broke out across zeke's face, dumping the empty plastic into the recycling bin, slapping reiner's back affectionately. "thought you'd never ask. thanks again, man."

"at your service." was his grumbled, monotone reply, the shadows weighing under his eyes clearly showing how late he'd arrived home last night and how little sleep he'd gotten. zeke was sure that once he'd got some coffee in him he'd cheer up a bit.

he was sure reiner wouldn't be done for another few minutes, so he wandered back into his room, wondering if you'd woken up yet so he could direct you to the shower if you wanted one. in the time that he'd been in the kitchen, you shifted around in bed, having rolled onto your back and knocked the covers away to reveal your bruised chest, hair covering half of your face but still identifiable. perfect.

zeke fished his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants, unlocking it and tapping into the camera app, taking a few steps closer to the bed and zooming in a bit before he snapped a picture of you.

                  10:39 am  you you sent an image to eren

eren  10:40 am uhhh did you send that to the wrong person

eren  10:41 am wait hold on who is that zeke who the fuck is that

eren  10:42 am is that my fuckingngirlfrined

you missed a call from eren

eren  10:43 am why the fuck aren't you fuckign picking up

you missed a call from eren (2)

eren  10:45 am holy shit what the fuck this can't be fucking happening zeke what the fuck is wrong wjth you you piece of fucking shit

zeke tapped out of his messages with his brother, sliding over his notifications setting to "do not disturb" before dropping his phone back into his pocket. he couldn't help the low chuckle he let out at his frantic replies. maybe if he'd held the same enthusiasm with you then he wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. moving over to your side of the bed, he took a seat on the mattress beside you, perking up at the sound of your small groan, eyes sleepily fluttering open to gaze up at him.

"g'morning." you murmured, letting out a quiet yawn as you sat up in bed, holding the sheets up to cover your bare chest despite him having already seen you naked.

"how'd you sleep?"

"like a fucking rock." he laughed softly at your bluntness. "my head kinda hurts.. sorry i fell asleep on you last night."

you looked positively adorable right now, and he was glad you weren't panicking or having any second thoughts about him, that you had fully digested the reality of your situation and come to peace with it. well, at least the situation before he'd sent that picture to eren.

"don't worry about it," he assured you, keeping the thought of his brother probably blowing up his phone and leaving the usual voicemails of him screaming at him when he was angry in his inbox, "i'll get you some breakfast soon. need any ibuprofen?"

"yes please." you smiled gratefully up at him, his heart twinged. "and could you grab me my purse? i left it in the kitchen, my roommates probably wondering why i didn't come back last night."

he began to say yes, but thought of how you were probably receiving a similar slew of alarmed messages by this point made him stop. "how about a shower first? you'd probably feel a lot better after that."

you hummed thoughtfully for a few moments, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand. "a shower sounds nice.. if you don't mind."

"wouldn't have offered if i did, babe." he grinned at the way your cheeks flushed, waving a hand over to his bathroom door, "shower's in there, plenty of towels on the rack by the tub."

he stood, turning to begin making his way to the door to give you some privacy, but felt your fingers gingerly wrapped around your wrist. "zeke.. thank you. for everything. i've been in a really tough spot for the last few months, and now everything seems... it all seems a lot clearer to me, like i just took the hardest step and it'll be a breeze after this."

your smile was genuinely, infectious, eyes full of gratitude, and had it not been for the heavy news that you would most likely be finding out about within the hour, he probably would've responded with one of equal radiance. but he managed to perk up the corners of his lips for you, tracing back to press a quick kiss over the top of your head.

"at your service."

he was pleased to see that his copied, more charmingly delivered words garnered such a positive response from you. and so he made his way back out into the kitchen, pulling out his phone to briefly check the amount of notifications that had racked up on his lock screen. thirty-six messages and sixteen missed phone calls. damn was that little brat persistent.

despite having essentially thrown you under the bus, he didn't feel any semblance of guilt for the action of having sent that incriminating photograph. the only remorse he felt was for leaving you as the sole recipient to his brother's rage, and the fact that he was starting to feel a strange sort of affinity for you, something lighter and more innocuous than the lust that he had shown you the previous evening. so he slipped over to the dinner table, acknowledging reiner's announcement that your eggs were ready with a short hum, finding your purse exactly where you said it had been.

he could hear the sound of the shower being turned on, and he felt safe unzipping the small bag and rummaging around to fish your phone out from beneath your other belongings. as he'd expected, there were a few missed calls from a "sasha", who he assumed to be your roommate, the messages from "eren <3" quickly beginning to pile up on your home screen. and as the "incoming call" text showed on the screen and the phone began to vibrate, zeke held down on the power button, completely shutting it off before he pocketed the device.

he just had to keep you busy, get you to focus on anything besides your desire to get to your purse and check your phone, or figure out a polite way to quickly shoo you out of the door and get home before you realized that you didn't have it in your bag. he hadn't really planned for this outcome, he usually didn't have this sort of compassion for others when he set his mind to getting something done, but he had a feeling that the extra work would be worth it in the grand scheme of things.

⥼ next chapter

[marvelousell]

The Agreement (Part 1.)

Pairing(s): frat boy!fwb!Tom x reader, frat boy!Harrison x reader

Summary: Tom is a typical frat boy, his love for partying, drinks and girls are bigger than his ego. Y/N is a whole different dimension, she keeps her circle small, and even though she knows her best friend Tom is a total douche, she can’t say no to the little deal that was sealed between the two of them.

Word count: 2k

A/N: ahhhh so this is my first series that I’m posting here! I’ve went for the fwb!au but I will do a mob one soon too. It will be full of angst, smut, friendship, love, heartbreak, absolutely everything. I hope that you all will like it, and I would appreciate it if you comment, reblog or send a feedback!🥰

Also my tag list is open for the series!

