#anyway i need a real adult to put me in bed and stare at me till im asleep and then sit next to me while i cry and do my homework

[soggypotatoes]

ah also ever since I dissociated and cut so bad I had to get stitches Ive been unable to sh at all.. this is a good thing, right? obviously? but I'm in painnnn guys, my body has a strong nausea reaction to alcohol now, I don't have access to weed, I don't.. have any other ways of coping 🥲 I mean ok obviously I do. I have skills. but I've USED them bro Ive DONE them, I know from what I've learnt that there's a point though where skills don't work. you can do every healthy coping mechanism in the book, but true therapy is relationships, healing involves closeness to other people, and my body is as repelled by that as it is to alcohol. so the only thing I've got left is taking way too much ritalin and staying up all night scrolling tiktok and not doing the assignment that was due yesterday bc ongoing debilitating panic I'm doing nothing about is.. SOMETHING. like maybe if I take enough ritalin and stay awake for a rly long time my brain will break and something different will happen

[whatthefishh]

the adults are talking

Rydal Keener x f!reader

Warnings: p in v, swearing, cream pie, car sex, possibly bad banter idk I love these idiots, daddy issues, just PWoP but part of the Oxford Comma universe

Words: 1.4K

This was not a good idea, and yet here you were trying to make it work.

You were in Rydal’s car, on his lap in the front seat, knees bracketing his hips while you shared the same breath. Chest to chest, you could barely move in the tight space. He had told you the seats reclined back but clearly the vintage vehicle wasn’t designed to fit the two of you, least of all two people trying to fuck in the front seat.

It started when you were in class together, his hand resting on your thigh innocently. You were paying attention, diligently taking notes in the back of the lecture hall. Rydal was losing interest, you could tell by the swirls he was drawing with his finger on your bare leg, the skirt you were wearing one of his favourites. He always lost his damn mind when you showed a bit of leg, and to add to his agony you were actually being studious today.

After inching his hand upward every few minutes, going unnoticed, you nearly yelped when his index finger brushed the gusset of your panties. Forcefully dragging his hand away, you hissed at him to stop. He tried to stare at you convincingly but it still failed to work on you. He tried to pout, leaning in closer to grab your attention and you still didn’t give in.

Eventually you told him you’d let him have his way with you after class but that you needed him to be patient. As soon as class ended, he packed up your stuff for you, quickly shoving it into your bag and pulling your hand towards the exit. Your dorm was closer than his, and he made a beeline heading in that direction, expertly weaving his way through the crowd of students and pulling you behind him. Upon opening your door, you saw your roommate essentially eating her boyfriend’s face on her bed and immediately turned around to leave before they broke apart for air.

Rydal was quick to offer his own dorm, now not as far away, which found the two of you in the hallway before his neighbour decided to let him know his father was waiting for him inside his room. Looking at him with a bit of humour and a bit of pity, you brushed some of his hair back and told him maybe it just wasn’t his day. He was pouting again, using those big beautiful brown eyes of his to pull at your heartstrings before they lit up again.

Which brought you to the present, your back pressed against the steering wheel as he sat back and groaned at the sight of you without your top on.

“What the fuck kind of name is Cerberus anyway?”

“Why are you so hot when you’re mean to me?” He replied back, not even looking up from the expanse of your skin he was touching on your tummy.

Reaching up to pull the cups of your bra down, he didn’t have to strain his neck at all to put his mouth on you, tongue swirling around your nipple in small circles before flicking it, pulling a soft moan from you. You were rolling your hips against his pants, the space so tight even with the seats moved back, you couldn’t even get your panties off. Your hands were in his silky hair while he sucked a bruise onto your sternum, on his way to your other breast.

Rydal’s one hand was gripping your hip and preventing you from grinding on him while the other was trying to open his pants, shaky movements giving away his desperation.

“Help,” he mumbled over your skin.

Sniffing out a laugh, your hands slap his away before unzipping his pants for him and pulling his hard cock out, gripping the base of it teasingly.

“Always need my help—“

“—trying to fuck you right now, it’s so not the time—“

“—when are you not trying t-to fuck me, let’s be real—“

“—so mean, baby, is it because you want me so bad, huh?”

At that, he pulled your panties aside and without warning started pushing his length into your dripping core, effectively silencing any comeback you had for him. Throwing your head back on a moan, he pushed on your sternum so you were laid in front of him, as far as you could go.

Your skirt was still on. He looked at where you were joined, secretly, like a little secret kept between you two, the way he was grinding his hips up into you, the way he made you absolutely come apart for him— not so secretive by the way the windows were fogging up — enough to make you forget your retort.

Rydal’s hands were squeezing everywhere he could reach, watching you barely lift yourself on his cock and then drop back down, moaning unabashedly. The range of motion you had was limited but his cock was filling you up so deeply from this angle, hitting that spot inside you that made your mind go numb repeatedly.

His mouth was slightly open, ragged breath only adding to the heat your bodies were producing, bucking his hips up every few seconds into your warm and wet pussy. Seeing you ignoring him and swatting his hand away in class, biting your pencil before scribbling notes and just being so fucking smart in general had him hard for so long before he even attempted to get his hands on you. Watching you go stupid when he filled you up was something he’d never get enough of.

You’d barely been riding him for a few minutes before you were coming, the slow grind and whiny pants coming from Rydal had you falling over the edge quicker than you anticipated. Head falling back behind the steering wheel, your back arched so your breasts were in his face. He was delirious from how bad he wanted you today.

Kissing whatever skin he could reach, he left a spit trail on your body, roughly pulling you down onto his cock and fucking up into you at the same time. Your body heaved forward, curling into his chest as you were still riding out the waves of your pleasure while Rydal chased his own. His grunts and whines were close to your ear now, his sounds so debauched to have your stomach muscles tightening in response.

Leaking more for him, Rydal’s thrusts were more and more sloppy, the noises of your coupling as well as his whimpers made you clench around him, the stirrings of desire once again catching you by surprise. Your own moans were probably loud enough for anyone who happened to be within fifty metres of the car to know exactly what was happening, let alone the fogged up windows.

Your hand shot out to steady yourself, imprinting in the condensation as you met his thrusts, slamming your hips on his to reach orgasm again. His hand moved to the front of your panties, pressing on where he could feel himself inside you and you gasped at the sensation. His thumb slipped around the flimsy material, rubbing at your wet bundle of nerves until you shuddered.

“F-fuck, harder! Mmmph—“ you cried.

The way his hands were indenting your flesh was utterly obscene, the way the car was probably rocking, the tightness of the space, Rydal’s own whines and whimpers — all of it made your second time coming that much more intense.

You cried out loudly, unknowingly causing Rydal to find his own release inside your sweet pussy.

“S’good, so — fucking — good, shit baby,” he groaned, licking a stripe up your neck before attacking your lips with his own in a sloppy and desperate kiss.

He softened inside you, plugging you full of him while he kissed you and kissed you and kissed you. The two of you probably alerted the whole school as to what you were up to, regardless of the parking lot being somewhat empty when he made the rash and cliche suggestion of using Cerberus for his “personal emergency”.

Finally pulling apart to breathe, Rydal’s shapely nose brushed against yours before reality hit him again.

“What do you think my dad wanted?”

“Yeah, okay let me just—“

Sliding yourself off him before he started talking about his father while still inside you, you fell gracelessly in the front seat and started getting dressed.

Once you were proper again— as proper as you could look, your hair and face were giving freshly fucked but —you turned to him, smiling at the contemplative look on his face.

“Okay Rydal, tell me what’s on your mind.”

[ohtobeleah]

Leah babe. Whenever you’re ready we’re here patiently waiting for the next update of TH&TH.

THIS TOOK ME FUCKING FOREVER TO WRITE!! And as promised, an earlier update as the Masterlist received 1’000 notes!! Ahhh. Anyway—here’s the next chapter. Also the Masterlist for those who need to catch up. We're getting closer and closer to the end of what I'd say would be series finale of season one of TH&TH. But a series two would be on the cards.

Jake Seresin never thought he’d fly for the Navy, he had every intention of joining the airforce from the day he knew what a plane was. The white walls of his childhood bedroom were plastered with air force propaganda posters spanning decades, yet they all told him the same thing. That planes were cool and that someday he’d fly one. He remembered as he sat in his F-18 Super Hornet that the longer he sat staring at the walls he littered with his dreams, his passion—the more he wanted it. A common denominator however for a lot of Jake Seresin's teen and adulting life choices had been one thing and one thing only. You. 

As Jake took his only shot at saving his colleagues' lives as they gained altitude towards the sun–like a modern day version of Ikaris themselves, Jake thought back to the moment he thought maybe the Navy wouldn't be such a bad career choice after all. 

“You wanna do what?” Sitting on your best friend's bed you told Jake that you were starting to think about a career in the Navy. “Say it again for me real quick, I don't think I heard you correctly.” He teased as he spun around on his desk chair, flipping the pen he’d been doing his homework with through his fingertips. 

“I said, I was talking to Sarah the other day and she said her older brother is a clearance diver and loves it.” You explained as you sat with your History book open on page one hundred and forty nine. Reading about the social and political constructs of the highly controversial and deeply divisive ruler—empress Wu. “Been thinking about it a lot actually–seemed pretty neat.” You couldn’t really focus on her rise from common concubine to empress when Jake was staring into your soul from across his room though. 

“You know if you go into the Navy and I go into the Air Force we can't be friends anymore right?” Jake taunted before you threw his own pillow his way. “What!” He gasped. “I'm just saying–it's kinda like a given thing that the branches all kinda hate each other.” It was your senior year of highschool so the reality of the real world was starting to kick in. You'd both been giving a lot of thought into what you wanted to do after school. If a gap year was on the horizon or if college was a possibility. Or for you maybe it was the Naval Academy and for Jake it would be the BMT. 

For now though, you and Jake both worked down at the local pizzeria after school–it was supposed to be your way of being able to spend more time together. But when the big boss had noticed that the two of you barely got anything done when you were both rostered on together? He made sure to end that real quick. 

“Doesn't the Navy have like, Naval Aviators or something?” You sighed, not realising just how much of a spark it lit inside Jake as he watched you return to your work. “If we both enlisted maybe we might be able to take on the world together?” You weren't putting all that much thought into what you were saying, simply making light hearted conversation with your best friend as you both did whatever homework you both had due the next morning. You History and Jake Mathematics–always the maths guy. “Who knows, But hey–if you do go into the Air Force and fly those stupid planes that cost way too much money I guess you already have a callsign.” Smirking, Jake looked at you like you’d just shot him through the chest. 

“Oh no. No way would I ever use Hangman as my call sign.” Jake huffed as he shook his head. “It's stupid.” 

“It's who you are, idiot.” You reminded him, all those moments where he’d hung around his locker waiting for the right moment to talk to you only to be left hanging had the namesake sticking to him like super glue all through high school. Like fuck was Jake taking that shit with him into his adult life. “Besides, it suits you.” 

The pad of Jake's thumb hit the trigger for his missile lock system the moment he’d been drawn back into the present by the tone he’d locked on the fifth generation fighter pilot. He watched as the jet exploded into a thick black fiery cloud that surely had to be lethal for whoever had been sitting in the cockpit. Knowing that he was coming home to you and whoever he’d just shot down wasn't. That would be his second air to air kill. You hadnt taken well to the first one–he wondered for a moment if you'd love him any less now that he had two. 

“Good afternoon ladies and gentleman, this is your savour speaking.” Jake put on his usual persona of the guy who everyone just couldn't stand as he came racing through the plume into vision of Chaos and Rooster. “Please fasten your seatbelts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright position and prepare for landing.” He watched as Chaos looked his way and smacked her first twice against the side of the cockpit, laughing behind her mask. He couldn’t really tell from this distance how fucking close to death she really was. 

“Hey Hangman, you look good.” Rooster commented from the back seat, not his usual position on a fighter jet. All things considered though it probably still had a pretty good view. Jake nodded peacefully in response, he was going to say something about how he wanted to throw up over the fact he’d left you like he did to get here. Crying, screaming his name, yelling at him that you needed him. He wanted to mention that it killed him to know he left you heartbroken in his best friend's arms because he just put his colleagues above you and even more so above his own safety. Or that if he’d listened to your direct orders to stand down Rooster and Chaos may very well not be alive right now. He wouldn’t ever say that to you—ever.

Jake didn’t say any of the aforementioned things, he couldn’t. The words failed him when he tried to convey the right things to say—they always had, but in this very instant he knew his worry and utter agony was written in the lines on his face. 

Jake just nodded and laughed with them. 

“I am good Rooster, I'm very good.” He paused as he broke right and turned back to head towards the carrier. He wondered if the girl who sat on his bed that one time and said you could both take on the world together would still want to charge at it head on when he landed or if you’d throw your hands up and finally say enough's, enough. “I'll see you both back on deck.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

“You’re okay Hawkeye, I got you.” Javy rocked with you as you clung to him in utter heartbreak. There was no sense of time anymore, you didn't know if you'd been left on the runway for two minutes or two hours as you cried out in utter heartache loud enough for anyone walking the flight deck to hear. “Jakes gonna bring em home.” 

“You don’t know that–what if he never comes home.” Javy wasn't about to tell you that he had that feeling too, he wasn't about to break your heart any more than Jake had already done so in order to go after Rooster and Chaos. “He's the love of my life Javy–” Javy felt his own heart shattering as he held you a little tighter, sitting with you between his legs in the middle of the runway. His arms encapsulated you like he was shielding you from the world around you. Not wanting you to ever be hurt again. “What am I supposed to do without him huh? What does he fucking want from me!?” 

“He doesn't want nothing Hawk, he probably just knows by now that you love him enough to know that whatever happens, good or bad–he had all the right intentions.” Deep down you knew Javy was right, you did love Jake enough to know that a year ago–or even just a few months ago for that matter, he never would have done this.  

Levi ‘Elvis’ Macarthy was a terrible person and an even worse influence on your husband. He was the very dictionary definition of superficial. There wasn't a person you loathed more than Jake’s current Wingman. You knew Levi wouldn't hesitate to leave Jake in the dust if things went wrong, but what scared you so much more was Jake had become the very same. 

“Oh my god—“. You just couldn't hold it in any more, your marriage had fallen to shambles around you before there was anything left to salvage. Your grandmother always used to tell you like because and you love despite. But with Jake? Over the last few months nothing seemed worth it. “You're worse than Levi.” You had just been discussing Jake's latest deployment, he hadn’t bothered to tell you until three days out. “Levi, he’s a selfish superficial asshole but he can’t help it, Jake–but you? You could be a good person but you wanna be an asshole! You are so obsessed with getting promoted and becoming the best of the very best that you’re choosing to be a piece of shit—“ It would be your last fight, the fight that drove you over the edge, the one you couldn't come back from. The fight where things were said that you couldn’t take back no matter how badly you wanted to. It was the fight that put all your others to shame. 

“Okay stop pretending this is some moral dilemma!” Jake hadn’t told you about his next deployment because he knew that you still weren’t over his last. He didn't know how to tell you without starting a fight. Which inevitably happened anyway. 

“It is a moral dilemma! You’re pushing everyone away to chase a fucking pipe dream!” You were so proud of Jake and everything he’d accomplished, but the idea that you were the only one who was didn't sit right with you. You knew he lived for the applause, but you couldn't cheer him on from the bleachers alone. “You’re a lieutenant! God isn't that enough for you at this moment? Revel in it a little before you chase the next rank!”  

“Oh you wanna go there?” Jake scoffed as he took strides towards you, crossing the distance of the living room. “You—“. Jake spat, his voice laced with venom as he spoke to you like he hadn’t been in love with you since the very first time he saw you let alone spoke to you. Pointing his finger into your chest. “You’re afraid to climb the ladder.” He barked. “Tell me love.” The term of endearment made you weak in such a heated moment. “When was the last time you actually did something you were proud of? You spend all your time worrying about me and what I'm doing and what I'm supposedly becoming because you're too fucking scared to fucking apply yourself, you're scared that even if you tried just a little goddamn harder that you'd still be told you're a crap analyst!” He didn't mean any of it, he just wanted to hurt you the same way you hurt him. But Jake? Well he couldn't attack your person, so he went for your job, your career. He knew you held a little self doubt about your position in the Navy, unlike himself who just oozed confidence in every aspect. “Always a Lieutenant Junior, never gonna make it to Rear Admiral.” 

“You go on this deployment, I won't be here when you get back.” This time you weren’t messing around. The idea had crossed your mind a time or two when things had gotten really bad, when you thought it would be easier to run than to stay and figure it out. 

“What?” Jake had suddenly lost all his male bravado. “What the hell are you talking about?” Although you’d thought about it, you’d never said it out loud. Never mentioned the idea to anyone. “Baby–” His eyes were soft and suddenly full of regret, had he gone too far this time? 

“You heard me Jake so help me god if you go, don’t expect me to fucking be here when you get back.” You thought your love for Jake Seresin could outlast any challenges you faced, but when he was the challenge himself? What else was left to do. 

“You know I have to though—you know better than anyone that I can’t just not go?” His eyes took in the entire expanse of your face, every small mark and imperfection that made you perfect to him in every way. Cupping your face between his hands. “Wifey, we’re okay, we don't have to do this.” You ignored Jake's words as you focused on the first statement that slipped past his lips. 

“Seems like an inevitable outcome then doesn’t it?” You continued, only to pull away and turn on your heels. Holding back the flooded dam that threatened to break if Jake made any attempt to keep you here. Stop you from leaving–.if he asked you to stay you knew it would be all the more harder to go, without question. You loved him so much. 

“Baby don’t leave me.” You left in the middle of the night that same night. 

He never would have put the lives of his fellow aviators above his own and he most certainly wouldn't have defied direct orders to risk his life in order to save another. The version of Jake Seresin that you almost served divorce papers to was long gone. Dead and buried. Replaced by the very best version of himself you knew he could be. The version you fell in love with during highschool. The version who asked you to marry him one random night in July under the stars as waves lapped around your ankles. The version you saw a future, a present and had a past with. It didn't hurt any less though, knowing that the outcome of all his soul searching may end up with the same outcome you’d left him over in the first place. 

You'd' still receive that folded flag, you’d still cry as his coffin was lowered, only now you knew for sure that you wouldn't be the only one to mourn him. 

“GET HER OFF THE DAMN RUNWAY!” Pete Mitchell could be heard screams from the barricades that you jumped over to reach your husband in time, to no avail. You’d fallen into a heap in Coyote's lap, inconsolable and crying as your heart raced at the thought you’d never see Jake again. Clutching at Javys flight suit, the nornex not doing much at all to dry your tears. “COYOTE! GET HER UP BEFORE YOU TWO GET RUN OVER BY A GODDAMN F-18!” 

“Someone tell my wife I'm coming home.” Jake had radioed back to the tower all the while you and Javy had been sitting on the flight deck. He had started making his way back to you the second he wasn't needed, he saw no need to string out your obvious heartbreak. He couldn't wait to get back to you, tell you how sorry he was, how much he loved you, how much you meant to him and how badly it broke his own heart he had to leave you behind like he did–but he knew Rooster and Chaos needed him just a little bit more in the very moment. Jake also couldn't wait to let you know how idiotidc it was to stand in the middle of a goddamn runway. How endearing and brave and oh so stupid he found it. He knew that you were going to tear him a new one about his actions, that was his only leg to stand on. You were miss prim and proper, he was reckless and foolish–the better halves of each other. “Someone tell Y/n I’m okay, for the love of god someone tell her I'm alright.” It was a plea that fell on somewhat deaf ears though, no one could get to you to relay the message and Pete Mitchell certainly wasn't about the scream that crossed the flight deck of the carrier. 

“We gotta move Lieutenant Commander–” Javy cooed as he tried to lift you up. Deadweight against his arms, you didn’t budge for love nor nothing. “Hey, Jake’s coming back, surely.” Pointing over your shoulder to the black dot in the distance headed straight for the carrier Javy tried his best to break through whatever haze had begun to cloud your better judgement. “You see that speck? That's Jake, so unless you wanna get railed by the cord that's gonna come at us at about a hundred miles an hour I suggest we move and the second he lands, I'll let you go? Deal?” You didn't believe Coyote as he tried to be the voice of reason, but as you watched the speck get a little closer, a little more defined, it sparked a hope inside you that you wanted to believe in. That it was Jake and he was coming home. 

“Shit–” You scrambled to your feet, dusting your uniform off as Javy took your hand in his, one hand behind the small of your waist as he guided you over to where the rest of the group stood. Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, all desperately awaiting the return of Hangman, Rooster and Chaos. “You really reckon it's him?” You asked as you approached Maverick, he hated the look in your eyes. Despair. Your eyelashes were wet and your cheeks were stained but none of that really mattered when he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and nodded, bringing out a haphazard smile across your face for the briefest of moments. 

“It's him Hawk, it's all of them.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

It was the smoothest of landings Jake had ever pulled off. Everything had gone according to plan. When the tail hook caught on the catcher cord, slowing Jake's Super Hornet to nothing, he could finally breathe again. There wasn’t a lot that confronted Jake Seresin, but when he took off from the carrier, leaving you behind? He’d never felt such a fear in the back of his throat. It resonated with him until he leaned. 

The cheers roaring out from his colleagues and fellow Naval men and women were enough to have him popping his canopy, holding his helmet in his hand as he fist bumped the air. Ravelling in the moment, the glory, the praise. Jake Seresin lived for the applause—and for the almost good enough but not quite worthy Dagger Spare, he thought he’d done pretty well for a guy who hadn’t made the team. 

“You’re insane!!” Phoenix beamed as she tapped Hangman on the shoulder three consecutive times. “And I’m not gonna tell you you’re great, but well done.” He barely acknowledged her, his eyes catching you in the crowd. The roar of success faded as he handed Bob his helmet—without taking his eyes off you. A smirk crept across his face when he saw you falter for a mere moment. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you were utterly and wholeheartedly relieved he was safe. But for a split second as the crowd cheered and separated just enough for Jake to barge his way to you—you couldn’t not let the happiness consume you. 

“Hi wifey—“ Is all Jake manages to say before you’re barreling at him. Running full speed into his arms. With a jump and a graceful lift, your lips are connecting with your husbands as he catches you in his strong arms. Hands on your ass as he kisses you back. Your arms thrown around his shoulder as he deepened the kiss you thought for a while there you’d never get to experience again. “I’m so so—“ You didn’t let him finish as your open palm slapped against his cheek. 

“Don’t you ever leave me like that again, do you hear me?” It wasn’t harsh enough to actually hurt, but it was still with enough force that took Jake aback. “Hangman—do you hear me?” Eyeing off the little gold heart he wore with so much pride.

Jake couldn’t stop himself from beaming at you. He loved you, oh so much. Kissing you again with haste as he nodded against your lips. “So stupid, I can’t believe you do that! Never again okay?” You pleased as Jake kissed you, talking into his mouth as teeth clashed together and tongues danced. Cupping his face to make sure this was real. That he was back and he was safe. “You hear my baby? You got nothing to prove.” 

“Loud and clear ma’am, loud and clear.” Mumbling into your mouth as he held you up by your thighs. The cheering of the entire crew around you made it all the more remarkable. Jake Seresin was a hero, and a beloved one at that. “You’re not off the hook either, pretty girl.” Jake smirked against your lips. “Jumping barricades and barrelling up runways.” It was true, it hadn’t been your finest moment, but you did it all for love. “So stupid wifey, you know that right?” You knew, so the only dignified response you gave was a silent nod. 

“I thought you weren’t coming back—“ You mumbled just shy of a whisper as you let your forehead rest against Jakes as he slowly put you down. Bending over with you to chase your lips again. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. 

“I’ll always come ba—“ Again, you slapped him again. This time a little harder as he trapped your hand in his. Making sure you couldn’t slap him again. “Okay, you gotta stop slapping me.” Jake poked his tongue against the inside of his slightly throbbing cheek as you eyed him off. 

“Sorry, I just needed to make sure you were listening.” Racing past the bridge of the carrier where both Admiral Beau and Admiral Bates stood. Chaos flew low and close as you looked up overhead. She held her finger up to the glass. Giving the admirals the bird before her right engine cut out. “But I’m so proud of you Jake—you brought them home.” 

“So I’m off the hook?” Jake asked as he raised an eyebrow, cocking the corner of his lip slightly as you shook your head. Laughing. 

“Oh, oh no—no no no Jacob, you are most definitely not off the hook.” You called him Jacob, he knew he was in shit when Jacob slipped past your lips. “But for now I think you deserve to have your moment.” You gestured to the crowd around you now cheering on Chaos and Rooster as they landed in the barricade. “Go celebrate your victory Lieutenant.” 

“I love you, Wifey!” Jake beamed as he stepped back, immersing himself in the crowd around him. “Love you to the moon and back!” He grinned before turning around, finding his way to the two people he risked it all for. 

“I love you all that much more.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

It had been a few weeks since the Uranium mission had come to its completion. The Admirals had made it abundantly clear that the ragtag team of aviators who had grown to be more like family than just colleagues could have a few precious weeks of unrestricted leave for their duties and sacrifices. Bradley Bradshaw and Robert Floyd had chosen to stay in North Island; They weren’t leaving until they knew for sure that Chaos Kazansky was going to be okay. For you and Jake? Things had mellowed out, settled down and you were both working through the underlying issues that were still plaguing whatever future you were both preparing to have with one another. 

Like today for example, you were both about to find out the paternity results of the DNA test Jake had taken for Marissa. He knew it wasn’t his kid, but he knew you needed that in writing. 

“Okay ladies cough up.” The Miramar Base Hospital smelt of sterile everything but the nurses station? They smelt of that Ariana Cloud Perfume and whatever food had been on offer in the cafeteria that day. “Who owes me what?” You teased as the three ladies sitting behind the glass fished out their wallets and all handed you a ten dollar bill. Much to their own displeasure. You smirked, collecting your earnings with no sympathy. 

“Much appreciated ladies—“ You winked. When Jake had first started doing the rounds for Chaos, you’d gone with him one time early on. The ladies at the front desk had mentioned Jake would always stop and have a chat—nothing malicious, nothing sinister behind it. He just enjoyed the praise he received. And you saw nothing wrong with that—but you’d started an underground betting ring not three days later with the nurses. If your husband was gonna act the foot? The least you were gonna do was make some extra money off him. “Someone ask him about his call sign next time he stops by, if he says anything else besides the fact he was left hanging by a girl he had a crush on in highschool he’s a liar—“ You picketed the cash as you turned on your heels. “Fifty Bucks ladies, take it or leave it.” 