Warnings: mentions of smut, swearing

It was a Friday night and that meant party all night.

Well not for you.

You weren’t a party girl. Sure you went here and there on some frat parties with your friends, but every Friday? Hell no.

The Friday nights were reserved for a book and a cup of tea.

You were a shy one, you kept your circle small. Tom, Harry, Anna and Amelia.

You were a big bookworm, and hopeless romantic. A great duo for sure.

Sometimes you felt like an ugly duckling. Amelia and Anna were gorgeous and appealing brunettes, just like other college girls, but with a great personality. They were a whole package if you asked me.

You would say that you were an average looking girl. Nothing to special.

You just wanted a guy that would love you for who you are on the inside, not outside.

Too much books, I know.

“Maybe it’s time to head to bed.” You said to yourself, after you caught yourself overthinking, again.

-

“Jesus Christ.” You sighed, the doorbell waking you up.

It was 20 minutes past midnight, and you were now worried who is at the door at this time.

“Again?” You groaned, rubbing your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I really needed a break.” Tom spoke, running his palm through his messy hair and massaging his scalp.

You motioned him to the living room, styling your hair that was sticking out everywhere, as much as possible.

“Great, I look like a zombie.” You murmured to yourself as you went to the couch where Tom was seated.

“Want anything to drink or something else?”

“Yeah…something strong?” He said, pushing his back flat on the couch.

“You know that I only have wine here.”

“It will do the job.”

-

“So..will you tell me what is tonight’s reason for your visit?” Your figure sat next to Tom’s, enjoying a late glass of wine as well.

“She saw me with Stassie today, so she went bonkers.”

Ah. Typical Tom.

Well let’s go back to the start shall we?

If you were honest, there was a lot, but still nothing to tell that wasn’t familiar to everyone.

Tom. Your typical frat boy.

Hot guy, astonishing body, soft curly brown hair followed with the dark brown eyes that had every girl drooling. His charming smile that he flashed to every single girl, covered up his conceited behaviour. Although he was a very charismatic person, he was a bit big-headed.

Did I say a bit? I meant a lot.

Parties were his scene. Tom loved the attention he got from the people almost immediately when he would enter the party place. Girls were basically throwing themselves on him, waiting for him to acknowledge them.

Tom was aware of the effect he had on the ladies, and he sure took advantage of that.

Every weekend there was a new one in his sheets.

He didn’t do feelings, some girls knew, some didn’t. So the morning after he would throw them out of his room half naked, all shattered and with the disgusting feeling that they were used.

He had a reputation, after all he was the most wanted boy out here, everyone’s dream was to become something to him.

Unfortunately no one had succeeded.

Did Tom say she a minute ago? Oh yes.

She was Sophie. And no, she wasn’t his girlfriend, but she sure didn’t think that way.

Sophie was your classic example of a girl that doesn’t understand the word no.

She was one of Tom’s flings, a beautiful, but fake girl. They got together at her 20th birthday party, it was just a one time drunk sex. Tom waited for her to feel asleep after a long session, so he could just go home and get at least a little amount of sleep.

However the next day at college, Sophie was like a limpet.

She didn’t let him breathe, even though Tom explained how he worked.

To be rejected or not interested in her was a unknown term for Sophie.

“Look, we shared a night, had sex and that’s all. It’s how I roll sweetie okay?” He desperately tried to get her off of his back.

“Tommy, I know how you do things, but you can’t lie about the chemistry. We just need to be together. And the sex is amazing.”

And that’s how it started.

Tom was loud and clear, not just with her, but with his friends and other ladies that she isn’t his girl, and never will be.

He really hoped that Sophie would let him be after a while, and she really did, but Tom just couldn’t keep it in his pants.

The Spring party.

Everyone got shit-faced, Tom was super turned on by a sweet brunette that clearly wasn’t interested in his lame flirting.

Sophie came in for a refill in the kitchen, but she was a godsend for Tom at that moment.

“Soph, sweetie mind if I get you a drink?”

“Thought you were clear about your feelings for me Tommy?” She answered, playing with the end of her dress.

“Yeah, yeah..How about I get you that drink, and we could catch up on things, ya know like old times?” He crossed his arms on purpose, flexing his biceps.

“I knew you would come back.” Sophie laughed, wrapping her slim arms around him.

It happened again. And Tom left like the last time, but once again Sophie didn’t get the message.

It became much more harder for him to avoid her, she was all over the place. She ruined his possible hookups, tried to meet his friends, brothers. It was getting on his last nerve, and even though he said that he doesn’t do relationships, she didn’t give up.

Sophie just wanted to be in the spotlight, and Tom was a great opportunity.

-

“Dear God. I told you that this lifestyle of yours would cost you. You should’ve refrain yourself for one night. Now you have a fake and crazy girl on your back, and no freedom as well.” You said, secretly eyeing him, he was hot you couldn’t lie.

“Thanks for not helping Y/N. Fucking hell I just want her to disappear, she is hundred percent crazy!”

“Why don’t you for once think rationally. Call her, take her for a coffee, tea whatever, sit down. Talk. Like normal people, tell her how things are, use your magic. But be nice and direct, she needs to get it in her head.” You tried your best to help him, after all he was your best friend and crush since preschool.

Stupid choice I know.

“I think so, but I wouldn’t be surprised that she spreads the news that I took her on a ‘date’, not a ‘can you please fuck off’ coffee.” Tom spoke clearly annoyed, filling up his empty glass.

He was tipsy already, and so were you. The wine absolutely did the job.

You were now nervous, your heart thumping against your ribs, the silence wasn’t an issue between the two of you, but tonight something was different.

“Why are you laughing?” You questioned, looking at Tom.

“Nothing darling, just remembered the day at elementary school.”

“Oh God. Which one?”

“You know, when you almost punched Elizabeth when she said I gave her a flower, and that I’m her best friend now.” He looked at you smiling like a child.

“Hey! You couldn’t blame me I loved you, you were my bestie I thought you betrayed me!” You stated, turning your body to his.

“Oh loved?” He grabbed his chest, trying to look hurt, but failing after a loud laugh escaped from his lips.

Your hand slapped his chest playfully, as an answer.

“This wine is crazy, I’m definitely going to consume it more.” He spoke.

“Well you for sure will if Sophie freaks out again.”

“New bottle?” You asked, standing up, your legs wobbly from the alcohol that was running in your system.

“Sure, it’s a long night after all.”

You tried to be as relaxed as you could be, but Tom’s presence tonight didn’t let you be.

Tom was also tense, the wine messed with his mind, he didn’t got laid for days, and the silky white shorts of yours didn’t help him at all.

You were in front of him, opening a bottle, but he just couldn’t control himself. His eyes were glued on your slim legs and tits.

He knew that under those hoodies that you wear on a daily basis was an incredible body.

Tom finded you attractive, absolutely stunning. He thought about you on his bed, whining for him, he really did wanted to have sex with you, but he couldn’t. You were his best friend and Tom didn’t want to hurt you.

But fucking hell. Tonight you were making him go nuts.

“I’m worn out.” You said exhaling the air.

“Live a little Y/N. Your nose is 24/7 in those books, give yourself a break, don’t be so boring.”

“Me boring? Oh excuse me that I don’t have such a dynamic life as yours.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hell yes you are, when was the last time you had sex?”

“What?!” Your cheeks were burning, and you couldn’t believe he asked you that. Sure you two had conversations about sex, but only about his sex life, and by that I mean who he slept with not how and where.

“You heard me, c’mon we’re friends you can tell me everything.”

Stupid Tom.

“Yes we are, but I would love to keep the informations about my sex life to myself.”

“So you’re a virgin?”

“TOM!” You almost chocked on the wine.

“Well?” He smirked, feeling how you got more and more shy from the conversation. God he wanted to fuck you so bad.

“No I’m not a virgin!”

“Then you can tell me when was the last time hm?”

“I don’t remember ok?! Jesus, the last time was probably the week before me and Noah broke up.” Your voice almost a whisper, realising that you were presumably too boring.

Tom just whistled the ‘wow that’s tooo long’ whistle, earning an annoying look from you.

“If it helps you I didn’t bang a girl for like a week, maybe more?” His answer turning into a question.

“Yeah, that helped me a lot, thanks Thomas.”

“Always here to help you.”

You once again slapped him playfully, but with the arm where your glass of wine was, spilling the beverage on his shirt and sweatpants.

Shit.

“Fuck, sorry! I’m drunk, I-shit.” Yes, you were absolutely drunk, because the sober Y/N wouldn’t try to dry Tom’s crotch with her hands.

Tom’s eyes opened widely. The feeling of your palm rubbing his now hard dick, speeded up his breathing.

Your knees were on the couch, and your body extremely close to his. You still didn’t have a clue what you were doing.

“If you’re gonna clean me up like this, I might spill some of this by myself darling.” He groaned, raising the glass in the air.

That was enough to send your mind to reality.

“OH GOD. I’m so sorry, oh my God this is so embarrassing right now.” You tried to sit back down, but Tom’s hands stopped you.

Before you could fall on the purple carpet in your living room, his grip brought you into his chest.

Your hands were on his thorax, his arms on your lower back.

“Shit, am I on his lap right now?! What the fuck is happening?” You thought inside your head. What a great situation to be in.

“You’re making me so hard now Y/N.”

You were speechless. This wasn’t happening.

“I think it’s a big shame that you don’t have any kind of relief after a long day.” He whispered in your ear, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo.

“Tom.” Your mind was hazy, you tried your best to resist this, but holy shit you wanted this since forever.

“How about I suggest something to you darling?”

[mariuspunsmercy]

woodvale: the 3-act musical anthology

So I've been doing a lot of listening to both folklore and evermore and my theatre-junkie brain has crafted 3 different storylines composed of the songs from each album that all overlap in one big story - Woodvale: The 3-Act Musical Anthology. It tells the story of various heartbreaks and healings in a small town - 'cause to me, that's what these albums boil down to.

A few other things:

Though each story seems self contained, I picture the characters from different stories to be somewhat linked, by blood, acquaintance (i.e Dorothea, Inez, James are siblings, Betty is Ada's daughter, etc.)

The acts don't necessarily happen in a consecutive linear fashion (i.e there singular Coney Island trip where everything from each act unfolds)

Though each story seems self contained, I picture the characters from different stories to be somewhat linked, by blood, acquaintance (i.e Dorothea, Inez, James are siblings, Betty is Ada's daughter, etc.)

The acts don't necessarily happen in a consecutive linear fashion (i.e there singular Coney Island trip where everything from each act unfolds)

I've linked the playlists for each to the act title! I'd love to hear feedback, criticism, interpretations and thoughts - I plan to flesh out characters, plot, and maybe dialogue as much as possible, and even hope to get to thinking of staging.