“You look rather nice today Commander?” One of the nurses cooed as she hollered down the hall after you. You weren’t really sure what she was on about to be honest, you were just in a pair of old jeans and a sweater. Maybe it was the brown hair you now wore with pride. Jake had been right, Blondes did have more fun and you had certainly had your fair share during your time back at Miramar. You weren’t meant to be a blonde. So back to your roots you went. “Anything in particular got you all dressed to the nines?” 

“Just enjoying the rest and relaxation ladies, nothing else to it.” You smiled back at them before making your way further into the hospital—running into your husband and Bob shortly after. “I was just coming to see Chaos? How is she?” You asked Bob as Jake took you under his arm, pulling you closer to his side as he kissed the top of your head. It still smelled of brown box dye. He’d helped you colour it back a few nights prior. That in and of itself should have been a mission he had taken more seriously. 

“Awake, she wanted to be with Rooster for a little while.” Bob explained softly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee, do you want anything Commander?” You still weren’t all that keen on everyone calling you commander, shaking your head softly you sighed as Bob stood before you with tired eyes. 

“I’m good, and would you please just call me Hawk if anything Bob? Even Y/n’s totally fine—you guys are family. I don’t want you calling me Commander if we’re not on duty or working together.” 

“Yes ma’am, I’ll see you guys a little later.” Bob was tired, he walked the halls like a ghost of his former self. He and Rooster had been tag teaming for weeks and you knew Jake was worried about them both. 

“God I feel awful.” You mumbled into Jake's shoulder. “We should do something for them.” 

“Only thing we can do is just be here for them.” Jake kissed the top of your head before making a cheeky remark. “Commander Seresin.” He expected the elbow he copped to the ribs but it didn’t make it hurt any less. “Ohh—“ He doubled over for a moment as he stilled in his tracks, watching as you kept walking down the hall. “Okay, I definitely deserved that.” 

“Bet you thought it was gonna be you who made commander first, didn't ya hot shot?” You teased over your shoulder as your husband caught back up to you. “What was it again? Always the Lieutenant Junior, never gonna make it to Rear Admiral?” Quoting the remark Jake had made during one of your more heated arguments. “I’m sure you’ll catch up, Lieutenant.” 

“I liked you better when you were just a lieutenant commander—“ Jake taunted as you both rounded the corner. Laughing you just shook your head. “So cocky now—someone better tap you on the head before you fly too close to the sun there, Icarus.” 

“You know I don’t fly, Flyboy—“ You taunted back as you reached for Jake's hand, walking side by side towards the office of Dr. Sanders—she’d called you earlier that same morning to confirm the results of Jake's paternity test had come in and as had your fertility checks. “And before you say anything, no—I’ve seen the way you fly, I’m not getting in one of the tin cans with you.”

“Javy said he’d take you up if you wanted to?” 

“Oh fuck off—“ You couldn’t hold back to scoff. “You know I’m terrified of flying, never in a million years would you ever get me up in one of those things.” It had always been something you’d pushed to the wayside, but even when you flew commercially, you needed anxiety callers to keep you from panicking. “Thanks, but no thanks.” 

“Ah, there’s the lovely couple!” Dr. Sanders greeted you both with a wide smile as you approached her door. “Come on in, we have a lot to talk about.” 

“All good news I hope?” Jake questioned as he let you enter first and pulled your chair out for you. A kind but almost jarring gesture. The look on Dr. Sanders' face said it all though—it wasn’t. Fuck.

“Mr Seresin, how sure were you that this child wasn’t yours?” She asked and for a moment there you forgot how to breathe. Holy shit, was Jake actually a father? To another woman’s child? 

“Fairly certain I could back my entire career on the matter, why?” Jake still expressed so much confidence in the matter at hand, he never once wavered from his standpoint. It was almost admirable. He sat beside you, reaching out for your hand because he knew if anyone was freaking out right this second it was you—running the pad of his thumb across your palm. 

“Remind me to never second guess your better judgement, you’re not the father Jake—I’m not sure whether to say congratulations or my condolences but biologically speaking no, that child isn’t yours.” 

“That’s exactly what we wanted to hear.” Jake smiled as he turned his cocky attitude towards you fully. “Never doubted it for a minute.” 

“I’ve already informed the other party, she sends her best wishes.” Dr. Sanders sighed before she opened the tan folder on her desk. “Now—onto you little miss, what am I going to do with you.” She sent you a soft smile. This was never an easy part of her job, but education was key.

“Lay it on me doc, I can take it.” Your hand squeezed Jakes just a little tighter as you shifted in your seat. Knowing whatever Dr. Sanders was about to tell you was going to knock the wind from your lungs. 

“Y/n, you have blockage in your left fallopian tube, that means that when sperm are trying to make their way to an egg the blockage is stopping them before they can fertilise.” You really didn’t know what to say as you sat shocked in silence. “It doesn’t necessarily mean a natural conception isn’t possible, it just means that the chances are less likely and if you do ever decide to have children, prenatal vitamins and hormone treatments will aid in the process. And hopefully whatever sperm does make the journey, they take a right instead of left.” 

“Is there anything we can do to remove the blockage?” You asked softly, there was a small part of you who didn’t want to know the answer. But you asked regardless. 

“There’s surgical procedures we can schedule you in for—but they're all quite major and can lead to even more pressing complications like infertility overall.” Dr. Sanders explained. “It’s better to leave well enough alone and hope that the one you still have can come through, otherwise? There’s IVF treatments, adoption—“ Dr. Sanders made it abundantly clear to both you and Jack in her office that you were, in fact, not broken. She’d seen too many women come through her doors that wore the same face she was currently looking up. “You my dear are not broken, you just need to take a few extra steps.” 

“I’m—uh, can we take home all the information you have on all the options please?” Jake could hear it in your voice how scared and upset you truly were. All he could do in the moment though was reassure you that he was there, right beside you. Squeezing your hand to keep you grounded in reality. “We’ll go over everything at a later date.” 

“Of course, and if you ever need a consultation you know where to find me.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

“When are you gonna go up with Hawk?” Coyote smirked at you through the mirror of the free weight section of the base gym. Finishing your set of lateral raises, you huffed out a groan when you placed the weight down. It’s a bad dream by Good Charlotte played through the speaks as you looked at Javy through the mirror. His smugness rubbing you the wrong way immediately. 

“Who told you I ever would?” Two more weeks had passed since the events of the uranium mission and new postings were starting to trickle in. You’d yet to receive yours, but Jake had reciprocated his. A full time position here in North Island. If he wanted it. He’d get to accept—waiting to see what would come of you. 

“Uh, your husband?” Javy sent you a look as if to say who else would’ve told him that. “You two seem good these days?” He asked, still standing behind you in the free weight section, looking at you through the mirror. “Seem happy?” It was no secret to anyone that knew you and Jake that you had your demons, but over the last few weeks, amongst everything else going on—you’d seemed to work a few things out. 

“I think we’re gonna do a few couples therapy sessions but yeah, we’re good.” You smiled over at Jake who’d been doing some boxing with Payback. “I’ll never find a better part of me Javy, and honestly I’m starting to think that I'd rather be here for him than anywhere else in the world for myself.” 

“He loves you.” Javy smirked softly as you turned to face him. “I remember there was this one time I had to really reel him in from going fully off the rails just after you’d left.” You’d never heard Coyote speak his truth on the matter before. “He was fucked Hawk—he knew he drove you away but was just too stubborn to admit it to anyone around him let alone himself.” 

“I wasn’t innocent in the whole thing—“ You added as you let your eyes linger back over to Jake, he’d lost his shirt somewhere along the long as he held the pads for Payback. A thin sheen of sweat covering him head to toe. “But you like because and you love despite.” 

“You did what you had to do.” Javy added, only to change to conversation seconds later back to his original question. “Come in Hawk, one ride—come up with me for service checks?” 

“I dunno Coy—“ You tried to protest, your fear of flying all consuming. But it was to no avail.

“You can’t be a commander without having flown once—“ You’d technically made Commander rank four weeks ago, but the official ceremony wasn’t until January. It wasn’t a question you could keep avoiding any longer, both Jake and Javy pestering you to no end about this joy flight. Were you particularly interested? No—but if you had to do it once to get them off your back it seemed as though the answer had to inevitably be a yes.

“Honestly? What's the worst thing that could happen?” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @justanothermagicalsara @alexsisrebekah @stinkyjax @starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @love2write2626 @shanimallina87 @dempy @mintellaine @kiarabellerum31 @abaker74 @shadowsndaisies @haworldwidefunnyguy @peakascum @ssprayberrythings @averyhotchner

[skulla-rxcks]

✧☆Makeup Smudges☆✧

Pairing: Lee Felix x Fem reader

Rating: Explicit (Adult)

Genre: smut, slight fluff

Warnings: Oral sex, fingering, Use of nicknames, slight begging

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

Felix decides to get ready extra early for a photoshoot. Turns out there was WAY more time than needed. Including messing up and having to redo everything.

Ding dong. Strange, the rains pattering and no one’s usually in the studio at this time, last time I checked no one booked in. Oh well, might as well see who it is, I’ll just tell them to leave either way, well it depends on the person.

I get up from my desk, stretching my arms as i walk towards the door, it’s so dark i can barely see a thing. I sigh, opening the door and slowly peaking outside from a gap so the rain doesn’t come in. “Felix?” I open the door and let him in before closing it again.

My eyes begin to wander around the room for something to make this a nice experience and so be warms up due to the rain. I spot a blanket, which I give to him so he can warm up. I flick a switch then wait for the kettle to boil. Proceeding to put two tea bags in two cups, i grab a jug of milk and bring it over to the lounge area, i place the beverages on the table in front of us. Felix sighs as he sips his drink, opening his mouth as he’s getting ready to speak. “I’m so sorry for coming here at.. 12 in the morning. Look, I have a photo shoot in a few hours and I think it’ll be best to get ready now. I knew you’d be awake so I just came here” he explains, “sure, sit over there. I’ll be there soon.” I chuckle as i point towards the lit up studio mirror and gesture him to sit down.

I sigh and open my mouth to speak. “Oh my god. Sunshine, I’ve given you a makeover on both Tuesday and Thursday this week, you really wanna see me don’t you? Anyways, hair first I’m guessing?” Felix nods in response to his hair being done first.

I start brushing his hair then I work my fingers in a pattern to braid it.

“So when are you free for the next appointment?” A smile pulls at his lips; with the obvious intent of wanting to annoy me.

“You’re annoying.. you know you’re pretty much my only client. I’m free most of the time. Expect for Fridays, those are my ‘Felix free’ days.” Bloody hell. This man can act so much like a child sometimes,

It’s insane!

Being friends with the LEE FELIX is and has been more chaotic than I thought.

I place my hands on his shoulders. I see that stupid smile plastered on his face once again.

“Makeup time?” Felix asks, saying exactly what I was going to. Wouldn’t be surprised if he could dig into peoples brains and say what they were going to before they had the chance to. “Just sit on my bed it would be easiest, more comfortable than the couch or chairs. Plus, either way, I have more supplies in my room”.

We go into my bedroom, i sit Felix down on my bed. I place myself in his lap as i apply the foundation, powder and blush. Making a base for the makeup. I lean into him further, applying the eyeliner. I grab his face with my other hand as i steady it to draw the wing on.

“You’re closer than usual” he chuckles and opens his eyes, making me blush automatically as he stares into my eyes.

“Because i.. just shut up!” “You sure don’t look like you want me to shut up..” I feel coldness on my waist making me squirm, Felix’s hands slowly wrap around my waist, pulling me in close. “Hey hey hey, I’m just joking around. If you want I’ll sto-“

I cut him off by leaning into him more and cutting him off with my lips. My knees rest on either side of his hips. Beginning to pull away due to realisation of my actions, but it doesn’t work. I feel myself getting drawn towards Felix once again he pulls me closer so both of our lips are touching before turning me around and proceeding to pin me onto the wall. Letting me take a small breather too.

”I’m sorry this is so wrong in so many ways..”

Felix whispers, i watch his cheeks flushed from embarrassment. “I.. don’t care, we’re already this far and.. I need you. I need you so badly please.. Sunshine please..” his hand slides up my thigh as I say that. A shiver runs through me as he hooks his fingers under my panties.

“I wanna taste you so bad baby.. come here” Felix positions my legs around his neck so he can easily eat me to paradise.

Fuck, I can’t wait any longer. “I need your mouth honey..” a moan escapes my mouth, I push his head more into me. The noises get louder as they slip out of my mouth in response to him licking little flickers on my clit. He slides 2 fingers into my hole, pumping them in slowly before speeding up and repeatedly pounding my g spot. Felix moves up to my lips and kisses me slowly and lovingly as he fingers my cunt. “Mm… you.. mhmmm.. are you.. close?” He groans between kisses.

“ahh.. D-don’t stop.. nghh.. I’m about to-!” My head falls back against the wall along with my moans of ecstasy as I release my juices all over his fingers.

“I guess we have to redo my makeup in a bit, we have ages though. Let’s cuddle up with each other for now~ I’m tired.”

Felix groans and wraps his arms around me, snuggling into my chest before resting his eyes. I’ll have to wake him soon or I can redo his makeup while he’s asleep.

Originally posted on my ao3

© 2023 skulla_rxcks

[berryitalive]

As The Year Goes By// Chapter 2

Summary: Just a totally normal Fall for Pelican Town.

Warning: for brief domestic violence

Chapter 2: Fall

Fall 27, Year 0

   A plate smashed against a wall at 9 p.m on a Saturday evening. The broken pieces fell onto the carpet floor as two adults got into a screaming match, inevitably alerting neighbors to call the police. Bridgit locked herself in her bathroom as Liam pounded on the door. Several explicits and names were thrown her way as he continued to try to get in. The drunken slurring of his words filled the woman with as much hate as it did fear.

“Go the fuck away!” Bridgit screamed, her voice trembled as tears ruined her makeup. It was such a shame. She had spent hours in the bathroom mirror earlier that day trying to choose the perfect shade of eyeshadow, lipstick, mascara…etc, just for Liam to get mad at her for smiling at the waiter. So much for their three year anniversary. The sound of police knocking on the door could be heard but Liam did not care.

“Come. The. Fuck. Out!” Liam yelled. Dread filled the short woman’s body as the door was kicked in and the tall redheaded man dragged her out of the bathroom by her long, synthetic braids. She screamed before his hands wrapped around her throat. Luckily, her previous screams of terror were enough to encourage the cops to break in.

The woman was freed from Liam’s grasp while he attempted to dodge the Zuzu City policemen. Two officers pinned him against the wall, put him in handcuffs, and forced him outside. Another officer helped the traumatized 21 year old to her feet and led her to his car to take her statement. She struggled to speak; her throat was sore from the attempt on her life, her mind was still shaken up from being attacked by what she previously thought was the love of her life, and she could barely focus on anything the cop was saying.

Bridgit’s bare feet felt the hard concrete of the apartment’s parking lot as an officer spoke to her. She played with one of her ruined braids, desperately trying to ignore the neighbors peeking out their doors. The short brown woman rubbed her arm, dissociating as the angry-drunk yelling of her now ex-boyfriend came from the cop car. It felt like it took ten years for the law to leave and take her abusive ex with them. 

Silence filled the destroyed apartment. Bridgit crawled into her bed and sobbed, the adrenaline leaving her exhausted body. She spent the next hour laying in bed, staring at the ceiling before opening the drawer in the nightstand beside the bed. The young woman looked at the letter her late grandfather left her a few years ago and gently took it out to read it. 

“If you're reading this, you must be in dire need of a change. The same thing happened to me, long ago. I'd lost sight of what mattered most in life... real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong…”

Bridgit sighed and looked at her belongings. She slowly drifted into the bathroom and stared at her bruised arms and face while her fingers touched the spots where Liam had struck her. Clear as day were dark bruises against her neck where he had grabbed her throat. Her gaze moved to her hair. The long braids that went down her back were suddenly too painful to look at. ‘Dire need of a change’ was an understatement. She wanted to completely erase everything she currently knew.

Fall 3, Year 2

“Cows!” Jas cheered as she ran towards the barn. Bee’s orange cat, Cheddar, followed behind her hoping to be pet and given attention. Bee yawned as she looked out at her farm, dreading all the work she had to do today. 

“Bee, you are a life-saver. I gotta work today, Marnie is out of town till later this evening for a delivery in Zuzu city and Penny is home with a cold. I’ll come by to pick her up later.” Shane explained. He zipped up his Joja jacket as Bee shook her head.

“I will walk Jas home later, it's no big deal. I could use the company anyways. The beginning of the season is always the worst when it comes to work.” The farmer looked over at Jas. The girl was currently petting and talking to the goats and cows.

Shane gave a relieved smile and waved as he left for work. Bee groaned as she put her gloves on and grabbed her golden hoe. The woman immediately got to work. Dead crops were removed and new seeds were put down. She harvested the wheat, replaced them with seeds, then watered them. Her sprinklers were installed swiftly to make the rest of the season easier.

“Jas! Let’s take a walk to Pierre’s, yeah?” Bee called to her. The child skipped over to her and took her hand. 

“What are you buying from Mr. Pierre?” Jas asked as they began their walk.

“Well, I’m going to bring him today’s wheat that I didn’t use for the kegs. And I’m going to buy more seeds.”

“What kind of seeds?”

“Bok choy, some more wheat, pumpkins, and fairy roses.”

Jas’s face lit up. “I love fairy roses! Can I help you plant them?”

“Yes you can!” Bee smiled.

The day seemed to go by fast. The seeds were bought and brought back to the farm. Bee planted the main crops by herself then called Jas over to help with the fairy roses.

“Why are we planting these near the bee houses?” Jas asks as she carefully places the seeds in their plot.

“The pollen the bees collect from the flowers can affect the taste of their honey. Last season they made sunflower honey. This season they’ll make fairy rose honey.”

“Can I have a fairy rose when the bees are done using them?” She asks and takes off the small gardening gloves. 

Bee waters the seeds and nods. “Yep! They should be done with them at the end of the season.” She looks down at the watch on her wrist. “It’s only three and we are already done! You’re a great help, Jas.”

Jas dusts the dirt off her dress and smiles. The farmer puts away the farming equipment and leads Jas into the house for a well deserved dinner. “Does Uncle Shane come here for dinner a lot?” Jas asks.

Bee shakes her head. “Shane doesn’t come here too often at all. He came to help me last week because I had, most likely, whatever cold Penny has now. He is a very good friend.” She cuts the pizza in even slices and places two on Jas’s plate. 

‘Technically speaking he's my only friend.’ The farmer thought to herself. ‘It would definitely benefit me to start talking to the rest of Pelican Town. I mean, why doesn't anyone approach me? Am I too stand-offish?’

So lost in thought, Bee doesn’t notice Jas getting up to turn the oven off. “You forgot the oven was on.” She stated, taking a bite of pizza. The woman looks over at the oven.

“Thank you. Once you finish up we’ll start walking to your house. Shane should be at home by now.”

The girls made their way to Marnie’s ranch. As they entered the large home, it seemed to be empty. Jas went into her room to put the toys she had brought with her away. Bee walked over to the kitchen and noticed Marnie standing in Shane’s room. A worried expression attached to the older woman’s face. As the farmer entered the room she saw Shane lying on the ground, unconscious. 

“Bridgit, could you do something? He’s passed out cold.” His aunt sighed.

Bee grabbed a cup of water from the kitchen and dumped it onto Shane’s face. He yelled and rose up from the floor. Marnie pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Shane! What’s the matter with you? All you do anymore is mope around your room and drink beer!” She yelled. Suddenly, Bee felt out of place and very uncomfortable.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Shane responded weakly. 

“I’m worried. What’s your plan? Don’t you ever think about the future?” Marnie asks. Jas slowly entered the room and clutched her aunt's hand, concerned for her godfather.

“Plan..? Hopefully I won’t be around long enough to need a plan.” He responded honestly. A loud gasp was heard which was followed by sobbing as Jas ran out of the room. She was followed by Marnie leaving Bee and Shane alone.

“Jas…” The depressed man stared at the door. “I’m sorry.” He collapsed to his knees and let out a frustrated yell as he struggled to keep it together. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps as he tried to control himself. Bee went to touch his shoulder but stopped as he suddenly glared up at her. The woman took a step back.

“Shane-”

“Just go, Bee.” He said shakily. His hands trembled as he clutched his hair.

“Promise me you won’t go out and hurt yourself.” Bee responded softly. 

“Just get out, Bridgit. Please.”

She avoided looking at her friend as she left his room, closing the door behind her. Worry consumed her mind, all she could think about was how broken Shane looked just now. Marnie stopped her before she made it out of the house. 

“Be careful on your way home, dear. I’ll keep an eye on him.” 

“Sure. I think I forgot to water my pumpkin seeds today. I’m gonna...go do that.” 

Bee left the ranch and wandered home. It was dark outside by the time she made it into the house and into her bed. The woman wrapped herself in a blanket and stared at the ceiling, wondering if there was something better she could have said. If there was something better she could have done. But instead, she left her only friend alone in his room. Bee knew he told her to leave, but she couldn’t help but feel like she should have comforted him better.

Fall 16, Year 2

   Arranging a grange display was proving to be much more difficult than Bee initially thought it would be. She placed her fairy rose honey in the center before deciding where to put the other items. She had quality artisan goods and animal products waiting to be placed on the grange display and judged by Mayor Lewis.

The farmer glanced at Pierre’s display and sighed. He and Marnie were definitely tough competition, not to mention some of the fish Willie had on his display were beautiful. Fuck it. Her fresh produce would speak for itself no matter how it was displayed. Bee made her final arrangements and took a step back to look it over. A smile made its way to her face. It looked pretty good!

“That’s a nice looking pumpkin, Bridgit. Never knew you had a green thumb.” A very familiar voice spoke from behind her. Bee suddenly felt nauseous as she turned around to look at the tall redheaded man that stood behind her. Her smile turned into a grimace and her heart sank.

Liam yawned as he looked down at his ex-girlfriend. He continued as if his being there was nothing special. 

“That bus ride? Fuckin brutal. I mean, I would have taken my new car but there is nowhere to park in this dumbass town. You really gave up Zuzu for this shithole?” 

Bee felt her chest tighten as the hurt and anger of their past flooded back. She had hoped to never cross paths with him again but fate apparently had other plans as their eyes were locked in a stand-off.

“Get the fuck away from me, William,” She spat. “I don’t know why you’re here and I don’t care. There is no reason for you to find me and speak to me.”

The man laughed as Bee tensed.

“Please. Don’t act like I’m here for you. My girl is running the slingshot booth and she invited me to tag along to enjoy the fair. Ya know, I was just trying to be nice and say hi. I forgot how uptight you are about everything. Lighten up.”

Bee knew she could be the bigger person. Just ignore him and he will go away. She closed her eyes. Just ignore him and he will go away.

“Do you try to kill her too?” She asked right as Liam turned to walk off.

Time seemed to freeze once he turned back to face her. His hazel eyes seemed tinted with malice as they bored into her brown ones with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. The expression on Liam’s face was equal to that of a predator eyeing his prey.

“Oh wow…I have missed your creative mind, Honeybee. But let me be clear, I never tried to kill you and I would never lay a finger on Brooke since she actually loves me. Which you never did. If you loved me you wouldn't have smiled at a fuckin waiter on our anniversary. You also would have stuck around for me to do better if you loved me. Instead you ran off to fuckin’ hillbillyville!”

“Oh bullshit. You can't sit here and try to convince me you didn't try to kill me or put me in a hospital. I filed a police report, I went to clinics for my throat, I left my job to get away from you…Someone who loves me wouldn’t damage my larynx.”

Liam grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him.

 “I DID LOVE YOU.” He growled.

Bee tried pulling her arm away but his grip only tightened. She looked around in a panic as she realized no one was nearby. Her eyes met his once more, and as they did he leaned in close to her face.

“You are a fucking disease. You will drive every man to do what I did because you, Bridgit, are fucking insufferable. I will be the only man to have ever wanted you and Yoba, what a mistake that was,” Liam let go of her arm and stood up straight. 

“And if you tell Brooke a damn thing, if you even look in her direction, I’ll burn you and your farm down.”

Bee could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Her breath was coming in shallow gasps as she felt like she may collapse at any moment. Angry and panicked thoughts raced through her mind as her body was overwhelmed with terror. The woman’s muscles were tense, her hands were trembling, and she was sweating as if it were 100 degrees outside.

She tried to keep from spiraling. Was he just trying to sound tough? Does he know where her farm is? What if he broke into her house? Bee teared up as she tried to pull herself together. 

The farmer yelped as she felt a hand on her shoulder, pulling her away from the grange display she was leaning over. She felt a surge of adrenaline and a flash of fear. Without thinking, she turned and threw a punch at whoever was standing behind her. The culprit quickly jumped back, narrowly missing the swing.

“Woah! What the hell?!” A startled voice yelped. 

Bee stared in shock as her eyes focused and she realized it was just Sam. Sebastian and Abigail stood a few feet away from them, snickering to themselves. The woman looked around confused as she realized Liam was nowhere to be seen.

“Sam! Fuck, I am so sorry! You startled me, I thought you were someone else.” Bee explained as she finally managed to calm down.

“Whoever that someone else is should definitely watch out. Sam almost got knocked on his ass.” Abigail snickered. The blonde rolled his eyes before shoving his hair out of his face.

“I called out to you a few times cause you looked like you were gonna vomit. We saw you on our way to go smoke, wanna join?” Sam asked as Sebastian and Abigail continued walking towards the river.

“Oh, thanks for the offer but I try not to smoke cigarettes anymore.” Bee gave an awkward smile as she adjusted the rose-honey in the display.

Sam chuckled. “Different kind of smoke.”

Bee stared at Sam. “In that case, I’m right behind you.”

The four of them giggled as they passed a joint around, remaining out of sight from the rest of the festival attendees. 

Sebastian coughed as he handed the joint to Bee. The woman inhaled the smoke and passed it to Abigail. 

“Man, I wish Joja would like, burn down or something. Morris has been on my ass about the stupidest crap.” Sam complained as he was handed the rolled up marijuana. 

“Oh, I didn't know you worked at JojaMart too.” Bee replied.

“Unfortunately.” The blonde said before coughing while tossing the roach in a cup. “This is out.”

“Too? So you do have a thing with Shane. That's 20, Sebastian.” Abigail smirked.

“A thing? You mean like friends? Sure we're friends but that's it. We're not like, seeing each other if that's what you think.” Bee explained.

The three stoned friends looked at each other and laughed. Bee groaned as blood rushed to her cheeks.

“Would you consider us your friends?” Sebastian asks while Abigail begins rolling another paper.

“Well, this is the first time I've been around any of you after living here for a while. I feel like saying we're all friends wouldn't be correct? I mean yet! I want to be friends with you guys for sure, just- socializing is hard for me.”

Sebastian chuckled and passed the lighter to the younger purple-haired woman so she could light the joint. Abigail lit the joint, took a puff, and passed it to the farmer.

“What I mean to ask is would you go as far to dance with us like you did with Shane at the Luau?”

“Well that was different- plus it's just dancing, you know? Dancing doesn't have to be romantic. If we all started break dancing right now would that mean we were seeing each other?” Bee retorted before taking another inhale of the joint, and passing it to Sebastian.

“We'd be seeing each other make a fool of ourselves.” Sebastian joked and took a small inhale on the joint. He turned to hand the joint to Sam. 

As Sam took a hit on the joint he began to wave his hand in the air.

“Speak of the devil! Shane! Coworker bestie! Shane, come hit this!” Sam giggled. 

They could all see the unamused expression on the older man's face as he took his time walking over to them. Once he noticed the farmer sitting alongside them it changed into a look of confusion. 

“Since when did you smoke pot?” Shane asked Bee as Sam gave the joint to him. 

Bee watched without responding as the man inhaled the smoke. There was something about watching him blow smoke from the side of his mouth that had her damn near drooling.

“Hello?” Shane waved his hand in front of her face.

“Hey.” Bee smiled up at him.

“Yeah, she's done.” Abigail laughed, making the others chuckle. Shane's eyes stayed on the farmer as he passed the joint.

“I want to go back to the festival, you all coming?” Abigail stood up and tossed the last roach away. Sam and Sebastian got up and followed her back into the town center.

Bee slowly stood up and looked over at Shane. He shoved his hands into his jacket pocket and began walking back towards the grange displays.

“I didn't know you hung out with those three.” Bee said.

“I don't. But Sam's the only coworker I can stand and he smokes me out whenever it's a really rough shift.”

The farmer nodded. There was a long silence as they walked. Bee kept a smile on her face as she felt warm and cozy from the pot they just smoked. The previous anxiety and fear from Liam being around seemingly subdued. 

“Listen, Bee, I'm sorry about the other day. I just needed some space.” Shane apologized, his eyes avoiding hers.

“I understand. I'm sorry for splashing water on you. I probably could've just shaken you awake.” Bee chuckled awkwardly. 

Shane shrugged. “Buh, it's in the past now. Let's go see who won the grange display this year, yeah?”

As they walk over to the displays, Bee notices the prismatic shard she had placed in the center was missing. Mayor Lewis was making his way over to her display as she looked around for the shard. Who would steal her crystal? A bitter scoff slipped from her mouth. It was probably the asshole who made his presence known earlier. Still, maybe there was a chance it was somewhere under the grange displays.

Shane noticed his friend looking around frantically for something and saw the giant space in the display. Not thinking much about it, he sets an egg where the shard should be. As mayor Lewis walks up to the showcase of produce he smiles.

 “Very impressive, Miss Bee.”

The woman gives an awkward smile in response as the mayor inspect’s Pierre’s produce. Shane took the egg back and placed it back in his pocket.

“You just carry eggs around?” Bee asks the man.

“I’ve seen you run around with a plate of spaghetti.”

“Fair enough. But thanks Shane. I don’t know what happened to the prismatic shard I had though.”

Shane gives a small shrug in response as Lewis begins to announce the winner. “In second place we have…Farmer Bee!”

“Hey, not bad for the replacement being an egg.” Bee chuckled. No use in feeling defeated. Besides, seeing Shane help her was almost a win in itself.

“Still, it's pretty messed up for someone to steal your shard like that.” Shane gave her a small pat on the back. “Anyways, I need to find Jas. I’ll see ya later?”

“Of course. Later, Shane.” Bee smiled as Shane walked away. Despite not getting first place, she felt good. She was still stoned and getting the nice feelings that come from enjoying pot but deeper she felt cared for by Shane. And that was a better high than anything pot could offer.

Fall 20, Year 2

Bee woke to the sound of the phone ringing and roaring thunder. She rose from her bed and stumbled over to the loud red telephone before picking it up and holding it to her ear. 

"Mm-Hello?" Bee yawned.

“Bridgit?” Marnie’s worried voice came from the other end of the line.

“Hey Marnie, is everything okay?” The farmer asked as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

“I’m not sure. It’s Jas’s birthday and Shane said he would take the afternoon shift to spend the morning with all of us but he’s not here. And his supervisor said he’s not at work either. It’s already near 9 am…I told Jas he got called in but I really don’t know where he could be.” 

Bee was silent as she felt a knot in her stomach. Her mind raced with thoughts of worst-case scenarios of where Shane could be. The feeling of dread began to take over her body, completely overpowering the annoyance she had at waking up late.

“I’ll find him. Tell Jas happy birthday from me, yeah?” She did not waste time waiting for a response and hung up the telephone. The farmer threw on a jacket and rushed out of the door, not bothering to pull the hood over her head. 

The rain was heavy and the thunder was deafening. The storm showed no sign of relenting either. Her hair was soaked and her clothes stuck to her skin but none of it mattered to her, she just wanted Shane to be okay. He was somewhere in Pelican Town and she was determined to find him.

Bee’s heart was racing as she ran around Pelican Town, the coldness of the rain seeping into her bones. She had checked the beach, the train station, and even Joja just to make sure he was truly not there. As she entered Cindersap Forest she took a deep breath. It was a lot of ground to cover but damn it, she was determined.

Her feet splashed through puddles and mud, ruining her shoes, but she couldn't care any less. The wind whipped her hair into a frenzy as she called out Shane’s name. As she made her way towards the sewer near the end of the forest, she finally spotted her very drunk friend lying near the cliff surrounded by beer cans.

“Shane!” Bee shouted. She ran over to him then bent over, exhausted from hunting for the man for the past two hours. Her hair was ruined and she was soaked to the bone but it was all worth finding him.

 “Bridgit…” Shane moaned from where he was laying. Bee’s eyes softened and her brows furrowed as she sat down by him. “I-I’m sorry.”

Shane continued after his drunken hiccup, “M…My life. It’s a pathetic joke…look at me…Why do I even try?” He sobbed with his face against the wet ground. All Bee could do in the moment was just sit there and listen to his crying.

“I’m too small and stupid to…to take control of my life. I…I’m just a piece of soiled garbage flittering in the wind…I’ve been coming here often lately…looking down…here’s a chance to finally take control of my life…these cliffs. But…but I’m too scared and anxious…just like always.” Shane cried. Bee stood up, her eyes glassy and rimmed with red.

“Bee…all I do is work, sleep and drink…t…to dull the feelings of self-hatred. Why should I even go on? Tell me…T-tell me why I shouldn’t roll off this cliff right now.”

The soaked farmer gazed down at the drunk and depressed man in front of her. She looked down from the cliff and sighed. Was there even a right response to this? He was a drunken mess and probably more soaked than she was. Still. She needed to say something.

“If you decide that there’s no reason to keep going, right now, you will never get to find out if you were wrong later. It would be bullshit to try and feed you arbitrary reasons to not roll off this cliff because life is fucking brutal and its hard. Sometimes it's hard for no good reason...But either way, I’m here for you Shane.” Bee responded. It was the best she could manage to say while being cold and worried.

“Thanks…I appreciate that…I really do.” Shane said softly. He clutched his stomach and groaned. “Bee…I think you should take me to the hospital now.”

The woman helped Shane to his feet, throwing his arm over her shoulder and supported him all the way out of the forest and to Harvey’s clinic. The doctor looked at them both with wide eyes as puddles formed around their feet, soaking his floors. Bee looked at the older brunette, her eyes full of concern as she pleaded for his help and was relieved when Harvey helped her get him to a room.

It was evening by the time she left the clinic. Harvey had pumped Shane’s stomach and rehydrated him. The doctor had also expressed his concern for Shane’s mental health which was the more pressing issue. She wondered what could have happened, had she not found Shane in time. Even if he decided not to jump off the cliff the man could have died from alcohol poisoning. 

Bee got into her house and sighed. The first thing she did was dry off and change into warm clothes. Then she went to her phone and called Marnie.

“Is he okay?” Marnie asked immediately. 

“He is now. He’s over at the hospital with Harvey. He was in rough shape.” Bee explained. It was silent for a moment but she could hear his aunt sniffling.

“I’m glad you found him.” She finally spoke.

“Me too. I think I’m gonna head to bed early. Night, Marnie.” The farmer hung up the phone and sighed. Her body was sore from running around town in the rain searching for the 28 year old. As she lay in her bed, holding her cat close to her, all she could think about was how defeated her friend looked as he cried to her. 

Fall 21, Year 2

   Loud knocking came from the front door. Bee stretched as she arose from her bed before slowly making her way to the front of the house. There better be a good reason someone is here this early. She opens her door with a tired and slightly aggravated expression.

"Hey…" Shane said. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Oh man…how do I say this? I'm really sorry for what happened down at the cliffs…that was…embarrassing."

Bee's expression had shifted the moment she saw him. So many emotions were bubbling inside her like a pot of water about to boil over. Her eyes began to burn, tears threatening to spill onto her shirt while she clenched her fist. She could barely make eye contact with the man.

"Bee," He moved closer to her. "Say something will ya?" 

Suddenly she pulled Shane into an embrace. Her arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tightly while her face was buried into his green shirt. She felt his arms hesitantly return the gesture.

"Please don't ever scare me like that again. I'm so glad you're still here." Bee's voice cracked as she broke their hug.

“Wow, it was that serious, huh? I can hardly remember…” Shane admitted. “I’ve decided I want to see a therapist. Harvey got me in touch with a colleague of his. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for taking care of me and I want you to know I’m going to take things more seriously from now on. I don’t want to be a burden on anyone…”

The farmer smiled softly. “That's really good Shane. I'm just relieved you're okay.”

Shane nodded and returned the smile. “I’ll catch you around, Bee.” 

Autumn leaves continued to fall and blow around in the wind as the older man took his leave. She watched as he continued down the path before heading into her greenhouse and beginning her chores.

1

[myshredda]

Different ways the clump shows physical affection (since they can't kiss bc no one has lips lol):

Headbutting: This was developed by the yellow ones. It's a perfect way to show how much they love each other while also satisfying that sibling urge for violence lol Eventually, they also started doing it to their dads, though Yellow does it much more often. He'll just come zooming into the room and ram his head into their middle as hard as he can. Which absolutely sends Duck flying every time bc he's just so small but no matter how much he yells at him to stop it, he continues to do it anyway. Green does it much softer and basically just lays his head on them for a second before walking away.

Red and Duck have picked up on this habit too, though in a much less violent way, and headbutt each other as well as their kids. With the kids it's easy and they know what it means and everybody's happy. With each other it's another wonderful way to expresses their feelings without acknowledging them. Duck will claim that he wasn't trying to touch their heads together, he was just trying to move around but Red is a bumbling oaf that can't get out of the way. Red will pretend to bend down and pick something up, bonk their heads, then make horrible short jokes about him forgetting Duck is so small until he's practically foaming at the mouth with rage. ...They're still working on it...

Snuggling: So you know when cats rub their heads on you and you feel like you been given the most precious gift in the world? This is that. It's mostly used after Duck and Red figure out their feelings. It's softer and more intimate than headbutting and is good for laying in bed or sitting on the couch together. Just being able to enjoy each other's company and be close a bit.

This isn't really for the kids but sometimes after Yellow's had a nightmare, Red will bring him to his bed and just rub their heads together until he stops crying. Duck doesn't do it to the kids because he claims they don't do anything good enough to deserve it and Green still isn't used to that much gentle affection and avoids it.

Biting: Again, this is mostly for the adults. Red's cuteness aggression will get the better of him sometimes and he'll just have to do a little chomp on his clump mates' heads (because he's so tall). He knows he's very big and has very sharp teeth though so he's always extra extra gentle. It's not a super common occurrence but he mostly does it to Duck (after they figure out their feelings), even though he yells at him for being improper and rude, and then Yellow, who just giggles. Green doesn't enjoy being bitten even if it's soft again because that gentle affection still confuses him.

Duck bites too and he doesn't watch how hard he does it. He's like a cat where they'll be having a totally peaceful sweet moment, Red has his hand in his feathers and for once they're just being in love with each other, and then out of nowhere he'll just bite his hand and refuse to let go. It hurts and always ruins the moment as they go back to fighting but he can't help himself. He needs to bite him. Thankfully he doesn't bite the kids anymore. Eventually Red gets used to it and tries to salvage the moments the best he can.

The kids don't bite their dads because that just feels wrong and only bite each other when they're fighting.

TLDR: basically they're all cats lol

These are all canon to me: in my heart, in my soul, in my deep understanding of the world and it's delicate intricacies.

Headbutting is my personal favorite because I do that! In real life! There's something oddly intimate about staring into someone else eyes with forehead to forehead connection. LOVE the idea of Yellow doing drive-by headbutting to Red's stomach or Duck's chest and just putting them out of commission for 10 minutes while they remember how to breath. Green and Yellow will probably knock into each other like mountain goats and Duck shrieks that he's not taking them to the hospital if they have a concussion.

Red and Duck doing the cat head rub thing is so cute I can't look directly at that part of this ask, but the bit about Red doing it to Yellow after a nightmare has got me crying tears of blood and pure, liquid joy (also blood). If Green ever gets to the point where he's comfortable with physical affection Red's probably also going to cry after Green lets him do it, like sniffling and sobbing and rubbing his face against his baby's head while Duck is like Wtf is WRONG with you and Yellow headbutts him for ruining the moment.

Them biting to show love is also canon. Becky and Joe told me, my uncle works at channel 4 and he also told me that. Duck spreads rabies as a way of marking his territory and claiming the clumpmates as his. Becky told me that too. Also she told me Yellow's real age is- *gets sniped by Lesley*

[bowiebond]

TW dubcon/mention of SA? (Ace character who doesn’t know they’re ace is belittled into sex — it doesn’t go into detail)

Jason never realising he’s asexual until he marries a girl and goes “oh fuck I waited until marriage like a good Christian boy, but I’m supposed to do the deed now…”

He holds off as long as possible. Makes excuses. Until it’s been months and his wife snaps at him.

“What, is your dick broken or something?! Am I not attractive enough for you? I married you in hopes of having an easy well off life with children that I could put my love into and you can’t even give me that?!”

Jason relents. He has pride and he wants to hold onto it and��well, it’s uncomfortable. It feels nice, physically, but he can’t focus on the pleasure when his skin is crawling, his stomach churning.

She’s gorgeous. Beautiful, really. He knew that. He doesn’t understand why his body doesn’t.

She doesn’t make him do it again for a while. Waits a few weeks but when there’s no positive test, she asks him to try again.

It takes four tries before she falls pregnant, and Jason is relieved. She’s gotten her baby. She doesn’t need him for anything more than a paycheck and a father now. She seems happy with that; he’s come to realise she never loved him. It explained the quick engagement. He had been swept up in his desire for a girlfriend, a wife who he’d come home to and kiss on the cheek and maybe watch a movie with that he never considered that maybe she didn’t want that too.

It feels like a break up, Jason thinks. He’s only been through one before with his highschool sweetheart, Chrissy.

Jason wonders if maybe he’s gay. It’s a thought that makes his gut clench and his throat tighten up. Hell, he even tries to watch some stuff. It does little to nothing for him. He stares hours at his screen, switching between pornos, straight and gay and even lesbian, but nothing strikes him as appealing. He half-considers the videos where men would pet their kneeling boys, interested in the gentle flushes it would induce, but it didn’t stir anything that made his dick hard. It just made his heart race, really, the intimacy of it.

He decides he’s not gay. Just…fundamentally broken. Or maybe he had been born for priesthood, celibate for life. Fuck, that sounded like a good life to him.

So he does it. He joins the priesthood. He’s married, sure, but it’s an easy excuse to why he can’t sleep with her anymore. He’s devoted to this way of life, he told her. To God. And he was. He had grown up looking towards the sky.

After a year, she divorces him. It’s hard, and rocky, but she finds a new man within two years who she actually does love.

He gets a son anyway, Joseph, even if he only sees him three days out of the week and he’s unable to stay the night most days because his mother is clingy regarding her baby. The few times he does get his boy for the night, he curls the five year old into his chest and reads him storybooks until he nods off, all chubby cheeks and tousled blond hair like his father.

He hopes he never grows up. Never gets bigger. Because one day he won’t want to share a bed with his father, be held by him, or even visit because he had his stepdad in the picture and his ex-wife has snippy comments on her tongue about him at the ready always.

But he gets older. Of course he does. Joseph is thirteen when he begs Jason to take him to see a metal band.

“I know, ‘it’s the devils music’, but they’re really good, Dad. Can’t you just do this for me, for once? Mom won’t let me go without an adult and she refuses to go with me. Or let David.” His stepdad. Joseph scowls as he spits the name. David isn’t all that bad, but he refuses to argue with his wife, and it gets on the boys nerves. Jason’s also aware there’s a bit of favouritism when it came to Joseph and their other two kids, Lauren and Peter.

Jason can’t say no. Not when his son is obviously being slighted instead of just being told no by his mother. She could be a real petty woman at times. What did Jason ever see in her?

“Fine.”

“Yes! Thank you, dad!” Joseph is buzzing the rest of the week, even offering to pay for his fathers ticket out of his saved up pocket money since Jason hadn’t been keen, but like hell was he taking his kids money.

“Keep it, ‘Seph. Buy yourself a shirt or something from the concert instead, okay?” Jason ignores that it’s a petty move on his end too. He knows his ex-wife will chuck a fit at their son wearing heavy metal merch, but the idea delights Jason. The satisfaction would be better than sex by tenfold. He would know.

Jason almost regrets coming when he sees the crowd. They’re all draped in black with wildly coloured hair and he feels like a sore thumb with his baby blue polo and white cardigan tied around his shoulders, blond hair swept back. He also feels a tad old for the crowd, but he sees a few men and women much older than him, so at least he knew he wasn’t the only grown up.

God. A priest at a heavy metal concert. What a scenario.

“Dad, dad, they’re coming on stage, oh my god.” Joseph is jumping on his toes, trying to see over the crowd and Jason, who never dropped his strict regime, figured he could chance one evening of carrying a barely teen on his shoulders. Joseph almost falls at first and laughs when Jason clamps down his hands. He’s heavier than he used to be and it makes Jason’s heart (and shoulders) ache.

He squinted over the heads to look at the stage and found himself feeling a strange sense of familiarity as a shaggy dark haired man in black and chains walked onto stage, taking the microphone in hand.

“How’re my undead fans going? You all still alive?” The crowd roared, including Joseph, and it made Jason wince at the volume. The leads voice is nice though, low and just a tad rough around the edges. “Any newbies in the crowd? First show with us?” Joseph cheered along with a few others and the lead laughed.

He pointed at Joseph, the easiest one to spot with his blond hair and elevated height.

“Good to see some fresh faces. Little white sheep here needs a shirt, seriously, you look like you’re about to puke from excitement, kid.”

“I love you, Eddie Munson!” Joseph screamed and Jason’s eyes widened in shock, jaw going slack. He almost dropped Joseph before gripping tighter.

Prays be to God.

Eddie cackled, almost falling with how low he leant back. He swung back up with a weird grace to him, hair swinging forward with the force. He stomped towards the edge and pointed harder at him.

“You — you, kid, you buy a shirt and I’ll fuckin’ sign it, you got spirit, squirt!” He spun around, still laughing as he grabbed the microphone stand. He looked over his shoulder after a moment with wide eyes. “Apologises to the parental figure. But coarse language is advised.” He grinned and grabbed his guitar with flourish, tossing the strap over his head.

“Enough talk, let’s fuckin’ let loose.” The lights shut off with a scream from fans before red bled onto the stage, fog curling around Eddie’s shadowed figure, three more figures making themselves known behind instruments.

“Let’s knock open our Coffin, boys.” The purr rumbles through the speakers, followed by a low vibrating note that makes Jason’s breath hitch and hair stand on end.

The concert is a blur. Jason had taken a few songs to get used to the volume, but he couldn’t lie. They were good. With the crowd, with their instruments — Eddie’s voice could go from warm honey to gruff, animalistic almost, within moments. It was an experience, that was for sure.

“I have to get a shirt, dad. He said he’d sign it. You think he really will?” Joseph is shaking all over and Jason is only mildly concerned. He’s pretty sure he’s shaking too, but it’s in a good way?

“I’m sure he will.” Jason decides he should probably avoid going backstage with his son. Eddie and him hadn’t been…friendly. Less than. Jason had thought Eddie annoying as all hell and he’s pretty sure Eddie hated his guts.

Unfortunately, Joseph’s too young to go backstage alone according to the bodyguard.

“Please, dad? It’ll only be a few minutes, I promise, this is a once in a life time. I’ll never ask for anything ever again!” He begs and Jason had already folded to his whims when he said please.

Seeing Eddie up close is staggering. Makes his heart stop and start and sputter like an old car. When Eddie looks at him, he knows he’s put a name to the face in moments.

“Carver?”

Joseph’s eyes widen as he looks between Eddie and his father.

“Munson.” He greets back. Joseph’s mouth fell open in shock.

“You know Eddie Munson, dad?” There’s stars in his sons eyes and Jason wants to kick his younger self in the rear for being a dick to Eddie because now his son is going to reap what he sowed in his youth.

“I…We went to school together.” He thinned his lips and Eddie was watching him intensely. It made his cheeks hot. He had never been able to hide his embarrassment or shame with how pale he was.

“You haven’t changed.” Eddie remarked, eyeing his outfit with a smirk. Jason bristled at his words.

“And I see you’re still a—“ A scowl was growing but it fell apart when his son spoke.

“You were friends with Eddie Munson, dad?! Oh my god, I can’t believe this, this is the best day of my life! My boring priest dad was friends with a rockstar!” Joseph’s voice cracked, squeaky like every boy starting puberty. Jason’s heart plummeted. Anxiety swirled in his gut as he realised he was about to disappoint his only child, opening his lips to refute his claim.

“Oh, yeah, totally, little dude.” Eddie interjects, grinning. “We go wayyyy back. Best friends, really.” It was a bold faced lie and even his band mates seemed to agree it was a total farce from the looks on their faces, ranging from bewilderment to eye rolling exhaustion.

“Why did you stop being friends then?” Joseph frowned.

“I got busy with my career, obviously!” Eddie gestured to their surroundings. “I didn’t have a lot of time to phone and catch up. Totally my bad, really.” Holy shit, he was really going the full mile on this one. Jason wasn’t sure whether to applaud him or not.

Joseph elbowed his fathers side and looked at him expectantly.

“Maybe you should get back in contact so you have some actual friends. Ones that are cool.” He barely whispered it and Jason’s ears burned.

“I have friends. Everybody at church is my friend, Joseph.” He snipped out between clenched teeth, glaring at his son who scoffed. When had he become such a snarky kid? He used to be so sweet.

“That doesn’t count.”

“I’m too busy, Joseph.”

“You don’t even do anything when I don’t visit—“

“I do so—“

“Yeah but not like, a lot—“

“Hey, quit punching your old man while he’s down. You should know better.” Eddie laughed, pinching at the blond boys Corroded Coffin tee that he had thrown on over the top of his other shirt. “Come here, let me sign this thing. I’ll even add in a Polaroid you can frame.” He winked and Joseph’s eyes sparkled.

“Please!”

“So he has manners when he wants something.” Jason muttered. Eddie grinned and pulled Joseph closer, signing the shirt with his name. He called over his bodyguard to take a photo. Jason stood off to the side awkwardly, waiting to leave.

“C’mon, you too, old pal.” Eddie pulls him in last second and Jason’s pretty sure his wide eyes will be immortalised on his sons dresser, along with the blonds mused fringe flipped up against Eddie’s frizzy dark locks. He looks ridiculous, he bemoans to himself as each member autographs the Polaroid.

“Okay, come on, we have to head home now or your mother will throw a fit.” Jason ushers Joseph to say his goodbyes.

“Tell your wife I said hi, Carver.” Eddie drolls on his way out and Jason huffs.

“She’s not my wife.” And he was glad for it.

Just as they made for the door, Jason felt a hand on his wrist. He jumps and nearly trips over his own damn feet when Eddie tugs his arms around to expose his forearm, squiggling down several digits with his tongue peeking out between his lips, concentrated.

Jason tugged his arm away with his heartbeat in his ears when Eddie caught his eye, grinning.

“Call me sometime. You know. To catch up.” He winked and Jason was thrown for a moment at the gesture.

“Uh…sure.” He cleared his throat and left quickly with Joseph who was gushing about the fact that his father had Eddie Munson’s phone number.

Jason doesn’t intend to call it. So he doesn’t. It’s two weeks later and he’s happy to forget all about the meeting when a familiar face walks right through his church doors.

“What’re you doing here?” He hissed quietly, making his way down the aisle. It was after his service, so there wasn’t anybody except Thomson, who always stayed an extra hour to pray alone. His wife was going through a hard battle with cancer, so Jason never disturbed him. Sometimes, he’d even pray with him, or before bed, he’d pray on his behalf.

“Checking if I burn when I enter holy ground.” Eddie mimicked his whisper, a crooked grin on his lips and hands stuffed in the pockets of his tight black pants. “Seems I’m still safe after fifteen years.”

“How did you even know this was my church?” Jason looked back towards Thomson and huffed, leading Eddie back out of the door and closing it behind them. He wasn’t going to disturb the poor man. “Are you stalking me or something?”

“Your son told me.” Eddie shrugged and Jason blinked a few times.