ACT I: that's the thing about illicit affairs

the last great american dynasty - Abigail Lark, the bold and free-spirited 30 year old granddaughter of local historical celebrity Rebecca Lark, introduces the tiny town of Woodvale and Rebekah's legacy there.

cowboy like me - After getting caught in the storm on the way from buying her long term husband, Henry, a birthday present, Ada Lawrence runs into the down-to-earth Monroe Jacob at the neighborhood tennis court and the two... Share A Moment.

tolerate it - Ada finally arrives home and, like usual, is not greeted by the absent-minded Henry -she contemplates how much she is truly being valued in this relationship.

ivy - Weeks pass and Monroe shows up to the Lawrence household ... because he's the gardener Henry hired to fix their backyard for the next few weeks, and while Henry is preoccupied, Ada accompanies him out to the woods and they find themselves entangled with each other, more or less.

the lakes - Monroe and Ada have been secretly seeing each other for quite a while now, and tell each other how much they want to run away from their unhappy marriages together.

hoax - Este, Monroe's wife of 3 years, wonders why her husband has not been as physically or emotionally present in her life as of lately, and begins to come to a heartbreaking conclusion.

invisible string - Some time passes, and Ada and Monroe's affair continues, and they are incredibly happy together. Ada especially is putting all her faith in this man and is willing to risk it all for him.

no body, no crime - Este tells her best friend Abigail about how she thinks Monroe is cheating on her. After Este mysteriously disappears and a mistress begins visiting Monroe's house more frequently, Abigail takes it upon herself to avenge Este's heartbreak and death.

epiphany - Ada mourns the unexpected loss of Monroe along with all the others she had suddenly lost in the past - it doesn't get any easier.

mad woman - Abigail reflects on the gravity and consequences of her unhinged crime, but tells herself that this type of strength and vengeance is what her "take-no-shit" grandmother Rebecca would have wanted.

illicit affairs - While they're both at Monroe's grave, Ada finally comes clean to Henry about the affair, coping with the anger, memories, loss, and questions of morality - while Henry is just shocked.

coney island - Months later. Henry and Ada take a trip to Coney Island, separately - it's a nostalgic place for the both of them. They contemplate the apologies they would've said to each other if given the chance, while Monroe and Este's ghost linger in the air between them.

ACT II: what a shame she's fucked in the head

dorothea - After seeing her face on a movie poster around town, Sylvia thinks about how much she misses her longtime childhood friend and on-again off-again-lover Dorothea, who moved out of Woodvale to pursue acting after they both graduated.

seven - Weeks later, it's a bright summer day on Coney Island and Sylvia and Dorothea both run into each other. Sylvia asks Dorothea to hang out with her and calls upon all the fond memories they once had together, and it's clear that she still has some feelings for her - but Dorothea does not seem to want a relationship at the moment.

'tis the damn season - MONTHS later, over winter break, Dorothea finds herself back home at Woodvale to visit her family, and decides to message Sylvia to finally meet up - things escalate from there, and Dorothea decides to give her and Sylvia a chance.

peace - Dorothea finds herself unexpectedly falling deeper in love with Sylvia, but warns her that she has struggled with self-worth and mental health in the past, and that it may be difficult for them to have a "normal" relationship, and Sylvia understands and accepts this.

champagne problems - Some more time passes and Sylvia finally decides to propose to Dorothea - but she isn't ready - rejecting Sylvia in front of all her family, friends, and hometown.

my tears ricochet - Sylvia tries to cope with the immediate anger from the rejection from someone she had always loved, and Dorothea tries to cope with the anger towards herself for not being able to commit to a good relationship.

marjorie - Dorothea is overwhelmed, lacking support from her hometown, friends, siblings, and father (who had never really supported her love life anyway). She tries to find solace in what her late mother and best friend, Marjorie would think.

the 1 - A few weeks after the breakup, Sylvia is still trying to process her emotions and move on - why didn't it work out between them?

this is me trying - Dorothea takes the train back to Woodvale to apologize to Sylvia - ever since the fallout her mental health had declined, she stopped acting, and she moved farther away. She puts her honest self out to Sylvia, who's astounded and speechless - who acknowledges this apology while accepting that it wasn't the best for them to be together.

happiness - Dorothea and Sylvia separately reflect on their failed relationship, but somehow both know that they will heal individually over time.

ACT III: back when i was living for the hope of it all

long story short - Woodvale High school junior Betty has an unfortunate reputation of failed relationships and "sleeping around", but despite her bad luck with guys, she has finally found the handsome, popular James, who's she's been dating for a while and is incredibly happy with.

gold rush - High school senior Augustine runs into her schoolmate James, who she hadn't seen in forever, at the class Coney Island trip over the summer, and doesn't remember him looking that beautiful last time they talked...

mirrorball - Though Betty is thrilled to be in a new relationship, she is afraid that she'll mess this one up. She opens up to James about her complex worries, and James is reassuring but is secretly unsure about how to deal with this pressure.

willow - James begins seeing Augustine on the side, while still remaining in this relationship with Betty - juggling the two girls back and forth, unknowingly to the both of them, as they become further involved with him.

august - Augustine acknowledges her hopeless romantic attitude and how it's both helped her and hurt her in her relationship with James - then she finds out the truth about him and Betty.

betty - News of James cheating spreads around the school like wildfire, and James contemplates his mistakes, planning to go to Betty's seventeenth birthday party to try to apologize.

cardigan - After denying James' apology, Betty reflects on how used she felt upon hearing the news, and how she has been hurt once again by someone she trusted.

exile - It's been months now - at the winter formal, Augustine sees James, James sees Betty, and Betty sees but refuses to acknowledge James - but they are all hurting.

closure - Augustine receives a text from James, officially apologizing for what he did and checking in on how she is. She is reminded about how wrong she felt about being the person someone cheated on someone with.

evermore - It's December 31st, and James and Betty are in their respective homes, hyperaware of the lack of each other's presence to ring in the New Year together. Because they both acknowledge why the relationship failed, they can take this experience as a lesson to move forward and mature.

[maluminspace]

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Calum Hood/Michael Clifford/Female Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Content: Calum and reader take Michael on a cute little first date, lots of fluff, kisses and cuddles, a few sexual references. 