“How did my son tell you?”

“You didn’t use my number, but he sure did.” Eddie smirked and Jason’s face burned with realisation. Joseph must have memorised the number on his forearm. That sneaky brat.

“I’m so sorry.” He sighed. “He’s a good kid but he’s nosy at the worst times. Gets it from his mother. I’m sure you have plenty of things to be doing instead of entertaining a thirteen year old.”

Eddie snorted.

“Kid worships the ground I walk on. I’m happy to entertain him.” There was a long pause between them, and Jason hated how cool Eddie seemed with it. Jason could never stand the quiet.

“I’m…also sorry about high school.” He forced the words past his lips. He was, to a degree, sorry. He had been a douchebag. His years in service had humbled him greatly, especially with how many folks he met from different walks of life. Becoming a priest had made him reevaluate a lot about himself.

Eddie was still a prick though. He had antagonised Jason just as much back then, even if Jason had had the popularity to back him unlike Eddie.

“Honestly? Me too. We were stupid, teenage dicks.” Eddie conceded and Jason rolled his eyes.

“You were a freak though.”

“And you were a preppy shitstain jock.”

They stared at each other, and after a long silence, Jason’s lip quirked up.

“Forgive and forget?”

“Something tells me if I don’t say yes now, I’ll have to say a dozen Hail Mary’s instead later.”

“Only half a dozen. I can be nice.” Jason shrugged and Eddie cackled, head thrown back.

“God, Carver, man, I never thought this would be how we met again. A priest. I mean, it makes sense, you bible thumper.” He teased, trying to hook a finger under the white band of his collar. Jason smacked his hand away with a huff.

“My church is about sharing Gods teachings and Jesus’ love with people who want it. I wouldn’t call myself a bible thumper. That implies I’m out rallying against gay marriage and abortions in my free time. I don’t care what folks outside my church do. I learnt that early on.”

“Oh wow. You’re all ‘love thy neighbour’, huh?” Eddie seemed genuinely surprised. “Not gonna stone a whore in the front yard?”

“Gosh no!” Jason put a hand to chest, appalled. “If she finds pleasure in flesh, good for her, but I will pass. And perhaps advise her to be safe. And evaluate why she prefers one night stands to a healthy, long term relationship with an active partner and plentiful sex.” He crossed his arms with a shrug of his shoulders and brows.

Eddie laughed. Full belly laughed, bent at the knees and wheezing a little.

“Oh my god! You’re literally — full one-eighty! You’re a whole new guy! This is…god, this is kind of hilarious.”

“You didn’t change, from what I’m seeing.” Jason mused. Eddie grinned.

“Nah. I mean, I grew up, had to to be in the biz long term, but I’m still everybody’s favourite freak.” He joked with a good-natured shrug.

“And now you’re standing outside my church.”

“The kid is convinced we have to reconnect. Be friends again.” Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m a sucker for kids, man. Can’t disappoint them.”

“Do you have any?”

“Nah. I mean — I could have.” Eddie admitted shyly. “Didn’t work out. Got too wrapped up in my career, couldn’t settle. And groupies, try as they might to convince you I hooked up with them, and knocked them up; I didn’t.”

“Why not?” Jason quirked a brow. “Isn’t that the big things with rockstars? Drugs, music and women?”

Eddie barked a laugh.

“Drugs? Some hard stuff in my youth. Some weed when I need to mellow out during a writing sesh. Music? Ear-aching amount. But I’m proud of it. As for women…” He leaned in closer, voice low as he spoke. “Not really my type.” He pulled back with thin lips and Jason’s heart thumped harder in his chest, his collar feeling too tight.

“I told you. I don’t judge people. Only the Creator can.” He looked up at the clear blue sky. “And he doesn’t make mistakes.” He assured softly and Eddie smiled. “So…you’re gay.”

“Not exactly.” Eddie shrugged, looking a bit shy. “Not really interested in anybody. Not in that way.”

Jason frowned.

“Is that why you aren’t married?” Despite his many rings, Eddie’s left ring finger was bare. “You don’t…can’t love anyone?”

“I do. I can.” Eddie affirmed. “Just, uh, not interested in showing it through…physical means.”

It clicked in Jason’s head then. His eyes widened, lips parted in surprise.

“I see.”

“Must suck. Being a priest. Celibacy and all.” Eddie suddenly said, shifting his stance to something faux-casual. Trying to move the subject off himself and his lack of desire.

“Not really. It’s why I went into it.” Jason admitted, Eddie’s confession making him feel brazen.

“You went into priesthood for…the abstinence?” Eddie frowned, squinting in confusion.

“Well, I had faith, and I was in a marriage I was unhappy in. She had the child she wanted. It seemed like a good option at the time. I’m glad I did it, actually.”

“Wait, just let me— are you…” Eddie gestured vaguely and Jason smirked.

“I’m not gay. I’m not really straight either. I…don’t desire sex. At all.”

“You have a son.” Eddie reminded, like Jason didn’t know.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but…I’m glad I had him, even if I wasn’t comfortable making him.” Jason truly meant that. Joseph was his pride and joy.

“So you’re asexual too?”

“Asexual?” Jason frowned. “Like a plant?”

“No, you, uh…you’re not attracted to anyone. Physically.”

“No.” Jason’s brows furrowed. “There’s a word for that?”

“Yeah.” Eddie chuckled. “There’s a lot of words for a lot of things. I am curious though; do you like anybody romantically?”

Jason thought about it. He had thought he loved his ex-wife. He knew he had loved Chrissy before they spilt. He had had plenty of crushes as a kid and even in his years as a priest, he had pined for two women, and a man for a brief time.

“My heart doesn’t discriminate.” He decided with a soft blush. Eddie grinned.

“I feel you there.”

They stared at each other a long moment and Jason’s heart only raced faster, all too aware of it. Eddie offered him a dazzling smile. The show stopping kind.

“Maybe we should hang out. Properly. I’m pretty sure the little dude is already bragging to all his friends about his uber cool dad anyway.”

“I’m only ‘uber cool’ dad when you’re mentioned.” Jason clicked his tongue. Eddie smirked.

“Obviously. I’m the uber cool part, you’re the dad.”

Jason rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, trying to hide his smile. He was doing a poor job of it.

It took him thirty five years to realise he was asexual, but it took him thirty six to realise he was in love with Eddie Munson.

Go figure. The Lord really did work in mysterious ways, huh?

[wooahaes]

on the right track

pairing: non-idol!vernon x gn!reader

word count: 0.7k~

warnings: school stress. senior student reader working on their thesis. also just a smidge of like... implied adhd reader. no proofreading, intentional lowercase, admittedly very self-indulgent.

daisy’s notes: i am terrified of being an adult w a Real-ish Job can someone fund me to get my masters--

four thousand five hundred and sixty-nine words and you were finally fucking done with your rough draft.

despite everything you had once thought about writing, drafting out your senior thesis was far harder than you thought it’d been. one part of it had been your inability to focus, brain flitting to something else that needed doing (or, rather, anything else because revisiting your stupid books for the fifteenth time was boring and there was a reason you’d put off actually typing up excerpts). the other part had just been the frustration of trying to satisfy your professor--who, in all fairness, was encouraging as hell and one of the best women you’d ever met. at least she gave you thesis a fair chance and indulged you in it instead of writing it off because it didn’t contain british literature. your boyfriend had been thankful of that: as much as he liked to hear your passionate rants, he knew it couldn’t be good for you to get so frustrated with one woman.

that brought you to now: three in the morning days after the rough draft was technically due. you told yourself that it was fine, as only one of your classmates had submitted it on time. you were busy with other things, namely other classes, anyway. you were getting some progress on it.

(of course, that progress also came in late nights at your computer until vernon inevitably woke up, reached over to the empty space in bed, and then made his way back to you. his warm arms would wrap around you as he slowly pulled you away when you finished the sentence you were on, mumbling that you needed sleep. with him. he missed having you there to cuddle, and a pouty boyfriend was the easiest way to make you give in to your own desire to curl up in his arms and fall asleep.)

no thoughts, head emptier than earlier, you submitted the damn thing to your class’s discussion board and immediately clicked off. you relaxed into your chair, shutting your eyes with a heavy sigh. sure, there was more to be done after your professor looked it over and gave you feedback: but this was one step. hopefully a final draft wouldn’t require rewriting every damn part of the paper.

“baby?” vernon was lingering near the kitchen at this point, staring at where you’d moved from the dining table to the couch for maximum comfort. “are you done?”

you shut your laptop with a sigh. “for now.”

he perked up, immediately making his way over to flop into the space next to you. “you’re done!”

“for now,” you repeated. “i still have to edit the thing and then do my defense--”

“you’re done,” he said again, “with this part. you’ve got the rest of it, babe. no sweat.” he set aside your laptop, already pulling you into his arms. “i’m proud of you.”

you almost want to make some quip, asking if he suddenly decided to become your dad. yet something about the sentiment made you tear up, breath hitching as your emotions overtake you faster than you expected. one step closer to being done with all of this bullshit. you felt your tears brim up and finally overflow as you began to cry into vernon’s shirt, and he was already starting to rub circles into your back as he pulled you in closer. between the rough draft and every other assignment you had on your plate... this cry was what you needed.

“i mean it, babe,” he said in a softer voice. “i’m really, really proud of you. you came back to it.”

you did. you were supposed to graduate earlier that year. he knew how much you had struggled with having to withdraw from classes and then go back into it after barely two months of down time. and he knew exactly how scared you were of whatever came next, after you actually graduated.

“did you eat?”

you shook your head.

“aw, baby...” he dragged out the term of endearment, and you could hear his smile in his voice. “that’s no good. c’mon, i’ll warm it up for you. you’ve still gotta eat--”

except you wrapped your arms around him a little tighter, taking refuge for a little longer. his arms wound back around you a moment later, thumb tracing hearts into the back of your shirt.

“i love you,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss into the side of your head. “c’mon. it’s self care time.”

at least you had vernon to have your back when you needed it the most.

general taglist: @wonuziex​ @twancingyunhao​ @synthetickitsune​

[konata-izumi-kinny-writes]

Dib Membrane x Cousin! Reader (platonic)

[A/n: I LOVE THIS LITTLE FELLA SO MUCH I WANNA GIVE HIM A HUG AND TALK ABOUT PARANORMAL CREATURES WITH HIM]

[A/n 2: Gender neutral pronouns are used]

[Warnings: mention of food (sorry to anyone with an eating disorder)]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~○°•.♤.•°○~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You barely ever get to see your uncle and cousins due to living so far away from them, but thankfully, your mom let you transfer to the High school next to where Dib went.

Now you're finally here after a long plane ride, you walk up to the door of Uncle Membrane's house and knock on the door. You greet your uncle with a hug as he walks you in, he shows you your room which is in between Gaz and Dib's rooms.

A few hours later you're finished unpacking and decorating your room, you're genuinely happy with how it looks. You're admiring your work when you're interrupted by an all too familiar voice.

"Hello?"

You turn around to see your little cousin, Dib, with a smile.

"Hi Dib!"

"...[Y/n]? I thought you were at home!"

He runs up to you and gives you a hug.

"Actually I'm going to be staying here for a while, I'll be going to the nearby Highschool."

"Perfect!! Because I need your help."

"What is it, Buddy?"

You listen to him rant about his encounters with his alien classmate Zim, as you listen to him, the more you start to believe him, especially when he showed you a picture.

For real, theres no skin condition out there that turns you green with no nose or ears, obviously the kiddo is an alien! Dib perked up when you said you believed him.

"Wait really? You actually believe me?!"

"Of course, it so painfully obvious, that i'm really starting to question the intelligence of our generation. For real for real."

"Finally someone believes me!! You're the best cousin ever!"

"I try, how about tomorrow after school, I help you catch this alien classmate of yours?"

"Perfect! And bring lots of water, it burns him. We have a big day tomorrow, Goodnight Y/n!"

"G'night Dib!"

He gave you one more hug before going to his room. You put on your pajamas and got in bed, tomorrow will be interesting for sure.

You agreed to meet Dib at recess at the gate that separates the high school and the middle school's playground. Sure enough you did, bringing your lunch with you so you don't go hungry, spying on aliens takes up energy.

You hopped up onto the fence and sat down, Dib noticed you right away and came over.

"Whats Kraken, Squiddo?"

"Not much, anyways Zim is right over there-... was that a pun?"

"Yep"

Dib face palmed as you looked at Zim, sure enough, Dib was right. Thats an alien, green skin, no ears or nose, and wearing a weird space-y outfit.

"...bruh. its so obvious hes an alien! Its so obvious its not even funny."

"I KNOW!!!!"

Zim stopped what he was doing as he heard Dib's outburst and looked directly at you and Dib. You both went quiet as he marched over.

He stopped just a few feet away from Dib and looked up at you with a questioning glare.

"Dib! Who is this larger human worm baby you converse with?!"

"Shes not a baby, shes almost an adult."

"Hi.. i'm Y/n."

"Y/n..."

He let your name roll off his tongue in a questioning manner.

"Cousin Y/n and I are totally gonna catch you after school!"

"Just try it, I'll be ready, FOR I AM ZIIIIIM!!!!"

As Zim ran off you just stared, not knowing what to think.

"...so he thinks he can conquer earth."

"Yeah basically."

"I don't know if i should be laughing or concerned."

Both of the school bells ring and you give Dib a hug before you both go inside.

The school bells ring to end the day and you step outside, the polluted air filling your lungs. You space out until you feel a familiar tug on your shirt, you look down and see Dib, as wide eyed and adorable as ever.

Your fond thoughts and memories are interrupted by a certain green alien running past.

"AFTER HIM!!"

"LETS GET IT!"

With that, the two of you take off as Dib pulls out a set of strange looking handcuffs. He also hands you a water gun.

The chase lasts for a good few minutes, taking you all over the place, through alleys, parking lots, and on top of a public bus.

It all ends when Zim makes it into his house, and the two of you don't.

"Well.. that was... eventful.." you comment in between heavy breaths

"We'll get you next time, Zim!! You hear me?!!"

Hyperventilating, you collapse on the concrete pathway in front of Zim's house. Dib's frustration toward Zim quickly turns to worry directed at you.

"Hey, woah.. [Y/n], are you okay?"

"Tired.."

"Okay, hold on okay?"

Dib grabs a phone from his backpack and calls Gaz, minutes later, she shows up with a black wagon.

She then grabs you from under your arms and, with the help of Dib, hoists you into the wagon. They both start to roll you home, making conversation on the way.

Halfway there, you feel better and switch places with Dib and Gaz, them in the basket, and you pulling them.

You all get home, and to nobody's surprise, Uncle Membrane isn't there. You throw a frozen pizza in the oven and spend time with your cousins before you all eat and get ready for bed.

You're in the middle of a dream when you're woken up by a teary eyed Dib sitting at the edge of your bed.

"Hey, whats wrong, bud?"

"Nothing... just a nightmare. I.. wanted to see if you were okay."

"I'm sorry, I'm alright, buddy. Tell ya what, how about we have a sleepover?"

Dib looks at you, intrigued by your suggestion. You scoot over and pat the space on the bed next to you.

"We can keep eachother safe, after all, what are cousins for?"

Dib smiles and crawls in next to you.

"Thank you, [Y/n], you're the best."

The two of you drift off to sleep, ready for another day of school and alien hunting.

Pov Switch: Zim

I watched as the Dib got into the stasis cushion with his 'cousin', as they called it. Maybe.. if i can get the [Y/n] in my possession, I CAN USE THEM AGAINST THE DIB! ITS GENIUS!!!

I retreat from the [Y/n]'s window and run back to base, ready to formulate my next plan of attack.

Thank you for reading!

Have a Monke Dragon >:3

[miekasa]

NICE.

+ pairings: eren yeager + (fem) reader

+ genres: rich kid au, college au, friends to lovers au, fluff, light-ish angst, smut/nsfw content (everybody gets a piece)!

+ warnings: mentions of depression/anxiety, mentions and use of drugs and alcohol, some of the smut happens under the influence so be cautious if that’s something you don’t like, i swear this is all more idiots in love than angst tho i just wanna disclose everything fairly

+ notes: this is alternatively titled super rich kids and you can probably figure out why. some of this is based off of real life, some of it is straight out of gossip girl and i challenge you to separate the facts from the fiction :’) anyways, i hope we all remember the lyrics to in my feelings

+ more notes: one quick reference for ages in this fic—all the vets are older but not by that much, think various stages of grad school. armin, connie, sasha, annie, and bertholdt are all college sophomores. eren, the reader, and pretty much everybody else are college seniors, so they’re about a year or two older. also here is a playlist for your reading pleasures, shoutout to ryn for letting me mooch of their spotify account :’)

+ word count: 19k. i’m sorry.

+ summary: fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool, fuck you.; or the story of notorious rich kid and self-proclaimed bad boy eren yeager, and his not so goody two-shoes best friend.

“So you’re saying that you don’t love me? That you’re not riding? That you’ll actually leave from beside me?”

“I’m saying that it’s ass o’clock in the morning and I’m not driving in the rain to Brooklyn to pick your sorry ass up.”

“But… but I want you, and I need you, and I’m down for you.”

You check the time on your phone screen and groan. 3:57am. Far too early to be dealing with the likes of Eren Jaeger. “Just get an Uber or something. I don’t know what you and your idiot friends were up to this time, but I don’t want any part of it.”

“First, they’re our idiot friends. Second, I don’t think they let you take Ubers from jail, and even if they did, it’s, like, four in the morning, so I don’t think there are any Ubers driving around, so could you pretty please come pick me up? I promise I’ll make it up to—”

“From where?” you cut him off, slowly sitting upright in your bed. You hold your phone closer to your ear, ready to listen again; because, certainly, you must have misheard him the first time. You wait, but the line is silent, save for Eren’s awkward chuckling. “Eren Asher Jaeger, tell me that that was another stupid lyric from that stupid song, and that you are not in prison right now.”

Eren makes a sad attempt at laughing. “Technically, it’s a holding cell, not really prison… and I would leave, but they suspended my license for a month, and Min can’t drive yet, so we kind of need you,” he explains, “Uh, no pun intended.”

“Min?” you pull your eyebrows together at the mention of the younger’s name, “Is Armin with you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

With a frown and a heavy sigh, you push yourself out of bed, wedging your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you grab the nearest pair of sweatpants.

“Why did you get him caught up in whatever stupid shit you were doing tonight?” you complain, scanning your dark bedroom for a shirt to wear, “Erwin’s going to castrate you when he finds out.”

You curse as you stub your toe against the edge of your bed on your way out of the room. Given the time, weather, and the fact that you have several exams to start studying for, hanging up and leaving Eren in the middle of god knows where Brooklyn doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, but you couldn’t go back to sleep knowing that Armin would have to suffer with him.

“Relax,” Eren breathes in a tone all too nonchalant for the situation at hand, “He didn’t get charged with anything, and nothing’s going on his record.”

“You don’t know that,” you retort, sliding your raincoat over your free arm, as you paddle down the stairs of your apartment, “The NYPD suck.”

“True,” he hums, “But I paid off the cop, so it’ll be fine.”

You pause in your steps, but really, you shouldn’t be surprised. “Of course you did,” you mumble, moving again and grabbing your car keys off of the kitchen island.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questions. His tone is actually genuine and it tempts you to roll your eyes.

“What it always means, Eren,” you sigh, stepping into the elevator, “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“Thank you, baby. I love you.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Get off my line.”

He doesn’t have time to throw in another pitiful “I love you” before the line goes dead and he’s met with static silence. He hangs up the station telephone with a silent chuckle, turning around to face Armin and Officer Hannes.

“Someone’s coming to pick us up,” he says, trying to focus on Armin’s sigh of relief and not the warmth creeping up his neck and into his cheeks, “I’ll, uh, call a tow for the car in the morning.”

The cop, too tired to care, only shrugs, and pays them no further attention. He hands Eren a plastic bag with his car keys and newly suspended license, escorts him back into the cell, and returns to his desk. Eren gives Hannes the finger while his back is turned.

Beside him, Armin is still quivering; bouncing his leg up and down, fiddling with his fingers, gnawing on his bottom lip. Eren frowns, a heavy wave of guilt washing over him as he takes in the younger’s anxiety ridden state. It wasn’t fair that Armin could have potentially suffered legal consequences because of his stupidity.

Eren’s lucky that Hannes was sleazy enough to accept his bribe and let him off with minimal punishment. With that they were doing, things could have ended up far worse for the both of them tonight.

“I’m sorry, man,” he apologizes, hands stuffed in his front pockets, “About tonight, I mean. We—I shouldn’t have done that, not with you there.”

Armin looks up at him with sparkling, doe eyes and Eren wants to punch himself in the gut for making him go through all of this, even if it didn’t amount to an actual arrest. “You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”

“I could have prevented it,” he says. Because it’s what you would have said, too.

“It’s not your fault, I wanted to come, remember?” Armin tells him, redirecting his gaze to the grey floor of the precinct cell. He takes a deep breath, almost calming down completely when a sudden thought reignites his nervous ticks, “You… they’re not gonna tell my parents, right?”

“No, no—of course not.”

Armin was legally an adult; he, nor Eren, nor the police had to tell his parents anything. Sure, Hannes could rat them out, but honestly that sounded like way more work than he was cut out for; not to mention he’d be bound to reveal that he let them off easy for a couple thousand bucks.

Armin nods, “And… that wasn’t Erwin on the phone, right?”

“Are you kidding me? He’d murder me on the spot,” Eren says. He pauses before tacking on, “I, uh… I called (_____).”

“Oh,” the younger gapes, “She’ll kill you, too.”

“Yeah,” Eren sighs, scratching the back of his neck in nervous anticipation, “Trust me, I know.”

“You have your access card on you, right, Armin?” you ask. He nods sheepishly, hand on the car door handle.

“Thanks again for coming to get us,” he says meekly, “I’m sorry about waking you up and everything.”

You offer him a warm smile through the rear view mirror, “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re safe. Text me when you get up tomorrow, okay? We can get brunch, my treat.”

His face lights up at the prospect of free food, and he nods once more, enthusiastically, but his expression falls again when he speaks, “Okay, and I’ll, um, pay you back for the tickets and stuff as soon as I can—”

“It’s fine, really, don’t worry about it,” you repeat.

“It was almost three thou—”

“You forget who you’re friends with,” you cut him off with a smile, “Don’t worry about it, okay? It wasn’t your fault.”

Armin’s eyes dart to Eren quickly, before clearing his throat, a light pink tint to his cheeks. You know that the prospect of money can be a sensitive subject for Armin, one easily triggered by his very environment, but this wasn’t negotiable on your end. You know that Armin doesn’t like the feeling of owing anyone anything, but he knows he won’t get you to budge; so, he quietly nods, appreciative of your generosity, before bidding you and Eren a final goodnight and sprinting towards the dorm. Once you see that he’s safely inside, you wave one last time, and wait for the door to shut behind him.

Slowly, Eren turns to the driver’s seat to look at you. You were eerily calm when you came to pick him and Armin up from the station. You didn’t yell, cuss, or punch him in the face like he expected. You politely talked to the officer, thanked him for his service, paid their fees, and up until now, you’ve shown no signs of being angry with him at all.

The two of you drive back to your shared apartment in complete silence, Eren too confused, and borderline scared, of initiating a conversation. He wonders if you’re too tired, or if you really don’t give a damn anymore, but when you pull into the underground lot of your building and put the car in park, he finds out the silence was simply the calm before the storm.

You take your hand off of the gear shift and turn towards him. It’s a quiet stare down for nearly a full minute before you break the mime act with a slap to his thigh.

“Drag racing? Are you out of your fucking mind? Of all the stupid shit you’ve done—and you’ve done a lot of stupid shit—this has got to take the cake. Just what the actual fuck were you thinking?”

“Ouch!” he inhales sharply, rubbing over where you’d hit him, “We were just having fun! Then these other guys showed up and started talking shit so—”

“Having fun?” you echo, “You couldn’t think of anything fun to do that’s not illegal in every borough of New York City?”

Eren feels his cheek flush, but he only huffs with the illusion of disinterest, “I don’t know why you’re freaking out so bad. I’m a good driver, it was those other squids that got us into shit, I’m telling you. They showed up looking for a fight, then ran like a bunch of pussies when the cops came.”

You exhale slowly, shaking your head in disbelief. You seem to have no other words to say to him, choosing to step out of the car and slam the door behind you. Eren quickly follows, slamming his door equally as hard, and hot on your trail as you march towards the elevator.

“(_____), come on, enough with the silent treatment,” he whines when you stick yourself in a corner of the elevator after pushing the button to the penthouse, “I told you I didn’t start shit, Armin and I got ratted on.”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about whether or not they started it, Eren. You’re still the problem here.”

“Me? How am I the problem?” he pulls back, eyebrows drawn together in genuine confusion, “I just told you I didn’t do shit.”

You scoff, crossing your arms and shifting your left leg, “I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“Doing what with me?” he presses, tone growing icy.

“This, Eren!” you reiterate, “I’m too tired to hear your bullshit right now.”

The elevator dings and opens into your apartment. You push past him, continuing your deliberate strides through the living area, and to the stairs, but Eren catches you with a hand on your wrist before you can go any further.

“Will you fucking stop that,” he growls, “If you’ve got something to say, then stop running away from me, and just say it.”

“Funny,�� you sneer, pulling your wrist away from him and settling both your feet on the bottom step, “You’re one to talk about running away from things.”

He takes a step back, standing just a notch below you, perfectly frozen in place. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means your little drag racing episode was not only dangerous and immature, it was you running away from your problems like a spoiled child, yet again.”

Eren’s features narrow at your accusations; eyes fading into hooded slits, lips curving downwards, and voice bobbing low, “I’m not running away from anything.”

“Oh, please, Eren,” you roll your eyes, arms retreating to their crossed position in front of your chest, “Cut the bullshit.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” But he bets that even in the dim lighting of the apartment, you can see the tips of his ears growing red, just like they always do when he’s lying.

“Oh, really?” you ask, eyes widening in mock surprise, “You don’t think I don’t know this whole thing has something to do with the fact that your mom came home on Friday?”

Another pause. “Who told you that?” He asks, but it comes out more like a statement.

“Nobody had to,” you snap, “Jean said he caught you with a sack of coke over the weekend, and I knew something was up.”

“It wasn’t mine, I was—”

“I said cut the shit, Eren. If I went up into your room right now I bet your ass I’d find more than enough of it in a shoebox somewhere.”

He retreats, almost bashful, but unapologetic all the same. “Fine, whatever, I did a few lines. Big deal.”

“The big deal is that you think this is fucking normal, and now you’ve upgraded from coke to getting yourself arrested! It’d be one thing if you were acting like a misfit on your own, but to drag Armin into it because you—”

“Drag him into it?” he echoes with the snare of sarcasm dripping from each syllable, “You talk about Armin like he’s six. I don’t know why you think he’s some helpless little baby, but you have no goddamn responsibility over him. He’s not your fucking charity case.”

“I never fucking said he’s my charity case—don’t you ever fucking say that,” you say, “Having some basic respect and concern for my friends isn’t charity.”

“Wake the fuck up! You baby Armin when he’s a grown ass man. I didn’t force him into the fucking car to get sympathy points from you.”

“Grown? Armin is barely nineteen, disowned by his parents, is on a full fucking ride to an insanely expensive university, and you got him arrested tonight! Do you know what could happen if NYU found out? They could fucking kick him out, take his scholarship away—and then what, huh? Or were you just gonna buy off the headmaster, too?”

“You’re acting like I fucking planned for it!”

He’s screaming now, voice bellowing throughout the apartment, face red—and he doesn’t mean to, he doesn’t mean it at all; but it’s late, and he’s tired, and those shouldn’t be excuses, but he’s too prideful to back down.

“Of course you didn’t! You didn’t plan for anything, you were just being a reckless, irresponsible asshole like always,” you tell him, too blind-sighted by anger and the need to chide him that you miss the teary undertones in his words.

“And what’s it matter to you?”

“It fucking matters to me when you call at some godforsaken hour asking me to pick you up from prison!”

He takes a step forward, right leg elevated by the same step that both your feet rest on. “Well, what else am I supposed to fucking do!” He shouts even though he’s mere inches from your face, “Tell me just what the fuck I’m supposed to do instead!”

“You’re supposed to act like an adult and fucking talk to someone!”

“Who the hell am I supposed to talk to, huh?” he presses, taking a step forward and forcing you to retreat backwards, and up a step, “My mother who’s never home or her bastard boyfriend?”—another step forward for him, another step backwards for you—“The step-brother I can’t get in contact with?”—one step forward; one step backwards—“Or maybe the dad I never had, right?”

“Me, Eren!” you yell back with equal vigor, throwing your hands up at your sides, and planting your feet firmly. “Armin, Mikasa, Jean—anyone! You have people who fucking care about you! Stop treating us like correction officers, we’re your fucking friends!”

There’s silence for a while, just you and Eren staring at each other, heavy breathing, waiting for the other to make the next move. He opens his mouth, but when he tries to speak, his resolve washes away, his throat tightens and the words get sucked back in.

It would be easy to keep yelling, screaming, blaming you for blowing up on him. He used to think the scolding he got from you after pulling some stupid stunt was the worst part; but now, he thinks it might be his favorite part. He hates to hear you scream, and it hurts to see you cry, but if you’re yelling, you’re angry that he hurt himself; you care that he’s okay.

“I—” he stutters, words quiet and broken, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to get like this tonight, it was an accident I—”

“You never mean for any of it to happen, yet it always does,” you interrupt, voice soft yet strained, “I know you have your own shit to deal with, but so does everybody else.”

“(_____), please, you’re right, okay? I should have said something before,” he admits, mouth small as he voices his confessions, “I should have talked to you or one of the boys, but I—I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

He’s groveling now. Mouth in pout, eyes wide, voice small, and honestly, he thinks he might cry. At this point he doesn’t care if he does.

“I want you to mean it,” you finally say, and when he looks up, he hates the look he sees in your eyes. It’s something between sad and hurt and empty and it’s awful. Someone like you shouldn’t feel that way. He shouldn’t make you feel that way.

“I—”

“When you’re ready to tell me exactly what’s going on with you—what’s happening that made you think going to jail would be better than facing your issues—I’ll be here to talk,” you continue, eyes watering, “But until then, goodnight, Eren.”

Eren winces when you turn around and ascend up the remaining stairs. He flirts with the idea of following you, going to your room to finish talking, but you’re probably angry enough to have it locked. His room is up there, too, but he opts for part of the sectional, laying down with the palms of his hands kneading against his closed eyelids.

For as long as he can remember, you’ve been there for him. Your friendship, at times, was like a game of tag—Eren always on the run with you loyally chasing after him; he’d always run amuck, and you’d always be there to catch him in the act. Now, it’s five in the morning, there’s no more yelling, no more chasing, no more racing, but he’s still running.

The following morning, you take Armin out to brunch, as promised. Jean tags along too, something about hanging out with the two of you being infinitely more entertaining than his genetics lecture. It doesn’t seem like Jean knows anything about Armin and Eren’s late night antics, so you don’t bring it up yourself.

Oblivious, Jean chats your ears off as if nothing is awry. Whether he knows it or not, he does a great job of distracting Armin from his own thoughts. They both eat to their heart’s content when you remind them you’ll foot the bill; and you don’t bat an eye when Jean convinces Armin to order his third round of pancakes. He deserves it.

Afterwards, Jean convinces the three of you to go window shopping with him in SoHo, claiming that he needed inspiration for his latest fashion assignment (you don’t question why he’s taking a fashion class as a biology major, but you suspect it has something to do with Mikasa). Window shopping soon turns into actual shopping, so almost completely unprompted, and with little effort on his part, Armin gets a few pieces of clothing on your behalf, while you try to ignore Eren’s words itching at the back of your mind.

Armin’s not a baby, but he certainly is a kid with a rough past and rough relationship with his parents at a time in his life where he arguably needs them the most. A little extra support from his friends wouldn’t harm him.

It’s nearing six when the three of you are wedged in a small booth inside a café, indulging in overpriced hot chocolate. Three sips into his second cup, Jean excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving you sitting across from Armin.

“You know, you don’t have to keep buying me stuff to make up for Eren,” Armin says, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I’m not trying to make up for him,” you sputter, careful not to spill your drink over your lap, “You had a rough night. Just accept my gifts, don’t be a brat.”

“I do accept them. Erwin’s been eyeing that Off White sweater for, like, three weeks now. He’s gonna have a hissy fit when he sees me wearing it.” You chuckle, and he continues, “But you know, as much I love spending time with you, you can’t use me to avoid Eren forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” you frown.

“You said you were going to take us to brunch, and then spent the whole day with us.”

“Funny, I recall you saying something about how much you love my company about thirty seconds ago.”

“He’s called you at least ten times today.”

“I was spending the day with my favorite NYU student… and Jean,” you bat your lashes, “I see you maybe once a week. I live with Eren, I have to see him every day.”

Armin calls your name with a pout, “He’s sorry, you know.”

“Not sorry enough,” you mumble. Armin opens his mouth to say something again, but then Jean’s sliding back into the booth, chatting about how he’s finally come up with the perfect anniversary date for Mikasa.

Armin doesn’t notice your sigh of relief, but he does take note of the way you wipe away your notifications when a text rings through. If Eren could spend his days running away from his problems, then you could, too.

Despite being arguably the greediest of you all, Jean loves company, so he doesn’t hesitate to say yes when you ask to crash at his place after your shopping escapades. You expect to be welcomed with sounds of screaming, laughter, and loud music, but to your surprise his apartment is completely silent upon your entering.

“Bertholdt has class and Marco has a meeting,” he prompts, as if he could read your thoughts. He shimmies his coat off his shoulders and tosses it over the bar in the foyer.

Their apartment has the same amount of rooms as yours and Eren’s, but is all stretched along a single floor. It’s more of a maze, really, with intricate turns, and hallways, that all more or less open up into the expanse of the foyer and bar. Their living room is your favorite part. A dark, brown leather sectional wraps around the back three walls and an oversized flatscreen encased in an ebony frame takes center stage. A collection of vinyl records litters the walls above the couch; each of the boys contributing their favorite discs as décor.

“If he has class, shouldn’t you have class?” you question, fingers dragging over the ridges of the closest record.

“I’ve had class all day, but that doesn’t mean I go,” Jean shrugs, walking up behind you and taking your jacket off your shoulders and your bag from your hand, “Besides, Bertholdt will probably cut half-way to go see Reiner, if he can even stay awake that long. Going with him is just as productive as staying home.”

“You’re all a mess,” you scoff, turning around as a cheesy grin grows on Jean’s lips. His smile is infectious, and soon you catch yourself grinning just because.

“You want something to drink?” he offers, throwing your coat over his elbow and tilting his head in the direction of the bar.

“You’re bad at mixing drinks,” you remind him, but follow him anyway.  

Jean laughs, not bothering to deny the jab. He doesn’t try his hand at anything mixed or complicated this time; simply offering you a glass of your favorite red, and pouring himself a smaller amount.

He puts the album you were gawking at earlier on the record player, the two of you sinking into the couch as lovely melodies radiate throughout the apartment.

He spends the first hour bitching about how Marco’s supposed to become a CEO in less than a year, yet has the attention span of a squirrel; but the playful lilt in the brunette’s voice, and the begrudging smile on his face lets you know that it’s all love. He gushes about Mikasa for a good half hour, cramming you with stories about his girlfriend’s talent for sewing and fashion. You also learn that Bertholdt’s been busier than usual these days, and Jean suspects it has something to do with a secret lover.

You pinch your eyebrows at his hunch. Bertholdt’s never been one for dating. He’s had many friends with benefits in the past, but they weren’t relationships, nor were they secrets. In fact, you don’t think that he could keep a secret to save his life.

“Why would he be hiding it if he were seeing someone?” you question, swirling your newly refilled glass.

“Dunno,” Jean shrugs, “But it’s sus, I’m telling you. He’s been oddly busy for someone with a 2.3 GPA. Either way, I’ll pry it out of him eventually.”

“You’re so fucking nosey,” you chuckle, watching the mischievous, satisfied grin settle onto his features.

“I kinda think it’s Armin,” Jean says after a while, downing the remaining wine in his cup, while you choke on your own drink.

“Why on Earth do you think if Bertholdt had a secret lover that it’d be Armin?”

“Because he was in love with him for, like, two years in high school,” Jean says, as if the information should be painfully obvious.

“Yeah, and Bert also hooked up with a million different people in high school.”

“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t still in love with Armin.”

“I don’t think Armin’s kissed another human, let alone is in a secret relationship with one.”

“Hm, true. I forget he’s still a virgin.”

“Hey—there’s nothing wrong with Armin being a virgin, leave him be.”

“I know there’s nothing wrong with it,” Jean whines, “But it’s so—he doesn’t have to be. Armin’s cute! And very attractive—dare I even say sexy. He could go outside and get laid right now if he just tried.”

“Stay humble, Jean boy. If I remember correctly, you only started breaking hearts a year ago,” you tut. Jean’s nose goes pink as he shoves you away when you continue, “But, if you’re so concerned with Armin’s virginity, why don’t you go help him out with it.”

“Actually, if I remember correctly, I think that’s more your gig,” he shoots back, a smug smile tugging on his lips. “Not to mention, I’m not trying to get beat up by Annie. Though, I wonder how much longer it’ll take before she finally snaps. Hey, maybe the both of you can tag team him, I’m sure Annie wouldn’t mind, and it might even make Armin less nervous to have you—”

It’s your turn to shove him now, throwing in an extra punch when his head bobs back with laughter. You’re very certain Annie would mind; you would mind if someone inserted themself in your kind of, sort of, not really relationship, and ruined your four years of pining.

“Speaking of lovers,” Jean prompts, once his laughter dies down, bending his knee and turning closer to you. “Why are you and lover boy fighting? Trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum, sipping your drink in between words. Jean’s eyes pinch together. “Marco and I would never fight.”

“My god, will you let your Marco fantasies go already? You’ve already caused him one sexuality crisis,” Jean groans, “You know I mean Eren.”

You sigh, lowering your glass and reaching forward to pinch his cheek. “It’s nothing you have to worry your pretty little head over.”

“Please,” he scoffs, flicking your offending hand back, “He’s been texting us nonstop since this morning at, like, nine. I didn’t even know he was capable of waking up before noon.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but Jean continues, “Why he would ask us for advice on you is beyond me. He knows you better than all of us combined.”

“And why you’re saying all of this is beyond me.”

“Oh, come on, what’d he do,” Jean pushes, borderline whines, as he puts his empty glass down in a cup holder embedded in the couch. He’s always been the most prone to gossip, but you forget that wine makes him even more of a nosey prick. “Must have been pretty bad. Or stupid.”

“Try both,” you mumble, “Well—I don’t know, it wasn’t… the worst thing anyone could do, but it was really fucking reckless—and why he did it, I couldn’t even tell you. I don’t know what goes through his mind half the time, but I swear he must have been on crack last night.”

“He probably was. On crack, I mean. I told you, I took an ounce from him over the weekend, but that was after Eren and Ymir did, like, five lines.”

“Do they really do that regularly?” you nearly cry, a hand massaging your temple, “Fucking Christ, if he really was high while driving, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Well, I don’t know if regular is the right word,” Jean ponders, “Maybe for Ymir, but god knows what she’s on half the time, anyways. Besides, coke isn’t the worst thing they could do.”

“You sound like you speak from personal experience.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, pausing when you shoot him a disapproving look, “Oh, come on! You’re no angel, either—if memory serves, you were high as shit at Moblit’s birthday party, and kept singing the star spangled banner all night.”

“Yeah, on weed! One time! It was on a rooftop and the stars were out and it has the same rhythm as the happy birthday song, cut me some slack!”

He finds laughing at your expense to be much more fun, however, as he continues to chuckle while you throw a fit. He’s also not one to let a topic of gossip go undiscussed, and has no problem bringing the conversation back to Eren.

“It’s because you two don’t talk, you know,” Jean tuts, “That’s why you fight like this.”

For the second time, the younger’s words have your eyebrows growing close together. “I mean, I guess—but it’s more than that. Eren and I live together, we obviously talk, but—”

“I know, I know, but just hear me out, okay? You and Eren talk about a lot of things, yeah, but you also… don’t. And sometimes you don’t have to, because you guys, like… get each other.”

“Wow. What a way with words you have, Jean Kirstein. You should write a self-help book.”

“What I mean,” he sneers, unhappy with the sarcasm being thrown his way, “Is that you guys understand each other in weird ways. It’s actually kind of cute—sometimes a little freaky, in all honesty. It’s why you don’t always have to talk about serious things. But you take it for granted and let shit bottle up, and then get in denial about it until you blow up in each other’s faces.”

“Please, you barely passed one philosophy class and now you think you’re Plato.”

“You’re doing the in denial thing right now!” he taunts, “Come one, when you two fight like this, what’s it usually about?”

You sigh, sinking back into the plush leather of the couch, and wrapping your hands around a fluffy throw pillow. Thinking about arguing with Eren isn’t particularly something you like to do, and truthfully, you don’t really get pissed at each other that often. Not to the point of ignoring each other, at least.

“I don’t know,” you drawl, “Drugs, me forgetting things, him doing stupid shit, him thinking Mikasa could do better than you, school, drinking, the fact that he leaves his big ass shoes at the top of the stairs for me to trip over and fall to my death every morning, when—”

“His parents?” Jean cuts you off.

“I—we don’t really… it’s not so much fighting over his parents, it’s all the stuff he does to deal with his parents. He never gives his mom’s boyfriends a chance, and he never really talks about why, either. I know he’s secretly just angry and insecure about his dad, but… I don’t know. That doesn’t really make it better.”

“True,” he nods, “See—he doesn’t talk about it.”

“I know, and I told him that last night, too, but… it’s a sensitive subject for him—his dad, I mean,” you sigh, “And you’re right, he shouldn’t bottle his feelings up, but, on the other hand he’s watched his mom get married five times. I don’t always blame him for not wanting to talk about it.”

“Yeah, but just because it’s hard to talk about doesn’t mean he shouldn’t,” Jean lolls, “Wouldn’t you have rather he said something than have done whatever stupid shit he did to make you want to sleep here tonight?”

“Okay, Socrates, I get it,” you lighten up, “I’ll talk to him—or get him to talk to me. Are you happy?”

“Quite,” he says, annoyingly chipper as he rises from the couch. “I hate seeing my favorite power couple fighting.”

Jean knows his words would elicit a slap to his arm, so he takes off just before you can reach him, prompting you to chase him out of the living room and down the hall. The brunette cackles ridiculously loudly as you scream his name with profanities sprinkled in-between. You catch a hold of the bottom of his shirt and pull him back, finally flicking him on the forehead.

He accepts his punishment with pride, offering you a signature smile in return while you both catch your breaths. It’s a sweet moment, the two of you looking at each other with stupid smiles on your face, exhalations tickling your cheeks.

Jean’s eyes break the gaze first, as he looks down the remainder of your face, and back up to your eyes again. His words could get caught in his throat, but he doesn’t let them—he shakes his head, and swiftly turns around, beckoning for you to follow him.

“Come on, we can steal Marco’s clothes for your pajamas this time.”

Jean spends all of three minutes pulling apart Marco’s dresser before swiping a t-shirt and Christmas themed pajama bottoms from his room. He tosses them in your direction before leading you back down the hall and to the left, opening the door to the guest bedroom for you, before leaving you to change.

They have more than one guest bedroom, but this one is unofficially yours. Little pieces of you can be found littered throughout the room, from spare jewelry to mismatched makeup. You spot a single, gold, teardrop shaped earring on the vanity and sigh as you run your fingers over it.

You swear you’d lost it a few months ago. Trust Jean to put it away for safekeeping without telling you he’d found it. The boy in question returns moments later, knocking while walking through the door with your purse in hand.

“How’d you know I was about to ask you to get that?” you question, a smile on your face as you retrieve the small bag from his hands.

Jean offers you a cocky grin, “Cause I’m the best.”

“Don’t go getting a big head, now,” you tease, “Or, well, an even bigger head.”

Jean ignores your insult, as you take a seat at the edge of the bed, fishing through your bag for your phone to plug it in for the night. He’s about to turn around and bid you goodnight, when the flash of something orange peeping out of your purse prompts his next thought.

“Hey, you picked up your refill, right?” he asks innocently, “It should have been ready last Thursday.”

You sigh, head falling slightly when you close your bag and place it on the vanity. “Uh… no.”

Jean’s mouth is already open, ready with equally friendly and scolding words, but you cut him off before he can talk. “I was going to on Thursday, but I had class late, and then I forgot on Friday and I haven’t really had time since then. But I have a few left-overs from the last two months, so I’ve been taking those!”

Jean’s mouth closes, but his eyes narrow as he begins to walk towards you. You know he’s putting two and two together, so you speak ahead of him again.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t have any left over, but it’s only five, I promise! I’ve been really good, lately.”

Jean’s eyes remain in concentrated slits, but his resolve is waning when he reads over your expression. His facade fades as he takes the final steps towards you to stand directly in front of your body.

“Okay,” he says, voice soft through his smile, “I’ll go with you to pick them up tomorrow before I drop you home, yeah?”

It elates him more than it should to see the smile you flash his way. Unfortunately, it’s short-lived, as his next question leaves your face twisted with guilt.

“Have you… told Eren yet?”

You consider lying and saying yes, but something tells you Jean won’t buy it. Your silence seems to speak loud enough, as his shoulders drop with a quiet sigh.

“I want to, I just… well I’m mad at him right now, and even when I’m not… I don’t know why it’s so hard,” you confess.

“He’d wanna know, you know,” Jean says, and it’s not the first time he’s said it to you, either. “You know he wouldn’t judge you or anything.”

“I know that. But, truthfully, if I had things my way, not even you would know, Jean.”

It was an accident that Jean found out that you’d been taking anxiety medication.

It was at somebody’s house party where the majority of your friends and their guests had gotten piss drunk. Reiner’s date had suggested mixing their alcohol with molly she’d supposedly had in her bag. In her drunken stupor, she’d mistaken your purse for her own, but luckily, a not so drunk Jean had noticed the label didn’t match her name, and snagged the bottle before the worst could happen.

They ended up not finding her molly, anyway, but it’s a moot point. Jean had cornered you about the bottle later in the week with honest intentions; he’d been concerned that might be another kind of drug disguised by a prescription veil. However, you’d assured him that it was indeed your prescribed Lexapro, and not a shady mixture of black market substances.

And, he’d been more than understanding in the aftermath. Quite frankly, he had somewhat made it his business to ensure that you got and took your medication on time and felt comfortable getting to and from your therapy appointments.

It’s endearing in a way that made you pause and count your blessings sometimes. Jean had been nothing but unequivocally supportive in his understanding about anxiety and had gone the extra mile to comfort you where need be. It made you wonder why you hesitated to tell Eren on several occasions.

It was probably the very nature of anxiety itself that had you doubting your trust in Eren. You wanted to tell him—of course you did—but, you couldn’t. You know that Eren would do everything in his power to make it better, even if that was just being. You know that he’d want to know and he’d kill to understand. But you couldn’t possibly burden him with your problems, not when he has a million of his own.

The one person in the world you wanted to tell, you were terrified of talking to. And you know it’s irrational to be afraid of him, but you can’t seem to control those thoughts. It’s a tiring, consuming, endless cycle.

Jean watches the way your gaze lowers to the floor. He knows exactly what you’re thinking, and, god, he swears if he could take that train of thought away from you, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

With a heavy heart and tired eyes, he takes a final step forward and wraps his arms around your body. He counts three, four seconds before you hug him back. He raises a hand to the back to your head, cradling your face into his shoulder and squeezing you tightly.

“Hey, I’m proud of you, you know that,” he speaks, just a notch above a whisper, “I know you’ll tell him when you’re ready.”

“I will,” you murmur into the fabric of his shirt. You hug him back a little tighter and close your eyes, “Thank you, Jean.”

And Jean holds on, and hopes you know that he wouldn’t let you go, “You’re welcome, (_____).”

You come home to find your entire apartment littered with flowers; in the hallway, on the sectional, atop the counter, up the stairs.

There are several boxes of your favorite macarons stacked in a small pyramid on the kitchen island, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you checked the labels to find that they were shipped straight from the south of France this morning. There’s too many bottles of Ace on the coffee table, sparkling next to a basket of what looks like your regular skincare products. A pretty, gold bow rests atop an even prettier pair of red-bottomed heels, and if you’re not mistaken, that’s a limited edition, vintage YSL clutch on the sectional, resting against your favorite throw pillow.

You sigh, making your way to the couch to pick up the orange envelope sticking out of the handbag. Just as you’re about to open it, you hear footsteps, and a voice that follows.

“You’re back,” Eren chirps from mid-way on the staircase, “I, uh, there’s catering coming from Butter coming soon. I know it’s your favorite,” he continues as he descends the stairs.

He has his hand on the back of his neck and there’s a faint, pink tint to his cheeks as he slowly makes his way towards you. You cross your arms, looking him up and down when he stands in front of you.

He’s wearing dark jeans and a tweed sweater with patches at the elbow. His hair is split down the middle, longer than usual, so the ends of sweep over his eyelashes; and there are telltale signs that he’d been toying with it.

“Eren, what is all of this?” you finally ask, shifting your weight to your right leg.

“Part one of my apology and explanation,” he replies, a hopeful timbre to his voice. You roll your eyes, but he continues anyway, “Actually, part two is in that envelope.”

Skeptical, you unfold your arms and open the envelope. You don’t know what you were expecting—a card, maybe tickets to a musical or something; but what you definitely weren’t expecting were two tickets to Paris.

“France?” you look up, tickets in hand, “You don’t get it do you? You can’t just buy all of this shit, jet us off to Europe and expect everything to be okay.”

“No, no it’s not like that—I swear!” he interjects, hands moving sporadically, “It’s just, well… Can we sit? Then I can explain everything.”

Eren looks at you with those big green eyes and that sad pout to his lips, and you find yourself sighing and taking a seat on the couch against your better judgement. There’s a small smile to his lips when you do—a little victory—and he sits next to you, your knees resting against each other as you face him.

He’s shaking, and your resolve to punish him with whatever solid exterior and half-assed silent treatment dissolves as you take his left hand in your right, and recall your conversation with Jean. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s me, Eren. You can talk to me.”

When he feels your smaller hand envelop his, the shaking stops, and for a moment, it feels like he can do this, like everything is okay. He smiles, and takes a deep breath.

“The other night, you were right, about my mom and her boyfriend coming home,” he starts, words slow and heavy, “I didn’t even know she was coming—I knew she was visiting this month, but she didn’t tell me when, and I thought it was going to be just her, you know? But then she showed up with him, and, well, I don’t know. I was upset. She’s been home for a week now, and we haven’t even gone to dinner or anything.”

He pauses, and you squeeze his hand for reassurance, “We were supposed to get lunch on Thursday, but she cancelled. Had some meeting or something, I don’t know, I don’t care. Friday comes and she says she wants to have dinner, right?”

You nod, he continues. “I thought it was just going to be us, but he was there. That’s when she told me that… that they’re…” he squeezes his eyes shut, “They’re engaged.”

Your mouth falls into a small o-shape. Everything made perfect sense now.

It’s not that Eren didn’t love his mother, quite the opposite actually. He’s a mama’s boy through and through; she’s his role model, his everything, he adores her. Her career as a designer often takes her on long business trips, most frequently as prolonged stays in Paris, so much so that she relocated her primary office there shortly after Eren graduated high school.

Now, she only visits home for one or two weeks at a time, sometimes only for the weekend. Upon her decision to permanently relocate, she planned to leave Eren under the unofficial supervision of Mikasa. Instead, Eren bought Mikasa her own three-bedroom apartment in Midtown (according to his logic, it was better for her to have her own place than to move in with Jean), and a shared two-story penthouse for the both of you that overlooks Central Park.

Eren misses her more than he cares to admit, but he puts on the same facade every time she comes home because he hates the company she brings.

Paris is where she met her newest boyfriend, Mitchell, and Eren swears he hates that man with every fiber of his being. It’s not saying much, though, not when Eren’s hated every single one of his mother’s past romantic partners, right down to his own father.