Trigger warnings: Strong language, alcohol, references to sexual activity

A/N: This is my contribution to the August/September 5sos fic writers collab. This time we decided to exchange gifts and I had the pleasure of writing for the lovely @malumsmermaid! I hope you enjoy this, Lauren, your whole form was an absolute treat, I could have written everything on it tbh! <3 

Thank you @h0tsos and @mermaidcashton for helping me as always!

The carpark outside the amusement complex seems about as busy as you’d expect it to be on a Friday evening.

As Calum pulls the car into a parking space as near to the entrance as possible, you check your reflection in your little compact mirror, trying to ignore the nervous butterflies in your tummy.

“You look gorgeous, angel.” Calum smiles encouragingly, turning off the car and unfastening his seatbelt. “And you know Michael will think so too, most of his messages include some comment about how beautiful you are.”

You shove your compact back into your handbag and turn to face your boyfriend. He looks as flawless as ever, the dying sunlight casting his handsome face in a golden glow. Most people would have taken his comment as an admission of jealousy but you know him too well for that. He’s not envious of Michael complimenting you, in fact he actively encourages it. Your boyfriend’s only insecurity is that your date might like you a little bit more than he likes Calum. Something that you find very hard to believe.

“He’s always raving about how gorgeous you are too, Calum.” You reply seriously. “There’s no way he’d have agreed to this date if he wasn’t attracted to both of us.”

“You really think so?” Calum asks, a rare bashfulness present in his expression as he searches your face for a sign that you might be lying just to make him feel better.

Nodding sincerely you reach out to take his hand. “Michael definitely seems to like a man who knows what he wants, doesn’t he?” You prompt, tilting your head questioningly. “Besides, how could anyone not think you were hot, Cal? Have you even looked in a mirror lately? You look more like an underwear model everyday.”

Calum laughs, a light blush rising his cheeks. “Shut up… I do not!”

“Are you challenging me, Hood?” You ask, “Because we both know how that ended up last time.”

There’s no way that Calum can argue with you. Last time he’d denied how good he looked, he’d ended up pressed against the stall in the bathroom of a bar, fighting to keep his moans to a minimum as you sucked the life out of him. He seems to get lost in the memory for a moment but you snapped him out of it with a brief kiss to his cheek. “Come on, we can’t keep our date waiting!”

Calum nods giving your hand one last squeeze before he gets out of the car.

Your nerves only seem to multiply as you join Calum outside, taking his hand again and leading the way into the amusement complex. It’s not the sort of place you and Calum visit all  that often. You’d been to the Cinema here a few times but according to the sign at the entrance, there was also an amusement arcade, mini golf center, and an escape room attraction in addition to the bowling alley that you knew about already, because that’s where your date worked.

You’d found that little piece of information out when you’d first started talking to Michael a few weeks back. He’d nervously reached out to you and Calum when he’d joined the online ghost hunting forum that the two of you ran. After a couple of days of small talk, the messages had become a little bit flirty and Calum had suggested moving your conversation over to Whatsapp instead.

Despite being a bit nervous at first, Michael never seemed to be lost for words and he wasn’t completely hopeless at flirting either. He’d quickly integrated into your life and you’d found yourself discussing him with Calum in increasingly sexual and even romantic ways. After a while it seemed inevitable that you needed to meet him in person and see if this online ‘thing’ had any substance in the real world.

When you’d suggested meeting up for dinner, Michael had seemed incredibly excited, suggesting that you meet him after his shift at work so that the three of you could grab something to eat at his favourite burger place.

Heading into the building, you stuck close to Calum, trying to focus on your excitement rather than your nerves.

On the surface, Calum looks cool as a cucumber, slinging his arm casually around your shoulder as he glances around, taking in his surroundings. Underneath that calm exterior, though, you know that he’s a whirlwind of emotions, just like you.

You reach the amusement arcade first. It’s fairly busy, little clusters of families and groups of friends gathered around the various gaming machines. Their laughter and excited chatter brings a smile to your face. This sort of environment reminds you so much of the early days of your relationship with Calum, when he’d try to impress you by winning hundreds of tickets on the games or getting you a cuddly toy from the grabber machines.

Calum seems to have the same thought as his gaze drifts to the basketball game. “Remember how good I used to be at that?” He asks, smiling wistfully.

You nod. “You used to win so many tickets on that game.”

Your boyfriend’s gentle smile morphs into something a little more flirtatious as an idea occurs to him. “Maybe I should try and impress Michael with my skills… do you think he likes cuddly toys?”

“Who doesn’t?” You counter with a small giggle. “But if we don’t hurry up we won’t get a chance to impress him, he’ll think we’ve stood him up.”

Calum pulls you into further into his side as he quickens his pace, following the arrows on the overhead signs to the bowling alley. Not that it’s necessary, really, given that the unmistakable sounds of heavy bowling balls rolling over polished wooden floors and the clattering of plastic pins is loud enough to be heard over the beeping and blooping of the arcade games.

As the bowling alley looms in front of you, your eyes are drawn immediately to the welcome desk. There’s a young lady currently spraying deodorizer into a couple of pairs of the bowling shoes but Michael is nowhere to be seen.

“Hi there!” The girl smiles brightly, storing the shoes back on the rack behind the counter. “Is it just a lane for two, or are you part of a bigger group?” She asks, her brown eyes glinting prettily in the dim light.

“Oh, we're not here to play, sorry.” Calum replies nervously. “We’re just meeting someone here…”

“Oh my god! You must be Michael’s dates!” The girl exclaims, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you all day!”

The news that Michael has told his work friend about you helps ease your nerves a little bit. It confirms that he’s excited for the date at least.

“Really?” Calum chuckles, “we can’t wait to meet him in person…”

The girl leans over the counter, beckoning you both closer that she can talk in a lower voice. “He’s a bit of a dork and he’s really nervous, so please go easy on him!”

You nod, knowingly. “Yeah we gathered about the dork thing.”

“And we'll take care of him, we promise, won’t we babe?” Calum adds, squeezing your arm gently.”

“Of course!” You confirm. “He’s not the only nervous one, though.. we’ve never done anything like this before, either.”

The girl simply grinned. “Well, you’ve picked a good guy, I really hope tonight goes well, what’re your plans?”

Before you can reply, someone interjects. “You better not be ruining my good name, over there, Jas…”

You glance up to see Michael hovering awkwardly at the other end of the counter.

“Would I ever do such a thing?” Jasmine gasps dramatically. “I’m just making sure your cute dates know what they’ve let themselves in for, that’s all.” She aims a quick wink at you and Calum before heading over to tidy up the desk space around the computer.

“I promise I’m not as nerdy as Jasmine has probably tried to make you believe I am.” Michael chuckles, stepping a bit closer to you.

He looks even more beautiful in real life than he does in his photos. His green eyes have such depth to them, that you swear you could get totally lost in them for hours. His fluffy blonde hair is just begging for your fingers to be run through it and you can’t help but let your eyes drift over his simple, yet attractive outfit. The plain black button-up (done all the way up to his neck, unlike Calum’s…) and his black skinny jeans compliment his body perfectly.

“She didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know, dork.” Calum smirks playfully.

Michael blushes and curls in on himself a little, so you take the initiative to move the conversation on. “That doesn’t stop you from looking gorgeous, though!” You try, tentatively reaching out to touch his arm. “It’s nice to see that someone knows how to wear a shirt without flashing his nips at everyone.”

Calum huffs in mock offence at your comment, but Michael chuckles, his eyes lighting up gleefully with the gesture.

“Hey!” Calum grumbles jokingly. “Everyone loves seeing a bit of nipple now and again.”

“I agree, I think hot guys should always have their nipples out.” Jasmine interjects.

You notice the way that Michael bites his bottom lip as his eyes travel down Calum’s chest. “Yeah hot guys, definitely should…” he agrees quietly, as though he’s talking more to himself than anyone else.

“Well maybe after a few drinks we can get a few of your buttons open.” Calum smirks, reaching out his hand to stroke Michael’s arm, just like you had a moment ago.

Michael melts at the suggestion, his eyes burning into Calum’s as he swallows thickly. You know exactly how he’s feeling, you’ve been subject to Calum’s effortless flirting countless times. Your boyfriend is just a master at making people feel relaxed and incredibly wanted at the same time.

“Well I don’t know about that…” the blonde replies, his cheeks reddening under Calum’s gaze.

Despite his online flirting, you’re not entirely sure that Calum’s full-on approach is the best way to win Michael over. Making an executive decision, you interject, breaking the silence that’s descended over the three of you. “Trust Calum to start talking about your nipples before he’s even brought you dinner!” You giggle.

“Hey, you were the one that brought up the nipple conversation!” Calum argues, shooting you a smirk before turning his attention back to Michael “don’t let her convince you that she's innocent, Mikey. She’s far from it, I promise!”

Michael’s blush deepens a little further at the fond shortening of his name and the insinuation that you have a mischievous side. Knowing that Calum could easily turn this conversation into something far too cheeky for such an early point in the date, you decide to try and navigate a safer topic once again. “Stop traumatising the poor guy, Calum.” You sigh. “Are you going to take us for dinner before Christmas or…”

Calum’s smirk stays firmly on his face as he nods. “Sure, if Mikey’s ready to eat?”

Still looking a little shy, Michael scratched the back of his neck. “Sure, unless you guys fancy a game or two of bowling first?” He asks. “Because, y’know, I don’t have to pay or anything…”

Despite looking a little embarrassed about his suggestion, he also sounds somewhat proud of the fact he can show off something to them.

“Sounds like fun.” You reply, hoping to bolster his confidence a bit. “Although I think it’ll be a very unfair game! You probably get to practice a lot.”

Michael shrugs, “not a lot…”

“It doesn’t matter how much he practices, angel.” Calum smirks. “I’ll still beat both your asses.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that, Mr!” You giggle, slapping Calum’s arm playfully. “Let’s team up against him, Mikey babe, and show him how it’s done!”

Michael’s expression brightens at your use of the combination of his shortened name and the pet name Calum had used for him earlier. “You want to team up with me?” He asks, as though the news is somewhat of a shock. “I just thought…”

“Well if Mr I’ll-beat-both-your-asses wants to prove himself, we should teach him a lesson, shouldn’t we?” You giggle, gaining a little self confidence as you take his hand. “Let’s knock him down a peg or two, huh?”

Michael nods, closing his fingers around yours as he glances at Calum to make sure he’s not overstepping any boundaries.

“Well it’d make a change for you to knock something down, because you certainly never hit many pins….” Your boyfriend teases before squeezing Michael’s arm affectionately. “I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for, teaming up with this one.”

“It’s just nice to be able to bowl with someone other than my dumb friend, Luke, to be honest.” Michael admits. “He’s a great guy but he’s clumsy as hell and he has the attention span of a gnat.”

“Sounds like he’d get on perfectly with Calum, then.” You smirk.

***

Once you’ve all changed into bowling shoes, Jasmine allocates you a lane and wishes you luck. You don’t miss the little wink and thumbs up she gives to Michael before she returns to tidying up the shoe rack.

“Lane 5 is my lucky lane.” Michael announces, the hint of pride that he’d had in his voice when he told you he didn’t have to pay to bowl here, is back and you find it utterly adorable. “So it looks like we have a fighting chance of beating you after all…” He adds, turning to face Calum as he picks up a bowling ball in each hand from the rack.

“I hope you’re right, babe.” Calum grins. “It’s been ages since i’ve had some decent competition!” He aims a knowing nod at you along with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey!” You protest. “I’ve beaten you plenty of times.”