“Is… is that why you—”

“Rented a brand new Corvette and went drag racing at one in the morning?” he chuckles, “Yeah. It was stupid, I know, but I was just angry, I guess. I dunno what I was feeling, but it wasn’t good.”

You nod, wrapping both of your hands around his now and offering him a warm smile. He smiles back, just for a moment. “That’s what the tickets are for, actually. The wedding.”

“They’re getting married in France?” you question, to which he nods, “On the first? Isn’t that a little short notice to plan a wedding?”

“I think you’re underestimating the power of Carla Jaeger,” he chuckles, “Apparently, it’s been in the works for a few months now. He proposed with fireworks or some shit. Said she wanted to tell me in person, though.”

“This ticket is for next week,” you say, rereading the dates on the papers. “The wedding is three weeks from now.”

“Well, I kind of figured we could take a little vacation before then,” he grins, “I texted most of the boys earlier, and they can probably come to the wedding, but I want to spend some time with you before it gets hectic, you know? Consider it an end of the semester present.”

Your eyes flicker down to your hand, still wrapped around Eren’s, when he starts to trace circles into your skin, “I thought I just told you, you can’t jet us off to Europe to fix things.”

“You did,” he hums, “And I know I can’t—I’m not trying to, I just… Truthfully, I reserved the plane and the hotel a few weeks back and it really was just going to be a surprise for us—well, more like a gift for you because I know you’ve been busting your ass in chem—but then… everything else happened, and I think a break sounds perfect before I watch my mom get married for the sixth time.”

You watch him continue to toy with your hands for a while, processing your conversation. It was typical of Eren to surprise you like this, so you can’t figure out why this particular present leaves you feeling warmer than usual.

“You sure you don’t need a break from me?”

Eren beams and takes the opportunity to lace your fingers together. “Nah, you’re annoying, but not Jean level annoying.”

You scoff, “I’m telling him you said that.”

“It’ll sound better coming from you, anyway,” he shrugs, “Besides, I might just murder Mitchell if you’re not there with me.”

You chuckle, on the verge of accepting his proposal, but the mention of Jean prompts another thought to cross through your mind. “I’d love to, but I… I don’t know. I don’t want Armin to spend the first few weeks of winter break here all alone.”

This Christmas would mark one year since Armin had seen, or even talked to, any of his immediate family members, with the exception of Erwin.

Last year, you all tried to salvage the damage by sticking around so, at the very least, he didn’t have to feel alone. You and your friends decided that Armin ought to be celebrated, not ostracized for any aspect of himself, so you all chipped in for a cute, impromptu trip to the Catskills so that everyone could be together and close to home.

This year, however, there seemed to be quite a few conflicts of interest. Even if Armin was one of the boys who was planning on attending the wedding, you doubt he had plans leading up to it. You know that Marco, Bertholdt, Mikasa, and Jean had invited him to go to Aspen with them, but Armin declined the offer. Similarly, Connie, Sasha, Annie, Reiner, and Ymir would be off to Dubai as soon as classes ended; an invitation Armin had also turned down.

You weren’t sure what Erwin’s plans were, though you’re certain they involved his own friends in some way or another. At the very least, it was unlikely that he would leave his younger brother completely stranded over the break; but you didn’t want to make plans without knowing Armin wouldn’t be alone.

“He won’t, actually he’ll be closer than you think,” Eren reassures you, “Hange and Moblit wanted to go skiing anyways, so Erwin is taking all of them to the Alps instead of Aspen. Armin doesn’t know yet, but he’s going with them.”

“Shouldn’t Erwin spend his break campaigning, and not skiing? Last I checked, he wasn’t too popular in Queens”

“Ah, you know Erwin,” Eren shrugs, “He has a way of making people devote themselves to him. He’ll win the election with or without campaigning, trust me—the point is, that little baby Armin will be safe and sound under Erwin’s protection, and you don’t have to worry about him.”

“How come you get to call him a baby?”

“Because I’m a hypocritical asshole who doesn’t deserve you, but is hoping you’ll come with me anyway.”

Eren smirks, but there’s a genuine undertone to his words as he moves his fingers to toy with the ring around your pointer finger. The same one he gave to you two Christmases ago. Well, kind of.

The ring he originally gifted you was a Harry Winston piece, with an encrusted band that wrapped into two sunflowers, both made of classic, white diamonds with emeralds sparkling in the center. After seeing the design, and the price tag, you demanded that he take it back, or at the very least, get it sized to fit on your index finger or thumb so that people didn’t get the wrong idea.

Instead, he came back with a simple, silver chain for the original ring to hang from, and the current ring on your finger; a rose gold band with tiny diamonds studded around it. Likely equally as expensive, but more appropriate according to you.

“Fine. But you have to be on your best behavior,” you agree, paying no mind to Eren’s thumb twirling your jewelry, “Do you promise me no drag racing or antics of any sort while we’re there?”

Eren shakes his head at the memory, eyeing the first ring that sits against your chest.

He smiles. “I do.”

The afternoon after your last exam, you bid the remainder of your friends goodbye, grab your bags, and hop on a plane with Eren. It arrives in Paris, but you’re rerouted off to Nice before you can so much as blink at the Eiffel tower; you’d be staying there for the two and half weeks leading up to the wedding, in a small villa.

You had to hand it to him, Eren really outdid himself. It’s dark and nearing three in the morning when you arrive, but even in your sleepy stupor you can admire your accommodations. The villa is secluded, the perfect distance from the water, and decorated lavishly almost to your exact liking. You wouldn’t be surprised if Eren sprung it on you that he’d bought the place, and wasn’t merely renting it for this vacation.

Every day after that, Eren proves he was honest in his intentions of this being a getaway gift to you. He’s planned every activity under the sun—from hot air balloon rides, to helicopter tours, to jet-skiing. The days are certainly fun and filled with beautiful memories, but there’s something special about Nice at sunset; something about the sound of gentle waves brushing up against the beach, and the spotlights carved from sun-cast shadows on the buildings.

It’s just after dinner time, bordering on your eighth night here, when you and Eren are walking along the cobblestone streets that border the beach, the length of your sundress flowing every which way with the breeze, and the tail of Eren’s blazer flailing like a cape behind him.

He looks nice tonight, but, truthfully, he always does. He claimed he hadn’t put on the casual green suit because of your outfit, but you swear he was wearing khakis before he saw your dress. The tips of his ears go red when you tease him about it at dinner, but it doesn’t really matter to you; he would have looked good, regardless. Those suits are made for him, after all; tailored to fit perfectly, and designed by his own mother.

The streets tend to settle down after six, locals and tourists retreating indoors or heading to the beach to relax and draw in the evening. Tonight, however, there’s much more commotion than usual on your route.

“Maybe we should take the long way,” you suggest. On the tips of your toes, you realize that there’s some kind of special event happening in the square, filled with lights and music that grows louder with every step you take.

But the crowd and the lights and the smell of food only piques Eren’s interest. “No way—let’s check it out!”

You don’t have the time to refute before his long legs surpass your own stride, headfirst into the sea of people. You can only follow with a smile and a shake of your head. The soft green of his suit jacket serves as your guide as he navigates through the crowd, but the closer you get to the center, the more people there are.

You can feel palms of your hands growing uncomfortably warm as you become hyperaware of just how many people there are. You clutch the end of your dress in your hand, for both practicality and as a sort of comfort mechanism, as you try your best to calm the anxious wave threatening to crash against you.

With a deep breath, you begin to walk again, unaware of Eren’s actions until you physically walk into his hand, long fingers poking at your belly. You hadn’t realized he stopped walking, or that you’d caught up with him, and your eyebrows crinkle when you look down to see Eren’s left hand extended behind him and towards you, palm facing upwards.

He doesn’t say anything, or look back at you at all. Only wraps his larger fingers around yours when he feels the weight of your hand in his, and continues to guide you through the crowd, his pace slower, and hand firm around yours.

The mass of people becomes more spread out when you approach what appears to be the center of the event; and it looks like a party, maybe a wedding of some sort. There’s food and champagne galore, and more than enough happy guests dancing along to upbeat music in the streets.

Eren’s eyes light up as he takes in the scene, “You wanna dance?”

“What—Eren, no!” you refuse, “We cannot crash these people’s party!”

“Why not?” he counters, without a care in the world, “Seems like an open invitation to me! Come on!”

And for the second time that evening, you find yourself being pulled into his schemes; this time in the direction of the open space dubbed dance floor.

You’re both terrible and ostentatious and people start to watch, but it doesn’t matter because you’re smiling too wide and laughing too hard to care. Eren has a way of moving both with and against the music, forcing your body to follow his lead.

He shouts something over the noise, but you don’t have time to register his words before he laces your right hand with his left, and places his right hand on your waist. There’s a blink of confusion for a moment before you’re being swept off your feet and into a dramatic dip. You don’t have time to secure yourself against his shoulders, but Eren does a fine job of supporting you with a single arm against your back.

From what you can tell the song is far from over and the dramatic pose is completely unwarranted, but you and the crowd alike are victim to his charm. You indulge yourself, looking up at him with eyes too fond to memorize every feature of his face in this moment; the way he’s laughing with that big, dumb, wide smile of his that makes his nose crinkle and his eyes light up.

You’re too busy looking at him to hear Eren’s voice calling out to you, or even realize that he’s moved you from your pose to standing back upright. He’s equal parts amused and concerned at the glazed over look in your eyes.

“Hello? Anybody home up there?” he teases, elongating the vowels and squeezing your waist to alert you.

The reminder of his hands on your hips pulls you back to reality, your eyes fluttering down to his arms, then back to his face. It feels stuffy suddenly, too close to function.

“Yea—yeah! Do you wanna get a drink? Yeah, let’s get a drink!” you exclaim, haphazardly pointing and walking towards the food.

You don’t see it, but Eren looks on with glittering eyes, his verbal agreement heard only by himself as you veer towards the buffet. He can still feel your body in his grip, still see the specks of gold in your pupils as he lingers on the back of your silhouette lovingly. And before you can realize, he snaps himself out of it—an out of body experience similar to yours a few moments ago—before catching up with you.

You end up socializing for much longer than intended. Eren makes friends with everyone, to no surprise, and, uncharacteristically, you feel influenced by his actions, and converse with a few people yourself. You let him take the lead, though. Partially because he’s better at it, and partially because you just like listening to him speak French.

“Hey, we should probably get out of here,” he whispers into your ear after waving goodbye to a lovely couple you’d just met, “Before the host of this party realizes we’re miles better than his actual guests.”

You nod with a smile, more than happy to play by his rules for the evening. He offers you his hand again, that same, dopey smile on his face when you take it.

He leads you out of the crowd and back on to the path to your villa, the smell of warm food and sounds of vibrant music growing dull as you venture further from the celebration. It’s much darker than it was when you began your trek back from the restaurant, but beautiful all the same.

Your sandals pad against the wooden dock that leads up the villa, and Eren unlocks the door silently, ushering you inside before entering behind you.

“I know I said I wanted to leave, but I’m not really tired yet,” Eren confesses, pulling his blazer off of his shoulders.

“Me neither,” you say, placing your small wristlet on the table with a shrug, “What do you wanna do though, I’m not—”

“Great!” he cuts you off, smile too big. You narrow your own in suspicion. That tone of voice with that look on his face usually meant something mischievous, at best. “Remember when you said the first time you’d smoke would be with me, and then pranced away and took a bowl from Hange and got high as shit at Moblit’s party?”

“Why does everyone remember Moblit’s party but me!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, waving the topic away, “Anyway… Do you wanna smoke now?”

You blink. “I… did you… smuggle weed all the way to France?”

“No, of course not!” he refutes, “…I got it here.”

You scoff, but don’t have the time to question him further before Eren’s tugging on your wrist and pulling you into the bedroom. You take to sitting on your bed while he rummages through his suitcase to retrieve a small, clear jar with several rolled joints inside and a lighter to match.

He shuffles next to you in the bed, mindlessly handing you the lighter while he unscrews the top off the jar. He takes out two of the joints, places one next to the jar on the nightstand, and tucks the other between his teeth. He asks you to hand him the lighter, and you do so wordlessly, distracted by the sight of Eren’s gaze and the blunt poking out his mouth.

“This’ll be fun, yeah?” He reassures you, “Technically, you let Hange take your weed virginity, but I’ll be better.”

“Can you not phrase it like that,” you roll your eyes, “You already took my virginity virginity, don’t be bitter.”

An all too smug grin settles on his features as he recounts the fact. “Besides,” you tack on, “I’ve never done it like this before. So, it’s still a first, kind of.”

Eren cups one hand around the joint, sparking the lighter with the other until it catches fire. He inhales, slow and deliberate, as if he were putting on a show, or a lesson, of sorts, taking the smoke into his lungs and out through his mouth.

You’d gravely miscalculated how attractive Eren would look doing this. Sure, he’s hot, you knew that, but the pronunciation of his jawline when he exhales, and the confidence with which he drags on the blunt is a stark reminder to you. He takes a few more hits, just as slow and sensual as the first, and the room begins to feel warmer.

“Come closer,” be beckons, smoke rolling off of his tongue with every syllable.

You snap yourself out of the haze of your imagination and scoot closer to him. He silently hands you the joint, and it feels heavy between your fingers. At the distance, you take in the smell—pungent and off-putting, but too familiar.

Eventually, you bring it to your lips, careful not to let your tongue press against the tip, and inhale slowly, like you’d seen Eren do before. You do your best to hold the smoke in your lungs for a bit, but seeing as the last time you did this you were amped up on adrenaline and drunk off your ass, the task proves to be much more difficult. It tickles before becoming uncomfortable and you exhale ungracefully, puffs of smoke punctuating your coughs.

Eren watches with a grin, amused at the sight of you fanning the excess smoke away with your nose scrunched in distaste. “You should have warned me you were gonna cough like a bitch.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you whine, trying to hide the hint of a smile creeping onto your face. You hand the blunt back to him, “You’re supposed to teach me, not tease me, asshole.”

Eren pauses his laughter, unsure of what to make of your tone; rushed, a bit embarrassed, but testy. It’s quiet while he stares at you, trying not to let the implication of your words run wild in his mind; but it’s futile when you’re pouting like that, the room is growing foggier, and he’s been semi-hard since you accepted his offer.

“Fine. Watch and learn,” he breathes, words coming out more jagged than he’d intended.

This time, he completely exaggerates every motion; he inhales at a tantalizing pace and flutters his eyes closed while he lets the smoke swish in his mouth, down his throat, and expand into his lungs. He cranes his neck upwards, and purses his lips to let the clouds exit in the streamline that follows the slope of his jaw.

Maybe it’s the drugs getting to you, but your mind is filled with nothing but sheer clouds that aren’t thick enough to block out thoughts of Eren. The weed is unattractive, potent in smell, and all kinds of wrong; yet, everything about him is soft, sultry, and pulls you in.

“Wanna try again, or do you need another lesson?”

You faintly mutter a profanity under your breath. His words end with giggles, a sign the drugs have already begun to take their effect on him, his expression is still smug. You forget Eren knows just how attractive he is. Motherfucker.

“Actually,” he cuts your train of thought, “I have a better idea, come ‘ere.”

Eren beckons you forward again, closing the gap between your legs so that your knees graze each other under the fabric of your clothing while you’re sat next to each other. He leans over, far too close into your personal space, as if to test something; he freezes when his nose is mere inches from your face, a dissatisfied scrunch taking over his features.

He reinstates his hold on your wrist, motioning your body backwards until your back is against the frame of the bed. He hums in approval, positioning himself next to you again, equally as close, but far more comfortable for what he has planned next.

“I’m—I’m gonna try somethin’, okay?” he stutters, the first word mistakenly coming out in broken German, “Just, don’t freak out on me. It’ll be good, promise.”

You nod, unsure of what you’ve just signed off on, but you don’t have time to ask questions. Eren takes another hit, then passes the blunt to his non-dominant hand. He turns to face you, leans forward, and places his free hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer; the expanse of his palm leaving room for his thumb to venture over the bottom half of your cheek.

Eren pulls you in until your lips are millimeters apart, and he can see the pattern of your eyes in beautiful detail. He shifts his hand now so that the majority of it covers your face, the pad of his thumb running across your bottom lip. He applies the perfect amount of pressure to pry your willing mouth open, and then, finally, exhales.

This time, you can taste it. It’s woodsy, and bitter, but the sweet undertones dance on your tongue. This time, there’s more to think about than just the smoke in your lungs; like the burn of Eren’s hand on your neck; the pressure of his thumb against your bottom lip; the proximity of his lips to yours; the look in his eyes.

“Feel good?” he doesn’t bother to pull away before asking, and the words ghost over your lips with the remaining smoke. You nod; he smiles. “Wanna try again?”

You let out a breathy note of affirmation, and then he’s inhaling and exhaling into you, and you welcome him with pried lips and a heavy thumping in your chest. The confidence with which he maneuvers his body and the drugs is nerve-wracking, yet comforting at the same time; he has an expertise and power that intimidates, but compels you to follow.

Together, you finish the first blunt, and Eren lights the second without missing a beat. His hands are more demanding this around; they guide you into submission, and he’s pleased to find that you’re willing to listen.

After the third exhale, you stop focusing on his hands, and more on his lips. After the fourth, you think you might be high—not to the stars as you infamously were during Moblit’s party—but with a comfortable, dull buzz in your head. Everything feels a little fuzzy, out of touch, but you host a burning want for something more, something tangible.

You don’t know it, but Eren feels the same.

After the fifth exhale, Eren pulls away, the blunt a simple stub as he flicks it away onto the night stand, and you miss him being too close. You miss his hands, you miss his warmth, you crave his touch.

“Eren,” you call, unable to think of or see anything but him in the haze. He answers with a strained, “Yeah?” keening towards the sound of your voice, wide eyes flitting all over your face.

It’s too much, too close, too hot. That’s when you cup his jaw, pull him forward, and meld your lips together.

Kissing Eren is painfully familiar, and unnervingly satisfying. It’s certainly not your first kiss with him; and, yet he has a way of making you feel like it is while reminding you of your history. His lips are soft, and they taste like smoke and the chapstick you swear by because he refuses to buy or test out his own.

You pull away too soon, gauging his reaction with blown-out eyes, before dipping forward to have him against you again. Then again, and again, and again, until Eren is tired of your leaving, and his hands are back on your neck.

This kiss is deeper, Eren searching to satisfy the hunger aching inside of him, and you’re happy to comply when his thumb is pressing at your lower lip again. You open your mouth for him and he doesn’t waste a moment, brushing his tongue against yours experimentally, and then flush into your mouth.

He groans when you rake your fingers into his hair, and pulls back with a hissing noise when you scratch at his nape. Large hands move to grip at your waist, and he pulls you into his lap with a concentrated gaze—a brief second for him to admire the sight of you on top of him, before he resumes kissing you. He sucks on your tongue, rolls his past your teeth, and bites on your bottom lip.

You know he relishes in the sounds he elicits from you, and under any normal circumstance, you’re willing to put up a fight with him, but not now. Now, you let him unzip the back of your dress and snake his hands beneath the fabric. The rubbing motions of his hands turn into gripping, gripping into grinding, and eventually, an unfiltered moan slips past your lips when you feel Eren’s erection roll against you.

“Fuck,” he pulls back with a suck of your swollen lip, “You’re so hot.”

Eren quickly switches your positions so that he’s hovering over you. You chuckle lightly underneath him, taking the opportunity to run both your hands through his hair and cradle his head in your hold, “Haven’t done anything yet.”

“I know,” Eren murmurs, dipping his head down to press kisses into your neck, “Still so sexy. So pretty, always.”

Eren bites a hickey into your collar bone, and everywhere he can touch; your neck, your ears, your cheeks, your lips. Your moaning serves as the spark to keep him going, but he’s barely coherent himself the way you keep pulling at his hair and grinding yourself against him. Even through his clothes, you can feel how painfully hard he is.

He barely catches your tongue between his lips when you moan again, sucking harshly before bruising his lips over yours again. His hands are grabby again, finally pulling your dress completely off of your body, leaving it to form a puddle on the ground. They’re back on your as soon as possible, massaging over your tits, and running his index finger over your nipples.

“Eren... Eren, please,” you whimper, chest heaving as you look down at him. He rolls his index finger over your right nipple, with his left hand teasing the other with his thumb. You can’t tell if the look in his eyes is a product of the weed, or just his glassy, borderline predatory stare, but it makes you shiver with pleasure when he wraps his mouth around your nipple and sucks.

“I want you.”

“Want you, too,” Eren hums, pulling back with a thin trail of spit from your breast, before moving to give your left nipple the same treatment, “More than you know.”

You keen to him when he teases his teeth against you, finally having had enough you force him off of you with a tug of his hair. “Then take off your clothes.”

Eren blinks, wide-eyed but glazed all the same. He chuckles lightly, a blush spreading over his cheeks as he nods. He sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head, forgoing undoing the buttons, and pauses briefly with his hands over the zipper of his pants.

“Please tell me you’re not that gone that you forgot how to undo your zipper,” you tease him, chest still heaving from his previous ministrations. Eren smiles, doe-eyed and hazy, and shakes his head.

“No,” he reassures you, finally undoing his zipper and shimmying his pants off his legs, “Was trying to remember what underwear I was wearing. Didn't want it to be embarrassing.”

His honesty makes you laugh, and Eren pauses for a moment to soak it in. Even like this, even with him stumbling over the steps to undress himself, and you almost completely naked in front of him, he can make you smile. There’s something equally sexy and endearing about your giggles; a juxtaposition that makes him want to hug you or kiss you or something in between. And you—you like the look in his eyes even through your giggling; the way he smiles back and blushes and tells you exactly what he’s thinking.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “Don’t think mine are particularly sexy either.”

Eren hums, shuffling back on to the bed so that he’s between your legs, and leans forward to kiss you again. He still can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, his fingers immediately flying to your underwear and peeling them off your legs, pulling you closer despite the lack of space between your bodies.

“Yeah, doesn’t matter,” Eren echos, tossing the offending item to the side, before cupping your face in his hands, “I’d still wanna fuck you in your granny panties.”

“You wanna fuck me?” you question, eyes sparkling and hopeful.

“Yeah, I do,” Eren can’t help but to smile again, happy and high and drunk on you, too, “Will you let me?”

Your feverish nodding is all it takes for Eren’s mind to go hazy again; clouded with you, you, you. You pull him into a kiss, arching your body into his, and running your hands down the sides of his back. He moans at the feeling, punishing you by nipping at your lower lip and pressing your stomach back to the mattress with his palm.

Your eyes meet his as Eren lines himself up with your cunt, teasing your folds with the head; but it doesn’t take long before he finally pushes in, sheathing himself inside you completely without movement. He waits a minute, whether it’s to make you comfortable, or to gather his own bearings, you’re not sure; but when he’s ready, he flashes you a smile and waits for one in return, before he starts thrusting.

You know Eren’s not gentle; rough whether or not he intends to be by virtue of his size in comparison to you, but you seem to have forgotten just how capable he is of making you lose your senses. He has you gasping, grasping at him at him unintelligibly, feeling full with his cock inside of you.

Eren groans, borderline growls, when he feels you clench around him, when he sees you shaking beneath him. He could do this all; could watch you all day.

“So pretty, the prettiest. Prettiest girl, my favorite girl,” Eren praises, eyes raking up and down your thrashing body, “My favorite fucking girl.”

“You—you, too.”

“Yeah? I’m your favorite, too?” Eren coos, reaching out to guide your arms over your head, the force of his body pinning your hands down; you can hardly gasp before he lacess your fingers together, and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“Promised you, didn’t I? That I’d be good to you, be on my best behavior,” Eren reminds you, leaning forward.

He eyes your necklace—eyes glued to ring around it—bouncing with your body. He bends his head down to kiss it, bites at the skin near it; a possessive streak overcoming him as the diamonds shine against you. “I said I’d treat you good, always. Meant it.”

He stutters, when you squeeze him back; fingers tightening around his hold, your pussy clenching around his cock. Your whining is insistent, and mixes with Eren’s low moans and guttural noises. Eren doesn’t let up his pace, fucking you fast and deep, and it’s only a matter of time before you feel a knot twisting in your belly.

You attempt to move your arms, searching for a release of the feeling building up inside of you but Eren is strong; stronger than you, and he keeps you in your place. Keeps your arms pinned above you, keeps his palms pressed into yours, keeps his lips hovering above yours, just out of reach.

“Eren,” you call his name through shaky moans.

“Yeah? What, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, his lips needy and hungry over yours. Eren fucks you and kisses you through your orgasm, tasting your moans on his tongue in timing with him cumming inside of you. You don’t let up; kissing him lewdly while you both come down from your highs.

“So good,” Eren croons against your lips, down your jaw, into your skin, “So good for me.”

You both moan in chorus when he finally pulls out, Eren’s head laying on your collar, nose nuzzling into your neck. He lets your hands free, and immediately you wrap them around his back, holding him close as you both attempt to catch your breaths.

You don’t know how long you lay there like that, with Eren on top of you, and your thumb rubbing circles into his cheek while he sleeps soundly. Maybe an hour, maybe more, maybe less; but the euphoria of your sex doesn’t quiet seem to fade.

It might last all night, maybe even for the rest of your trip but you don’t mind. You think back to earlier in the evening, when you’d caught his gaze after your dance. The feeling isn’t all that different; warm, and fuzzy, and too much and not enough all at once. It feels good, it feels like Eren.

You hum softly to yourself, careful not to wake up the sleeping boy on your chest, when you realize exactly what these two moments have in common: a rare event in which Eren is still in front of you, steady and stagnant, no running or chasing; and you don’t want to let him go.

Sometimes Eren thinks you act oblivious on purpose just to fuck with him, because there’s absolutely no way you—or any human with a functioning nervous system and social cues—can’t tell that he’s completely, stupidly, and embarrassingly in love with you.

Long gone are his days of trying to deny it or get over it. He realized that sophomore year of high school—almost eight years ago—that no matter where he went, what kind of drug he inhaled, or how hard he tried, you’d be permanently etched into his heart. That doesn’t make it any less exhausting, and, in fact, only makes it more astounding that you haven’t caught on yet. Honestly, Eren’s considered hiring a private psychiatrist just to make nothing’s wrong with you.

Amazingly, the remainder of your vacation continues just like the former half. The only exception being that now you’re in Paris. And that he’s shamelessly coerced you into letting him fuck your brains out on several occasions. But besides that, everything’s chill.