Shaking his head, Calum insists that you’re terrible at most things that could be described as a sport, no matter how loosely the activity might qualify.

“That’s so rude.” You huff playfully, linking your arm through Michael’s. “Come on Mikey, let’s beat his ass…”

Michael giggled excitedly. “I’m up for that bet.”

“Well I hope all your practice pays off, because the losers are buying nachos…” Calum winks at you both.

Before you Michael can reply, a thoughtful expression takes over your boyfriend’s face. “Unless you get those for free as well, Mikey?” He adds, “In which case we need a new bet…”

“I get them half price…” Michael laughs, the adorable sound making your heart melt a bit in your chest.

“We can get nachos next time anyway!” You interrupt, “I don’t want to ruin the nice meal you’re gonna buy for use later, Cal.”

Calum opens his mouth to respond but Michael interjects. “Yeah about that…”

For a moment you’re terrified that Michael is having second thoughts about the date. It’s obvious by the nervous look on his face that Calum shares your concerns.

Michael scratches the back of his neck anxiously. “I feel like I should be the one to buy dinner for you guys. I’m the one who should be romancing you both and stuff…”

Relief floods through you at Michael’s words, knowing that was his biggest concern about the night meant that you didn’t have to worry about him backing out. You have a whole speech ready about how Calum loves to be the one that treats his lovers to meals and gifts. It’s all part of how he shows his affections. You never get to say any of it, though.

Calum steps forward, cupping Michael’s cheek gently. “We’re the ones that asked you out, Mikey.” He smiles softly. “Let us take care of you and pay for the meal tonight, okay?”

Michael sort of melts under Calum’s gaze as he nods. You know from experience that when Calum turns on the charm like that, there’s no choice but to agree with whatever he’s saying. “As long as you’re sure?” The blonde replies, his eyes never leaving Calum’s.

“I’m sure, babe.” Calum insists, still holding Michael’s gaze effortlessly. “Hey, angel.” He adds to you without looking away, seemingly engrossed in Michael. “Would you be really mad if I stole the first kiss with our date.”

“Not if I get one right after!” You grin, stepping a little closer to the two men.

You can tell that Michael’s heart is pounding, that slight fear and panic that always engulfs you in the seconds before a first kiss with someone new, is painted all over the blonde’s pretty face. In an attempt to calm him and simultaneously feel more involved in the moment, you take Michael’s hand. He spares you a quick glance before Calum gently commands his attention once more.

“Are you happy with that, baby?” Calum asks, glancing down at Michael’s lips as he spoke. “We don’t want you to feel like you’re being passed around or anything.”

A tiny glint appears in Michael’s eyes that suggests he probably quite likes the sound of that actually. You make a mental note of that for when things hopefully do take a sexy turn a little further down the line. There’s no rush, though. Right now you're just excited to see Calum kiss your new date and then kiss him yourself.

“I’m more than happy with that.” Michael confirms, leaning ever-so-slightly closer to Calum. “I’ve thought about it a lot actually.”

Seemingly satisfied that he’s not pushing too hard, Calum pulls Michael’s face closer to his own until their lips meet. It looks like a soft and gentle gesture, their movements sort of hesitant, neither man wanting to come across as too pushy or eager.

It was strange that you’d been a bit worried about this moment on the run up to your date with Michael. Despite your attraction to the blonde, you’ve always had somewhat of a jealous streak and you’d been concerned that it’d rear its ugly head when Calum started showing Michael some romantic or sexual attention. However, now that it’s happening right in front of your eyes, the only thing you actually feel is excitement. It’s almost as though this moment marks the very start of a new chapter of your life, and it’s not nearly as scary as you thought it might be.

Watching Michael melt into Calum just makes you want to take them both home and explore this new thing alone with them. You know that it’s important not to rush, so you push those thoughts away for the time being, focusing on enjoying the moment.

When they finally pull apart, you waste no time in sidling between them, wrapping your arms around Michael’s neck. He looked even cuter up close; his eyes were such a pretty shade of green, you felt like you could lose yourself in them and if his lips feel as soft as they look, you don’t think you’ll ever want to stop kissing them.

Despite having just done this with Calum, Michael seems a bit nervous. The corners of lips twitch into a hesitant smile as he leans forward a little clumsily. You giggle softly, tilting your head a bit to make the angle easier.

Michael connects the kiss, his movements gentle and slow, giving you every opportunity to back out if you wanted to. That’s the very last thing on your mind, though. Michael’s lips feel every bit as heavenly as you’d imagined. You never thought that anyone could make your knees weak just with a simple kiss like Calum could, it seems you‘d been very much mistaken.

“God, you two are beautiful.” Calum whispers, his hand resting on your lower back as he hovers closeby.

A tiny hum escapes Michael, it’s almost a moan but he seems to catch himself before it quite develops into one.

You swallow it eagerly, sliding your tongue over Michael’s bottom lip to deepen the kiss.

“Looks like my angel loves kissing you as much as I do, baby.” Calum whispers, just loud enough for you and Michael to hear over the background noise.

The blonde man looks slightly dopey as he finally pulls away for air. “You’re both…” He breathes, seemingly trying to figure out the right words to describe you and Calum. “Uh, you’re both amazing, I…”

“We could say the same about you.” You reply, pecking one last kiss to Michael’s lips before snuggling into Calum. The contrast between the new exciting feelings you have for Michael and the deep, familiar ones you have for Calum make for the most wonderful combination. “Right, Cal?”

Calum hums in agreement, placing a kiss on your cheek and then Michael’s. “It feels like we’ve all hit the jackpot, doesn’t it?”

“Definitely.” Michael agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “I don’t know how I managed to get you this, but I couldn’t be happier about it.”

“Neither could we.” You confirm, stepping away from both men towards the keypad for your lane’s display monitor. “Now let’s whoop Calum’s ass so he can buy us burgers and cocktails!”

“The burgers and cocktails were always going to be my treat, but I wanna know what I’ll get when I win.” Calum smirks..

“What if the winner can choose any prize they want in the arcade and the loser has to get it for them?” Michael suggests. “I’ve had my eye on that cute little pumpkin keyring in the coin push machines for forever…”

You could tell by the expression on Calum’s face that he was already incredibly soft for your date. “Then you’d better win, hadn’t you?” He replies, pinching Michael’s cheek playfully.

“Calum’s terrible at the coin push machines, though.” You chuckle, “we’ll be here all night!”

“That’s okay…” Michael grins. “I get half off the nachos, remember?”

***

The first half of the game is mostly spent exchanging flirtatious banter and the three you of trying desperately to appear cool and sexy to the other two.

Even though you and Calum have lived together for quite a while now, and know pretty much everything there is to know about each other, you still find yourself trying to impress him as much you’re trying to impress Michael. You know that’s probably not the only surprising thing you’ll find about adding someone new to your relationship, and it’s a pretty exciting thought.

You try to imagine what other thoughts and emotions will be conjured up as time wears on and Michael becomes a permanent fixture in your life. Perhaps it’s far too early in your relationship for thoughts like that, but you can’t really help it. Although Calum has always been more than enough for you, Michael definitely seems like the perfect finishing touch to your lives.

“Yes!” Calum exclaims loudly, pumping his fist into the air as the final pin clatters over on the shiny wood of the bowling lane. “Looks like I just extended my lead even further.” He boasts, aiming a wink at you and Michael before ambling over to take a sip of his beer.

Jasmine had been kind enough to ask one of the waiters to bring you over a complimentary drink each. You’d insisted on paying but she assured you that she was allowed to give out a few freebies and it’d been a while since she’d exercised that privilege.

“Don’t get too comfortable in the top spot.” Michael retorts, ambling over to the ball dispenser and picking up his favoured green one. “I’ve made bigger comebacks than this in the past…”

You glance up at the scoreboard on the aging monitor hanging over your lane with a doubtful expression on your face. Calum has a considerable lead and you only had 4 goes each left. The likelihood of either of you overtaking him now is slim to none. Despite that fact, Michael looks pretty confident and you want nothing more than to encourage that. “Yeah, go on, Mikey! You’ve been heading for a strike all night.”

Michael beams over at you, obviously enjoying your enthusiastic motivation. He steps up to the lane, focusing harder than he has all night before taking a little run up and hurling the ball towards the waiting pins.

Watching intently, you cheer loudly, jumping up from your seat and clapping with excitement as all 12 pins are sent tumbling in every direction. “Yes! Mikey, you did it!” You shriek, running over to him and engulfing him in a huge congratulatory hug.

He giggles delightedly, wrapping you in a surprisingly firm embrace before kissing the top of your head.

The tiny contact sends butterflies dancing in your tummy as you melt into him, trying to prolong the hug for as long as possible.

“I told you!” Michael grins. “I’ve wanted that keychain for a long time, there’s not much I won’t do to get it.”

As you finally relinquish your hold on your date, you have a vision of him standing at the coin push machines, concentration etched into every inch of his face as he tries his absolute hardest to win the little pumpkin trinket.

“I might hold you to that, baby.” Calum smirks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I’m actually tempted to just let you win if that promise stays on the table.”

“Pfft!” You huffed. “Let us win… wow Calum, I can barely hear you over the sound of your ego.”

Your boyfriend simply shrugs, a playful expression on his handsome face. “Hey, the numbers speak for themself, angel.”

***

It turns out that Michael’s strike was all that he needed to turn his luck around. After that he barely leaves a pin standing on each of his turns and easily ends up with the winning score.

“I think you lied about not practicing much.” Calum pouts, draining the last of his beer before leading the way back to the check in desk. “I think you were just holding out on us, to give me a fighting chance.”

A slightly guilty flicker in Michael’s eye suggests that there is possibly an element of truth to Calum’s accusation and you can’t help but laugh. “Oh stop moping and go get our boy his pumpkin keychain!” You command playfully. “I’ll decide what I want afterwards.”

Once the bowling shoes were all returned, the three of you headed towards the amusement arcade. Just like the rest of the complex, it was fairly busy. The delighted laughs of various little groups of people, the flashing lights and musical bleeping from the machines and the general playful atmosphere, wake up a childish excitement in you. It’s been a long while since you and Calum have had a date like this and you hope that Michael will help bring more of this element to your relationship.

Calum instinctively winds his arm around your shoulders and you notice that your date looks a little awkward, as though he’s perhaps feeling left out. To quickly remedy the situation, you reach out to tangle your fingers through Michael’s. He instantly smiles and relaxes, blushing a bit when Calum aims a fond smile his way. “So which machine do I need to defeat to win your prize, baby?” He asked.

Michael visibly appreciates the pet name, apparently he hasn’t gotten used to it yet. He points at one of the coin push machines in the center of the room. “The pumpkin keychain is in the one right on the end.” He clarifies. “I’m not sure how close to the edge it is, though.”

When the three of you arrive at the machine in question, both men examine it closely. Calum in particular appears to gauge the distance of Michael’s desired prize from the drop. “Well, it just so happens that I’m pretty amazing at these games, so it won’t take me long.” Your boyfriend states, his confidence returning with full force.

You know that Calum’s bravado is just a playful front, part of his way of flirting and simultaneously hiding his nerves. That doesn’t stop you from wanting to knock him down a peg or two occasionally. Smirking, you turn to meet Michael’s gaze. “Yeah, I hope speed impresses you, baby.” You giggle. “Calum’s kind of known for it in most areas…”

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