Just two best friends traveling through France together and stopping to fuck in any semi-private location they can find. Just two peas in a pod walking along the Champs Elysées at damn near midnight. Just two best buds with linked arms tasting (see: feeding each other) every macaron flavor they come across while violinists play stupidly romantic, classical music in the background.

He knows he should probably talk to you about it, but for some reason he can’t. Like telling you would make it all too real, and give it a meaning that could so easily be taken away from him; give you a reason to want to leave him. Right now, it’s just a fantasy, and he’s free to keep dreaming, believing that he’s special and worth enough for the affection you’ve shown him.

He doesn’t want to be one in a list of your boyfriends, or fiances, or husbands; he wants to be your only one, and if he can’t be, then he’d rather be stuck to your side as your best friend. At least that way, in someway, he could remain special to you; not a forgotten, ordinary ex of your past.

Though, a best friend who he’s sleeping with regularly and he’s in love with and will always be in love with is starting to sound a lot like a husband to him. At least, the kind of husband he would like to be to you.

You call his name, asking him if he wants to try another sweet. Eren rolls his eyes. What he wants is to fuck you, and marry you, and have you bless his stupid little existence with two runts for kids that look like him but act like you so his life savings don’t run out by the time they’re twelve. But sure, he’ll settle for having you feed him another macaron in the meantime.

“This one tastes just like the coconut one,” he mumbles, chewing his way through the pastry you’d stuffed into his mouth whole.

It’s the seventh bakery you’ve stopped at tonight, and even though Eren’s growing pretty sick of the sugary treats, he’ll walk with you to every damn bakery in Paris tonight if that’s what you want.

He blinks at the thought. He’s so lovesick it’s disgusting. And he wouldn’t do a damn thing to change it.

“That’s probably because it’s almond and coconut flavored,” you say, wiping the stickiness from your fingers onto a napkin.

“I didn’t taste any almonds.”

“I don’t even think you could spell almond, much less tell me what they taste like.”

Eren simply pouts in refute, leaving you giggling at his expression. He doesn’t know if it’s possible, but you seem even prettier in Paris than in Nice. But, that’s probably his rose-colored glasses speaking.

“You think there’ll be macarons at the reception?” you question, biting into yet another pistachio flavored treat, “And if not, would it be rude to bring my own?”

He chuckles. “Yes, babe, I’m sure there will be macarons there.”

He’s always loved Paris, even when his mom moved away here and left him in New York, and he’d always loved it more when you’re with him. He feared that having to attend another, what he considered to be wasteful, wedding in arguably one of his favorite places in the world would leave a bitter taste in his mouth; but, thankfully, he’s only fallen deeper in love since being here.

“You sure you won’t be sick of them by tomorrow?” he asks, watching you debate between taste testing another variation of vanilla bean or rosé.

“How could I get sick of them?” you answer offhandedly, not sparing him a glance away as you choose the pink snack. How could he get sick of you.

“By the time we get back to New York you’ll have forgotten all about them,” he scoffs.

“Don’t worry I’ll quit it soon. I’ll have to eat something solid if I wanna take my meds and go to bed,” you spew with a smile, unaware of what you’ve actually just said, “But they are delicious and I have no regrets.”

Eren pauses. Then so do you, mouth stuffed with sickly sweet.

“I mean—”

“I know, you know,” he cuts you off, “About the meds and stuff.”

You look like you could pass out, or scream, or cry, or everything in between. Eren figures saying more is better than saying less, so he continues.

“I saw a bottle in the bathroom a few months ago,” he admits shyly, but careful about his tone, “Didn’t understand half the words on the label, but it had your name on it so I just, uh… Googled it.”

Of course he knows. Eren’s always kind of known, just never had the words to express it. He imagines that’s what you’re feeling right now.

“Oh,” you finally gape, “Why didn’t you, um… you know, like, say… anything?”

“It seemed like your secret to tell,” Eren shrugs, features softening out, “Besides, I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

Eren’s always been better at showing than saying, anyway. He hopes that his actions, small as they may seem, might have provided you with any sort of comfort in the past few months. Maybe even before that, too.

“Oh,” you repeat, continually blinking at him, “That’s… that’s it? You’re cool with it?”

Now it’s Eren’s turn to blink. “What do you mean am I cool with it? They’re your meds.”

“Yeah, but like… you’re not mad I didn’t tell—”

“Of course I’m not mad,” he cuts you off with a soft smile, “It’s not really my business. I mean, like, you’re my business because I care about you, but you have your own private stuff, too, which is cool. Besides, when I was, uh, researching it, I learned that it can be hard to tell people stuff like that even if—”

Eren shuts up when he feels your weight against him and your arms wrapped around him. Shell shocked, he takes a moment to hug you back, and slowly comes to rest his chin atop your head after leaving a flurry of kisses.

“You didn’t have to look it up or do any kind of research, you know,” you mumble softly into his jacket. Eren borderline chortles, but only hugs you more tightly.

“Of course I did. If not for you, then for myself, because I meant it when I said I’d never seen half the words on the prescription before in my life,” he replies, heart glowing at the sound of your small chuckles.

He’s expecting an equally witty response, but you surprise him when you pull back just enough to face him, a hazy smile on your face. “You’re amazing, Eren.”

Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush—fucking idiot.

“Yeah, I’m pretty great,” he boasts, leaning back into the coolest pose he could muster up while ignoring the growing heat creeping up his neck. It’s all in vain as you reach over to playfully tug at one of his ears.

He thinks you’re pretty like this. All the time, but most notably when he has you in his arms. So pretty, that he has to lean forward to kiss you; you don’t seem to mind, if the way you smile into the kiss is any indication of your feelings. Eren finds himself mirroring your grin; moving his arms from around your waist to the sides of your face.

The workers in this poor little café probably hate the two of you, but he doesn’t fucking care. He’s got his favorite girl in his arms right now, and you taste like almonds and coconuts and like the love of his life.

And he should tell you. Eren wants to tell you, and he finds himself wondering if those same intrusive, fearful thoughts were part of the driving force behind your own reason to keep your secrets from him.

You pull away from him, hands lightly draped around his neck, and you smile like you’re shy—like he hasn’t known you your whole life. Still, Eren finds himself smiling back; and thinks that if you were brave enough to tell him how you were feeling, then he should do the same.

“(_____), I… I gotta tell you something,” he starts, voice soft as his fingers curl around your waist a little more tightly, “Though, I’m kind of hoping you already know.”

You blink at him, almost innocently. Eren bites the inside of his jaw; you’re going to have to stop doing that before he jumps you again.

Better now than never, he supposes. He tries to shake his nerves when he takes your hands in his, completely covering them with his palms, and closes his eyes. Despite that, you try to offer him comfort, squeezing his fingers as best you can; and Eren takes that moment to thank his lucky stars for whoever decided to put you in his life. Because he knows that no matter what, even if he royally fucks this up, you’ll find some way to be there for him.

He slowly blinks his eyes open again, gaze resting on the ring around your neck. A faded chuckle escapes his lips when looks at it. The only one who got the wrong idea about his gift was you. But, he supposes that’s his fault; he never did explain it, after all.

“It’s nothing… It’s just that, I’m in—”

But Eren’s startled by a voice that makes him freeze. He almost wants to believe he misheard it, but he can hear the telltale clacking of vintage heels on the floor of the bakery and he knows that he didn’t mishear a thing.

Eren turns his head, and sure enough, there is his mother, in all her five foot glory, adorned in designer clothing from her beret to her shoes. With a fucking street urchin on her arm.

“Well, well, well, what a lovely surprise,” Carla beams, red lipstick perfectly in place even after a long day of wear.

Eren’s eyebrows draw together, as he takes in his mother and her fiancé standing in front of him. He can just barely register you calling out towards her, carefully maneuvering yourself off of his lap, and into the neighboring chair; but still keeping your right hand wrapped around his left. He can feel you squeeze it—whether to give him comfort, or warning, he’s not sure yet; probably both.

“It’s so good to see you!” you beam, excitedly offering her and Mitchell a seat across from the two of you at the table. Eren opens his mouth to refute, but you squeeze his hand again; a warning.

Carla leans forward to encase you in a hug, exchanging cheek kisses, and leaving Eren to stare at the street rat across from him. Mitchell seems to know better than to make eye contact with him, irises scattering from Carla’s back to the décor of the bakery while the two girls catch up.

“We missed you at the rehearsal dinner on Sunday,” Carla recounts, eyes fluttering to Eren’s briefly. One look into her son’s eyes, and she understands why; one look into his mother’s eyes, and Eren knows she has him all figured out. “I was worried you might not show at all.”

Eren strategically averts your gaze when you turn your head towards him, choosing to look at his mother instead.

“I didn’t even know there was a rehearsal dinner,” you tell her, tone polite, but Eren can hear the clear jab directed towards him, “I’m sorry, I—we would have gone, otherwise.”

“No need to apologize, darling,” Carla smiles, “I’m sure you two were very busy.”

“We were,” Eren cuts in, words definite. He sees a hint of surprise flash in his mother’s eyes briefly, expertly covered up with her sweet demeanor. She only nods in understanding, sitting back a bit to wrap her arm around Mitchell’s.

“What are you even doing here, Ma?” Eren questions, even as you do the same with his hands under the table, “Isn’t it bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”

“After the third or fourth wedding, you grow tired of pleasantries and superstitions, my love,” she replies, “This place makes Mitchell’s favorite macarons, we thought we’d share a few before the big day. Maybe get some tea as a pre-celebration.”

The topic of sweets has you speaking up once again, engaging both his mother and Mitchell in a discussion about them, and your other findings from bakery hopping earlier. If Eren didn’t love you to pieces, he would have left the table a long time ago.

It carries on much longer than he can bear to endure; almost an hour of you, and his mother, and Mitchell making pleasant conversation while he tries his best not to brood beside you, but it’s futile. He feels like a little kid again. Stuck at the dinner table with his mother and a man he was being forced to get to know, only for him to become a stranger to him in a matter of months.

Eren grinds his teeth into each other when you laugh at something Mitchell says. He’s not going to sit through his any longer; or ever again.

“Well, this has been fun,” Eren says, voice blatantly monotonous as his cuts through the conversation, “But we should all probably head back go to bed. Big day tomorrow.”

“Eren, we should—” but, he stands up quickly, hand wrapping around yours to force you upwards too.

He doesn’t care to look at you, knowing the dissatisfied expression he’ll be met with. He fishes for his wallet and pulls out too many Euros, neatly tucking them under an unused knife to pay for the meal.

Eren’s steps out from between his chair and the table. “We’ll see you guys tomorr—” But is stopped before he can take three steps away.

His mother’s hand wrapped around his wrist. She stands, significantly shorter than Eren’s full height. “Actually, Eren, could I borrow you for a bit?”

And he doesn’t want to, because he knows exactly the conversation waiting for him. But he looks down at her, lets his eyes flicker to you, and back to her, and he knows he doesn’t have the heart to walk away. Not even if he tried.

He sighs with a shallow nod. He can feel your hand on his shoulder, the proud smile on your lips when you tell him that you’ll meet him back at your hotel. Mitchell ensures him and Carla that he’ll make sure you get back safely, and Eren still can’t stand the guy, but he’s grateful that he can at least be of use for something.

Eren kisses you on the forehead briefly, a promise to you and himself that he’ll finish his confession later. After all, he probably should come to terms with the woman who taught him what love is before he vowed to love you for the rest of his life.

The walk to his mother’s hotel is silent, Eren choosing to keep to himself, hands stuffed in his pockets to prevent his mom from holding them. He’s probably acting like a child, but isn’t that what he is to her; isn’t that she treats him as.

“Look, Ma, you don’t need my approval to marry him,” Eren grumbles, when they finally exit the elevator into the hotel room, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Of course I don’t,” Carla offers him a small grin, even if he won’t look at her directly, “But it matters to me.”

“Why does it matter now? It didn’t matter with Keith, or Henry, or Henri with an I, or any of the others,” Eren mumbles, reluctantly taking a seat on the stool opposite the vanity.

His mother tracks his movements with soft eyes and an amused grin as Eren absentmindedly bends a knee and begins to fiddle with the hem of his pants. Just like he used to when he was upset as a child.

“It mattered then, too, Eren,” she tells him, sitting on the stool and facing him.

He’s surprised by her words, his wide eyes giving him away even if he attempts to act unfazed. “It didn’t seem like it.”

Carla opens her mouth to speak, but closes it, words stuck in her throat. She watches Eren’s hunched figure, her tall son not even bothering to look her in the eyes. She exhales slowly; if he were five feet smaller, he’d have tucked himself under her arm, still refusing to look at her, but he’d have snuggled his head into her side while he pouted anyway.

“I suppose it didn’t,” she admits, “In the end, the love wasn’t enough to make it last, then.”

Eren is quiet for a bit at that, pulling at his pants leg. “And… and you love him enough, now?”

“It’s more than love, Eren. It’s... happiness—for yourself and another person—it’s being okay with somebody knowing you now, and forever. Whichever version of you that is.”

“Then why did you marry them before?” Eren asks, “If you knew it wasn’t enough, if you knew it was just going to end up as another big mistake.”

“Maybe the marriages were a mistake, and some of what came with them, but I don’t think the feelings were,” Carla muses, “Love is never wasted.”

“How can you say that?” Eren questions, disbelief and exasperation painted on his face, “Of course it is—you wasted your time, and your money, and your—your everything on those people who couldn’t care less about you now!”

“Eren—”

“You let them into our house,” Eren speaks over her, “You let them into your life, and they left. They always left—”

“Eren—”

“—And you even let some of them come back! Everyone, you let everyone have another chance, another anniversary, another wedding,” He’s ranting, crying, hot, irrational tears streaming down his face; hiccups interrupting his speech, “So—so, so if it’s not wasted and everyone gets another chance and another chance and another chance—why didn’t he come back, huh? For his?”

Eren’s standing now, arms flailing every which way during his breakdown, but his mother doesn’t try to stop him. She lets him continue, hears him out.

“If it’s love—if it’s not wasted, and it’s real—then why didn’t he come back? Why didn’t he want to? Why—why didn’t he want me? Why did I end up the bastard?”

Eren looks his mother in the eyes for the first time in the duration of their conversation with that final question; with his vision blurry, and chest heaving, and cheeks wet. Carla has no words to say; can only carefully open her arms, and wait for her son to come crashing into them. And he does; and it rains and pours, and Eren holds onto his mother for dear life, and onto the pieces of her breaking heart.

“Am I not good enough to have that kind of love?” Eren asks through tears, “Am I not special enough to want to know?”

“Eren,” she finally speaks, moving to cradle his head in her hands, “You don’t have to be special or good, to be known or loved. It’s enough that you were born. That’s enough to make you deserving of love.”

She doesn’t mind the tears against her palms or the hiccups of Eren’s breathing, “And you already have it.”

And Eren looks at her with eyes wide and wild like a child, staring at the first person to have ever loved someone as messed up, and plain, and ordinary as him; and he can feel more tears bubbling at his eyes.

“Ma, I’m—I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, wrapping his arms around her even tighter, chin resting on her shoulder while his shake through his tears, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Carla hugs her son as close as she can, like he’s five years old and the apple of her eye and she can take all his pain away. “You don’t have to be. You’re my son, and I’ll love you always.”

It feels like they have all the time in the world like that, to hug and cry and apologize; but Carla hopes Eren knows that he was always forgiven; that he never had anything to apologize for in the first place.

“She loves you, too, baby,” she coos, holding Eren as tight as possible, “But you have to let her know that. That you accept it.”

“Do you think she knows?” Eren asks, words muffled into the fabric of her clothing, “That I love her, too?”

“I do,” Carla confirms, pulling away to look at Eren in the eyes; his beautiful, shining, green eyes, “But I don’t think that either of you really realized it. I mean, you did give her an engagement ring, darling.”

Eren huffs at the memory, “She thought it was a gift.”

“Because you gave it to her as a gift.”

“I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“Love has a way of making people blind,” Carla muses, “Especially two lovesick semi-adults with too much money on their hands.”

Eren’s cheeks grow pink at the accusation, “It’s your money!”

“Yes, and I’m very happy to have it,” Carla chuckles, motioning for Eren to stand up. He does, and she looks up at him with glimmering, proud eyes. “Now, go, shoo. You have a girl to propose to, don’t you? There might be two Jaeger weddings this weekend.”

Eren nods, certain of himself for the first time in a while. He turns on his heel with a vigor igniting his footsteps, but pauses when he reaches the elevator. He makes a sharp turn, running back to his mom one last time, and squeezing her suddenly, and tightly against him.

“I love you, mom,” he says; the words too foreign on his tongue, and he vows to not let them be a stranger to his vocabulary from here on out.

“I love, you, too, Eren,” Carla calmly wraps her arms around her son one last time, “And I always will.”

You half-expected your walk back to your hotel with Mitchell to be painfully awkward, but he proves to be a pleasant conversationalist, even in Carla’s absence.

You know that Eren isn’t fond of him, but you wish that he would at least give him a chance. There’s no way to know if a marriage—if any relationship—will last forever, but, sometimes, you think it’s not about knowing about forever; but, rather about wanting it to make it there; about willing to go the distance with that person.

You can see that want, that willingness that works alongside love in Mitchell and Carla’s relationship, that stands out from her past marriages. You get the feeling they’re going to last; and that, most importantly, they both want it to, too.

It’s quiet out as you both walk the streets of Paris, Mitchell taking the time to point out small notes in architecture that interest you. You readjust your jacket as a gust of wind washes over you, careful to make sure your necklace doesn’t snag against your clothing.

“That’s a beautiful ring,” he calls to you gently.

“Thank you,” Surprised, you quickly let out an embarrassed cough, looking down to your left hand resting atop the uppermost button on your coat. “It was a gift.”

“I meant that one,” Mitchell corrects, carefully gesturing to his own neck to indicate that he was talking about the ring on your necklace, and not the one on your finger.

“Oh, thank you,” you repeat, “That one was actually a gift, too.”

The older man hums, continuing your walk to your hotel. “Must have been one hell of a gift. I don’t know many people who give out engagement rings as presents.”

“Oh, no, no, no, it wasn’t—it’s not an engagement ring,” you tell him, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks even in the chilly atmosphere of the night, “Eren gave it to me, actually, a few years ago—it was a Christmas gift.”

“Eren, huh?” Mitchell smiles fondly, “That makes sense. Carla tells me how much he cares about you.”

“You—she does?” you stutter. Mitchell nods. “I—I mean, I care about him, too.”

“Enough to accept an engagement ring from him, it seems,” Mitchell taunts, “I’m no specialist, but I know a Harry Winston piece when I see it. They’re not cheap.”

“Trust me, I know,” you scoff, “I almost killed him when I saw how much he spent on it.”

“And you took it, anyway?”

“Well, he—he was supposed to return it,” you defend yourself, “Because I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea! But he just, well, he gave me the other one instead, so I wear that one on my hand.”

Mitchell pauses, just as you both stand to the entrance of your hotel. “And what was the wrong idea you didn’t want people getting.”

“That... that...,” you pause, thinking back to that Christmas day.

Even though Eren is known for spending ludacris amounts of money, the ring came as a genuine surprise to you. A couple thousand on shoes, sure—you’re victim to that yourself; a couple hundred thousand on a lavish vacation wasn’t out of the ordinary, either; but a million, maybe even more, on a ring that you could have only ever asked of him in your dreams was another thing completely.

And, sure, even a few million didn’t mean much to you or Eren at the end of the day, but it wasn’t just the price; it was the object of the money, too. To accept a house, or a car, or a jet for that amount is something you could rationalize; but a ring seemed foreign, and far out of your league.

Then there was the display and value it held beyond money. It’s beautiful, gorgeous, but more than that, it’s tailored to your exact liking. The synthesis of your aesthetic and everything you could ask for, garnished with the memory of Eren in the very design; the diamonds you love, the flowers that remind him of you, and the way they stems wrap around each other and the petals meet in the middle.

A small gasp leaves your lips and instinctively, you reach to clutch the ring in your hold. There was no way this was an engagement ring... Eren hadn’t proposed to you when he gave it to you—in fact, he was so casual about it, that it had you stunned that he hadn’t thought to consider that other people might think it meant something more than what he intended it to be.

But, looking back, it seems like you’re the only one who didn’t understand what was going on. Because Eren told you, even then, that he’d wanted you forever; you didn’t know how to hear him. It was all right there—not just in the ring, but in all his gifts, in the entirety of your friendship.

Eren loves you, more than you could ever know.

“It’s an engagement ring,” you say aloud, but more to yourself than to Mitchell, “Oh my god, it’s an engagement ring.”

Mitchell can’t do anything but smile at your revelation. You’re practically bouncing off the walls, connecting the puzzle pieces of your relationship in the middle of the street at damn near midnight, but you don’t care; because it finally feels right, and it finally, finally all makes sense.

“He, but he never pro—oh my fucking god, I’m going to kill him.”

You feel elated and confused and happy and murderous all at once. Eren wanted to marry you; Eren loved you. He wants you for the rest of his life, and you’ve been too blind to see it this entire time.

Still, you think that maybe a verbal proposal might have helped to open your eyes a bit.

“Mitchell, I have to—”

You’re cut off by the echo of your name coming from the opposite end of the street, and you can just barely make out of Eren’s figure in the faded lights of the street lamps. His name falls from your lips like a whisper, and you hardly register Mitchell’s amused, soft laughter from beside you.

“I think that’s my cue,” he says, patting you on the shoulder, “I better get back to Carla. Something tells me you two have a bit to talk about.”

You can barely nod at him, eye still wide and stunned, but a smile on your face even in your fearful anticipation. You don’t have time to thank him before he turns away, bidding you goodnight; and then you have something else to focus on, as Eren’s footsteps grow louder, and his silhouette grows sharper the closer he gets to you.

He practically crashes into you, chest heaving, hair wind-swept and wild from his running. He puts his hands on your shoulders, to steady himself physically and mentally, labored breaths ghosting over the top of your head.

“Hi,” he finally squeaks; and that stupid, big, dopey grin is on his face.

It’s ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous that you can’t help but greet him back. The two of you stand there, smiling like fools for god knows how long, before the realization strikes you for a second time.

Eren opens his mouth to finally speak, but a pained squeal leaves his lips instead as he feels the back of your hand slap his chest. “Ouch—hey, what was that for!”

“What the hell do you think you were doing proposing to me without telling me?” you screech, packing another punch to his chest for good measure, but it’s a poor barrier and does nothing to stop your tears from falling, “You’re an idiot, I should kill you for this, you know that, Eren Jaeger?”

Eren laughs softly, only to be heard by you in close proximity. He takes your offending hand in his, and reaches for your other, pulling both of them between your bodies. He can feel tears welling in his own eyes, as he looks down at the necklace, glimmering perfectly under the moonlight.  

“In my defense, the first thing you told me to do when I gave it to you was to return it.”

“I might not have said that if you told me what it meant,” you can hardly choke out a laugh through your tears; and Eren can’t stop his from falling either, “It’s insane, you know. This whole thing—to ask me to marry you at 19. For me to not realize until we’re 21.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, inching closer even though there’s barely any room between you, “I know. But I know I love you, every version of you. I always have, I always will.”

You close your eyes as Eren’s hands move to your face, gingerly sweeping your tears away from your cheeks. He feels too close, it feels like too much; but you don’t want him to move.

“You know... if you had asked me, then,” you start, blinking your eyes open with a sniffle; you’re met with Eren’s emerald greens one with far too much hope and love glimmering in them, “I—I don’t even know what I would have said.”

“And if I asked you now?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, slowly raising your hands to wrap around Eren’s wrist, and lower them to your neck, before looking at him again, “Ask me.”

Eren blinks, carefully trailing his hands up and around your neck, nimble fingers undoing the clasp of your necklace. He hardly lets the chain pool into his hand before it’s tossed aside, and the ring is still between his thumbs and index fingers as he lowers himself on to one knee.

“You are the love of my life, and there’s not a single version of life—a single version of you, or me—where I don’t want to be with you forever,” Eren says, “And you know how shit I am with my words, but I fucking mean it. I swear to you, that I’ll do my best every day to show you how much you mean to me; marry me, and I’ll prove it to you, I swear, I will.”  

Your lips are wobbling at Eren’s confession below you, and you can just barely beckon him upwards in your state. He’s hardly back on two feet before you’re pulling him against you, ghosting the word “yes” on his lips before you kiss him.

You both melt into the kiss, Eren’s hands skillfully cupping your cheeks, while he keeps the ring in his hold and bruises your lips together.

“You don’t have to prove it to me, Eren,” you assure him, hand shaking when you pull apart and let him slip the ring onto your finger—where it belongs, “You already have.”

For his first birthday as a married man, Eren requested something intimate. He wanted just a small celebration with all of your mutual friends, some good food, alcohol, and lots of fun.

Supposedly simple and intimate for him entailed renting out the top floor of the Whitney, which was currently encasing an exhibit portraying some kind of abstract modern art that allowed for a very drunk Eren and Armin have to entertain themselves by trying their best to recreate the paintings using very flawed couples aerial yoga.

The art, paired with the dimmed lighting, Jean’s choice selection of overtly sexual music, and Eren’s pick of overpriced champagne also meant that Marco, Bertholdt, Connie, and Sasha found everything ten times funnier than they were—which meant they were a million times louder than usual.

Jean stands next to you by the bar, watching as Eren attempts to hold Armin above his head by holding on to just his waist. They’re unsuccessful, of course, resulting in both boys toppling onto the ground as the majority of their older friends laugh along.

“Lucky me, I get to take him home at the end of the night,” you drawl, turning to the bartender to order another drink.

She smiles, easily preparing your martini and sliding it you with an inquiry. “That’s your boyfriend? The tall one with the brown hair?”

“No,” you sigh, eyes closed for a moment before taking the glass between your fingers. “That’s my husband, unfortunately.”

× even more notes: this fic. is my baby. it’s been a draft of mine for over two years at this point. it’s gone through various fandoms but i’ve never quite been able to complete and post it, so i’m very happy that it’s finally here! i hope you all enjoyed, and i just wanted to say that i’m glad to finally have been able to share this with you all!

[stickynotestoletters]

Izuku x Male Reader Smut

I'm a dirty slut, so .... yeah

Women DNI please :3

Warnings: you push friend boundaries in the fic but Izuku likes it so it's fine, bottom reader, top izuku, buff tan izuku, big tiddy izuku, God kink apparently, degradation, he calls you puppy, a bit of simp Izuku, breeding kink

Izuku wasn't a simp, okay? He was kind, he was courteous and pleasant to be around! But he always had boundaries with his friends and loved ones. Well....until he met you.

You see, Izuku had a not-so-obvious crush on you (shut it Bakugou). Ever since he met you at UA he kind of let you push any and all boundaries that he had put in place with his friends.

Now don't get the wrong idea! At first, when you both met in your first year at UA it was just little stuff! Like, using his clothes or borrowing a pillow. I mean that's what friends are for right? At least that’s what you told him.

He thought maybe he just needed to chill out and let loose his rules a bit. So you were a little friendlier about how you acted around him as opposed to your other friends, so what?

He could make an exception this once and that would be it!

But then you started getting even more comfortable.

And it was good! He was happy you were comfortable around him! It made his heart fly!

You were being a little touchier with him and it was just friendly stuff. Laying your head on his shoulder and in his lap or even just stroking his hair while you cuddle, but that's fine!

He likes it, he always has and always will!

You ask permission the first time you do these things and how could he resist sitting in the arms of a gorgeous man like you?

Then it stays that way for a while a little after UA.

You get a little bold every once in a while after that but it's nothing he can't handle.

He's working out and doing hero work so he has more things to focus on than his not so little crush anymore.

Even if he stays up at night thinking about all those touches. Thinking about your chapped lips and smooth skin beneath his hands. Thinking about your hands and how much he likes them. Likes them in his hair, massaging his shoulders. How much more he would like them if you tangled them in his hair and pull on it as he's fucking you into his mattress. How much he'd then like it for you to yell and scream his name as he absolutely pounds you into his sheets. How much he wants you to cry and scream his name until the neighbors bring noise complaints and you have a sore throat the next day from it.

So yeah. He doesn't have the time.

Until one night you show up to his door. It's late, almost 4 in the morning, about 2 hours after he comes home from his agency, and he just hears these little knocks on the door. He thinks it's the rain at first until he gets a text from you asking him if he's up and if you could come in.

He's almost dressed and ready for bed but for you, he'd sacrifice any amount of sleep to make sure you're okay at any time of the night.

He opens his door to find you drenched from the rain. And he means soaked. You're shivering in these nice little skinny jeans and a white T-shirt. You're sobbing and your hair is spilling water onto his doormat. "Hey Izuku, is it-is it okay if I come in?"

He can hear just how congested you are, it seems like you've been crying for a while. "Yeah, just let me-let me get you a towel, are you okay?" You start sobbing in front of him and he gives you the towel as he comes back."Never mind, that was obviously a stupid question, come on in and go get a shower."

You're nice and warm by the time you come back to the kitchen, he's made you shower and given you some food. So now you two sit down on his couch and he holds you close to him. he's not saying anything and neither are you, but you know he wants you to talk about it."So, I kinda had a breakdown about some relationship stuff right now." You guys laughed at the obviousness of it.

"Did you want to talk about it?" He looks at you laying down on his chest, tangling your legs with his, in his shirt, in his pants. God he wished you would-

"Kinda, I don't have to if you don't want me to." He shook his head to the sides and you sighed deeply," I knew you would say that, okay, it's kinda embarrassing if I'm being honest."

He laughed at you, "Nothing could be more awkward and embarrassing for me to listen to than when you told me, in detail, about your crush on Bakugou." You contorted your face in distaste at him and he just kept laughing.

"Bakugou is hot and I stand by all that I said asshole." You shook your head. "But I was very embarrassing."

It got quiet again and you put your face in the crook of his neck. "So, I figured out that I ....fuck okay so...." You move back to face him and stare at him in the eyes. "Don't laugh but I realized I only want a sexual relationship with someone at the moment. I started crying because I felt like I'd been lying to myself and I've just been under a lot of stress lately." Your blush is not less bright than his at all and he can't do anything but avoid your pretty little face looking at him than to push you into his chest and look up at his wonderfully beautiful ceiling he's never had the time to admire before this.

"You could have said that to me without the weird eye contact but whatever, go on."

You laugh hysterically, a little high on your emotions, "Okay hear me out. I'm a hero right? And using a loved one as leverage is a very classic villain plan. So I thought that was why I didn't want a relationship. Now I figured out it's just the stress! I want something like that eventually but right now? I just want something with someone to destress."

You move your head up to look at him and he moves his hand away from the back of your head, his emotions are going haywire right now. What is he supposed to say to that??? Do you want him to find someone for you to hook up with or???? And then he realizes-"I am not setting you up with Bakugou-"

"-OH MY GOD SHUT UP ABOUT IT ALREADY IT WAS A ONE-TIME THING." You shake your head and laugh incredulously at him. "I'm allowed to be attracted to people who aren't good for me okay? Is it really that bad?" Izuku rolls his eyes at you, "Yes. Yes, it is."

You roll your eyes back at him," Whatever that's not what I wanted to ask anyway." you scooch up onto his chest a bit more and put your hands under your chin as you look into his eye with your best pleading face." Would you do me the honor of being my destresser?"

He could explode right now.

Like seriously what?

".....You want me to what now???"

"Would you rather I phrase it differently?"

"To make sure we're on the same page yes-"

"Fuck the stress out of me buff man."

"Jesus Christ." He practically lifts you off of him like a doll,"If you were going to prank me like this," he sets you onto his couch and walks to his bathroom to go wash the heat off his face, "do it over text next time."

You follow him into the bathroom," It's not a prank! I'm for real okay? Look-" he looks puts his head further near the sink, he doesn't want you to see his red face,"-the way I see it is we're both busy as fuck. We both are mature adults looking for something intimate, which you have not found yet may I add, that could both put someone in danger otherwise." He scrubs his face and takes a deep breath, turning his water off and looking at you calmly.

"Okay, first of all, fuck you. Second of all, why me then?" He knows he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth but he's not going to do this if it's just for the fun. He wants to actually mean something to you other than someone to fuck. "You could have chosen any one of our other friends. So why me?"

You grab his hands and lift them to your lips,"Izuku, I care about you so much. You're one of my closest and best friends in the entire world and I am so lucky to have you. You have supported me in any way you possibly could, and I hope that I've done the same for you. So I want us to support each other as much as we need in this." You look him in the eyes," Plus you could snap me in half and are one of the only people I could fight that has the stamina to keep going at me."

".....you're so fucking lucky I like you. Fine! Okay fine."

"YES!"

So for the rest of the night(morning?), you two plan out how this is going to work. Rules, boundaries, kinks (by god he's going to need a break), and what times you guy can and can't.

It works well actually. Better than Izuku expected. He's just ecstatic he gets to finally hold you.......until he doesn't.

Now Izuku knows you two discussed boundaries and the fact you can call each other practically any time but for the next week, he seriously couldn't get the mind power to just swallow his fears and call you up. Not to say he wasn't thinking of you, by god he did that every single day even more since then, he just didn't want to bother you.

But then you called him. It was 11 pm and you were very horny. He picked up the phone and immediately just, "Hello?"

"I need you to plow me into my mattress it's been a week, come over as soon as you can, I'll be waiting sir-"

And that was the end of the call. Your house is like 20 minutes away from his but he somehow made it there in 10. He didn't even text you he was coming, so you thought he was busy.

So you were just on your couch, scrolling on your phone until a rushed knock at the door, you opened it, and were immediately kissed on the mouth.

Just a whole ass surprise makeout, he holds you up in his arms and pushes you against the door. You pull away to breathe and just look down to see this large monster of a man pressing his massive chest to yours, heaving so out of breath like he'd just ran a marathon (he practically did). Just staring up at you so desperately, you're not going to lie it was a nice view. You laugh a bit hysterically as he kisses you repeatedly. Then he works his way to your neck, still holding you up with his arms but fondling your chest and ribcage. He nips your neck and sucks so hard you're sure to have some nice little hickies in the morning. You moan as he pulls on your nipples and rubs your pecs in his hands.

Your mind goes fuzzy as you hear him whisper, "Dirty little slut left me with nothing after your little call. Think it was funny?" He kisses your neck again, licking down to your collar bone, "Think it's funny to leave me with nothing? Just the thought of this dirty little pup begging me to come over?"

You moan into a laugh at the fact he seems more desperate for this than you are. "Laughing now are we?" You immediately quiet down, his hands travel to your waist, and grinds his leg into your crotch.

"Oh gods-" He pushes into you again as you moan,"-f-fuck!"

"Damn puppy. Didn't know you had such a dirty little mouth. Why don't you show me how you use that little mouth when I actually get started with you."

He takes you into your bedroom, pressing your hard dick against his own and sucking on your neck even more.

You pant heavily onto his shoulder shaking from anticipation as he brings you into your room.

He pushes you down on the bed into a folded missionary position. You're hazy and in hysterics, as he talks more, "God, look at you! What a fucking slut for me. Come on puppy look me in the eyes and tell me what you want."

You look up and his smile is devious. It's alluring. He's practically ravishing you with his eyes. He’s taking your clothes off and feeling you up, “Your tastey skin, so smooth and soft. Do you know what I’m gonna do to it puppy?” Your head is swimming with full unbridled warmth and lust, you can’t even respond so he takes your face in his hands and makes you look at him,” I’m gonna mark you up so well, give you all the hickies and bites I want to put on you until you’re barely unbruised. How does that sound?”

You yell out, “Yes! YES! Puppy will be good for you please? Want it so bad.” He laughs at your responses, leaving your naked body vibrating on the bed and he moves away to take his own clothes off. His toned muscles flexing without meaning to as he takes his shirt and pants off of himself. Sliding his boxers down his toned calfs.

You stay laying there, letting out hysteric laughs and panting as he stretches you out with his fingers. And he keeps his promise, biting and niping all over your thights and stomach. You fall from your hysterical high as he pulls his mouth away until he takes your dick in his mouth and you’re pushed all the way back up the hill, arching your back and crying out for him as you grab the head board.

God you haven’t been so sensitive since you don’t even remember when. He’s sucking you off and his fingers are reaching just the right spots in you. Sliding onto his fingers down to the knuckle of his pointer and middle finger, flexing and massaging just the right spot, just until he takes a deep breathe. Then he takes all of you into his mouth and presses down on your most sensitive spot,” OH GOD, FUCK! Yes~ IZUKU PLEASE, I’M CUMMING!”

You cream into his mouth so hard. He pulls himself up off the mattress and off your dick once he finished sucking it all out of you. He licks the rest off his lips and hums in delight,” You taste better then I’ve ever imagined.” Ah, you blush so red as he said this. You think to yourself, he was just saying it for dramatic effect. For the moment! It couldn’t possibly be true....

God if only you knew how true that is from him.

He pulls some of the excess cum off your dick and you shiver a bit at his fingers grazing your tip. His magic hands. And he brings them to lube his dick back up,” Gonna fill my puppy with their own cum, how about it, slut?”

His eyes are crazy, this is a whole new side of Izuku you’ve never seen from him. And by the gods above are you excited to see it.

He presses your legs down so they’re almost flat by your arms and climbs up halfway atop your thighs. He slides himself into you and,” f-f-UCK!” He’s fucking huge.

Your partners have been quite average in the past. Nothing to scoff at but not as big as Izuku. You feel lightheaded as he pushes himself all the way in. “Look at you, my pathetic little puppy, breaking on my dick. Not even halfway there pup, but I’ll be nice this time.” He stops and you thank god and curse at him as well. You feel like you’re gonna be ripped apart yet you still crave so much more.

He gives you a second to catch your breathe, then he leans over, presses your legs farther, and starts pounding into your pretty little hole. Absolutely destroying your insides. You’re crying and whimpering and all it does is drive him to go faster and harder. To milk all those pretty little sounds out of your pretty little mouth. You’re crying on his dick and it fuels his ego,” You’re crying already? God look at you, so pretty and stupid on my dick. Such a good useless pup. Never had dick this good. Are you seeing god or something pup?”

His smirk is returned with teary eyes looking up at him, drooling at him,” Ye-ugh fUck-yes God, love your dick so much.” Oh fuck. That’s new.

It was so hot, imagining you praying and worshipping “your God’s” dick. Izuku being rode by you as you cry out for your God.

He laughs hard and leans down to get a better grip on the sheets, stopping for a moment, and then pounding you into the mattress. It felt like he was trying to hammer you down into the mattress to press you hard enough you’d become one with it. “That’s right baby! Ahaha! You feel so good I’m your god? My little puppy’s so dumb on their god’s dick right?”

You cry out to him, repeating over and over,” God! My God! Please god!” And you cum hard, over and over on his dick for the rest of the night. Orgasming and being fucked through your over sensitivity again and again and again until dawn. He finally gives in after getting his fill of filling you up.

God, he was definitely the right one to go to.

And all Izuku could think about you as he cleaned up and got ready to go to sleep with you was how fucking thankful he was you broke all his boundries for him. And accepting the fact that yes, he is the biggest simp for you.

————

-Laika

[bts-hyperfixation]

Needy Boys

BTS reaction/scenario - He needs you

Warnings - Jimin has a Mommy k! nk, general smut

Namjoon

Horniest boy with the biggest adult film collection, but his hand is never enough to see him through 

Needs to be seen to on the regular.

He comes back from tour and WILL NOT leave you alone

But you’re busy

You’re stuck in video calls and meetings all day

And he is sat across from you

He said he just wanted to spend time with you

Promised to work on his music quietly while you get ready for your deadlines.

Every now and again his knee will brush against yours

Then his calf

Then his foot was rubbing along your thigh.

Wearing Pyjama shorts instead of your full pantsuit had been a rookie mistake.

You glare at him as your manager goes over the contents of today’s PPT

(Something that definitely did not require a whole zoom call)

He isn’t looking at you, his eyes are still trained on his laptop but he is struggling to keep the smirk off of his face.

You push his foot off of your lap and try to focus on the screen.

Apparently you are focusing too hard because you don’t see him slip under the table.

His fingers hooked under your shorts before you get a chance to react

His hot tongue delving into your folds before you can punch the mute button.

You attempt to cover the moan with a cough, hoping it wasn’t too suspicious

You swat at his head, but it only makes him chuckle, sending vibrations straight through you.

He stays down there for the remainder of the meeting

Twice your boss stops to ask if you are feeling okay

When the meeting ends you are ready to explode.

You slam the lid down as soon as she has said her goodbye and yank at Joon’s hair pulling him closer to where you needed him.

He obliges happily

After cumming all over his face you yank his head back

“That was naughty baby, I’m working.”

“You don’t need that job anyway.” He smirks kneeling up so you can taste yourself on his tongue.

Jin

Jin doesn’t get needy

Or so he says

Instead he claims you’re being needy

You’ll be watching TV minding your own business and he will sidle up next to you, giving you the eye

“Does my baby need me?”

You roll your eyes every time it happens

You were actually really into your show.

He kisses along your neck, pulling down the collar of your shirt as he goes

“Come on, tell me you need me…”

You should have more of a backbone

But one look into his eyes and you want it just as badly

If not more

Yoongi

It’s been a long week of recording for D3

And you would think all that hyped up energy would put him in the mindset to start throwing you around the room

But no,

He comes home and baby boy needing to be cared for

He is pouty and whining

Practically dry humping you as you try to plate up dinner

He sits ridiculously close to you leaning on your shoulder

Eventually he abandons his dinner pulls you into his lap and start sucking on your neck until you give in and care for him

You have sex in the cuddliest positions

His favourite is when you sit in his lap facing him and riding real slow so you can kiss as you grind

Hoseok

Grabby hands

Man can't keep his limbs to himself

You could have had sex that morning

But if he is already horny again he is going to make sure you know about it

He doesn't keep it PG either

His hands are in your shirt

Hooked in your waistband

And in one particular pair of jeans his hand slipped through the hole in your back pocket

You tried to throw them out but they miraculously reappeared

He has you wear them to add subtlety if you have to be around others

It's not subtle when you jump because he pinches

Eventually he pushes you into the most private place he can find

Cupboards bathrooms offices studios

And in one very interesting case a helicopter

Jimin

Moody, distant, and bratty

He wants to know how long it will take for you to come to him

He makes himself really sad because sometimes you are a little too busy to notice

Eventually you do catch on when you find him sulking and staring at your nudes

You roll your eyes and tie up your hair knowing it's going to take some serious work

He is still pouty when you fall to your knees in front of the sofa refusing to look at you

“I'm sorry baby, have I been a bad girl?”

You run your hands slowly along his thighs and watch him shudder from the minimal touch

“My poor little man, how could I be so neglectful?”

You ghost over his crotch pulling a whine from his lips that forces him to look at you

“Or maybe you should be punished baby. You know you should use your words!”

You squeeze harshly at his crotch

“Sorry mommy, I'll be good… please just touch me”

You squeeze tighter and watch the pain and pleasure flash across his face, feeling him harden and increasing the pressure

Taehyung

When I tell you this boy is needy it is in capitals

NEEDY

You know that look he's been giving the staff lately

Give me the answers

Give me the microphone

Give me you

Does not know how to take no for an answer

Constantly pulling you on top of him

Grinds up into you while you're on his lap

Wants you to feel just as needy as he does

And he's willing to put in the work to get you there

Won't touch you properly until you're practically panting

Jungkook

Jungkook has a bit of an intimacy problem

In that he can’t seem to get enough

Being a trainee so young has given him a complex that love is conditional

He needs you to constantly reassure him

To be touching him whenever possibly

You could’ve just gone for 3 rounds of the best sex of your life and he will still ask you to sit on his softening cock for ‘just a little while longer’

Meaning that’s how you fall asleep, caged in by his arms. Ready to go again when his morning wood makes an appearance

You’ve tried to say no, set a few more boundaries, help him come to terms with his issues and understand you aren’t going anywhere

But he just pouts and makes grabby hands until you get back into bed.

But really who is going to say no to that face.

Masterlist

Tomorrow - What are you doing Step Bro?

[the-pale-goddess]

How is Miss T spending her 30th birthday?👀✨ Does she celebrate it? How does she feel about the 3 and the 0?

Anon, my beloved! Can’t thank you enough for this question and your interest in Tiffany! You’ve made my heart so full 🥹❤️❤️❤️

The big 30 deserves a triple celebration, and that’s exactly the gift I’ve given to my girl 🥂 I went a little overboard with this response, sorry 😅

Warnings: we’re discussing E&T, so expect references to some adult activities jsvksvskvs

Actual birthday

Tiffany insisted that reaching 30 is not a big deal, so she chose to work on August 22nd.

Waving her twenties goodbye wouldn’t make any real difference in her everyday life, but it was symbolic, and this seemingly irrelevant detail put her in a weird, reflective mood.

Ethan knew it was a pretty big deal for her after all. For weeks prior, he watched her stare in the mirror looking for new wrinkles (there were none, but she would always find a reason to shake her head at her reflection and sigh) or plucking out stray gray hairs.

He could tell she’s got a lot on her mind, but she put her brave face on, covered her melancholy with a thick layer of humor and tried to deal with it on her own without burdening others as per usual.

The prospect of entering thirties made her feel a bit lost and confused. Usually confident and fearless, Tiffany suddenly didn’t know which path to choose and how to do it. But the reckless times of irresponsible youth, even if she rarely acted that way, were over. She lost access to that gray area of life where mistakes were allowed. She had to make some life-shaping decisions, and she had to make them soon.

With no hesitation, Ethan decided to be the distraction and support Tiffany needed while her self-searching quest continued.

You bet that E&T were late to work that day 🤡 Tiffany’s ever-caring and thoughtful partner made sure her day started on a high note: with a hearty breakfast in bed and morning sex.

He got up early to spoil her with her favorite Italian style omelette, freshly squeezed orange juice and delicious coffee.

Though he tried his best to be as quiet and sneaky as possible, T woke up anyway. Careful not to ruin the surprise, she pretended to be asleep, but Ethan saw through her act.

Then fucked her senseless just the way she likes.

The afterglow snuggling made it impossible to simply leave the bed and get ready for work, so they stayed in a little longer, enjoying each other’s company and engaging in pillow talk.

Inspired by the occasion, Ethan felt the need to verbalize some of his thoughts.

„You’re well aware that I’m not fond of birthdays, but…I’m immensely grateful for you, and I want you to know how special you are. How important you are to me.”

Tiff (being Tiff) joked in response, saying that Ethan’s advanced age made him sentimental. The truth, hovewer, was evident; her heart filled with overwhelming happiness—she was exactly where she wanted to be: loved, in love, and accomplished, with bright future ahead of her. The thought brought her comfort and boosted her confidence. Little did she know that in a few months her world would turn upside down 🤰🏻ksbksbskbs

Edenbrook celebrated Doctor Addams with a lot of noise—slightly embarrassed and deeply moved Tiff received many wishes and small gifts from fellow doctors and her favorite patients.

After work, E&T had a low-key dinner in one of Tiffany’s favorite sushi restaurants, then drove home to get the finest dessert on the menu 😏

Speaking of desserts…Ethan almost forgot about the most important part of his plan, the birthday cake—a criminal offence, really. After they finished each other They finished the day eating the fancy cake on the balcony, their spent bodies loosely wrapped in the sheets.

Tiffany was obsessed with the choice: vanilla supreme made with custard sauce and Bourbon vanilla, homemade blackcurrant jam, hazelnut dacquoise. Devouring this deliciousness under the stars, comfortably seated in Ethan’s lap as they watched Boston twinkle at night, was definitely worth the wait.

Of course Ethan received a rich reward for his efforts: T went extra with her dinner outfit and new lingerie. She’ll do anything to make him speechless 💅🏻

Birthday party

The gang wouldn’t let Tiffany say goodbye to her youth without a proper party, so she accepted her fate and decided to give in: a fun celebration for her friends takes place on Saturday. One of her sisters, Cynthia, is coming over from San Francisco.

It’s even more special because she organized it with Sienna (whose birthday I HC to be in July)—Miss Trinh waited a month just to have a joint birthday bash with her bestie.

Birthday trip

Last, but not least: a special gift from Ethan! In two weeks, he’s taking Tiff to Ireland where she’ll finally have an opportunity to explore her roots.

Their sightseeing focuses on Galway (her grandparents’ hometown) and the country’s most beautiful natural wonders such as the Cliffs of Moher or the most scenic routes of The Ring of Kerry.

The most exciting part of their vacation, the Galway trip, was meticulously planned by Ethan with the expert help of Tiffany’s Nanna offering some bits of their family history. Unrelated fun fact: Mrs Byrne adores Ethan to bits—she was actually the first and only person in T’s fam to give him a warm welcome.

Initially, they intended to mix Tiffany’s thirty with Ethan’s fourty (30th December for my Capricorn King 🫶🏻), but in the end decided to use his birthday as an excuse for another Eurotrip around January/February (*coughs* remember The Tape?).

I posted a little peek into T’s bday trip shenanigans, you can find the ficlet here ❤️

[whisker-biscuit]

The Birds, The Bees, and The Bottles

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T for mild language and discussions of underage drinking

Summary: Two teens are caught trying to sneak into a bar. Bob finally has a conversation he’s held off for far too long.

Because herbaphony is not the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family.

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

Bob’s phone rang at two in the morning. Judging by the jolly ringtone of Helmut singing Strawberry Fields Forever, it was his personal phone instead of his work one, and that was the real tip off to things being very, very wrong.

He woke up and groggily pulled out of his still-slumbering-husband’s arms to answer the little thing going off on his nightstand.

“H’lo?”

“Bob!” Truman’s voice came out far too loud for the time of night, and far too stressed. “Bob, I’m so sorry to wake you, but something happened with Lili. I need you to pick her up for me, please.”

The older man sat up, much more awake as worry and fear immediately rolled in his gut. Helmut finally began to stir beside him, sensing his partner’s agitation.

“Truman, what’s going on? Pick Lili up from where?”

“The city’s police precinct on Abbey Avenue. She – she called me, but I’m out of state and I wouldn’t get there for hours at least even if I left this instant. She’s not in danger!” He added hastily, hearing the concern before Bob could even voice it mentally. “She didn’t get hurt! She’s just…”

The way he tapered off, the way he hesitated, said more than words could.

“She just got herself into some trouble, and she needs someone to go get her.”

Helmut was sitting up now, and Bob felt the question cross their mental link.

 What happened?

 Truman needs me to pick Lili up from the police station.

“I’m up, I’m on my way right now,” He responded to his nephew verbally, heaving himself out of bed. His husband followed suit despite still looking extremely puzzled, bless him.

“Thank you so much, Bob. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The older man waved a dismissive hand even though Truman wasn’t there to see it. “Family is s’pposed to do that for each other anyway.”

“Did I hear that right? Our peppy petunia had a run-in with the law?” Helmut asked as soon as his partner hung up. He paused, and in a lower tone – “she didn’t kill anyone, did she?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Bob said, pulling a coat on over his sleep shirt. “But something tells me we still have a few things to worry about. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Ohohoh, no, don’t even think about hoofin’ it without me. We both know I’m the better driver.”

“Neither of us are very good drivers, Helmut.”

“Exactly! That little bit makes all the difference!”

The herbophanist sighed, charmed despite himself and the situation. “Alright, alright. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

The police precinct was nearly dead at this time of night. While it would’ve felt eerie to anyone else, Bob was grateful for the lack of people, and not just because he was still an introvert of the highest degree.

Two teenagers awaited them in the lobby, sitting on a bench together. One was hunched over and burning a hole in the ground with his downcast eyes. The other sat straight up, defiant, holding a glaring contest with the officer standing over them. When Bob entered the room first and met his great-niece’s eyes, her self-assuredness wavered for a brief moment. She hid the slip-up behind a wall of indifference.

“Lili,” he said softly. Then, just as softly but with a gruff tinge of surprise; “Razputin.”

There was no accusation in his voice, but the former scowled harder and the latter looked like he wanted to employ his invisibility. Bob studied them both a moment before his husband appeared and broke the tension with his mere presence.

“We’re here to bust you out, kiddos!” He announced with spread arms, cheerfully ignoring the looks he received from every person in the room.

“Are you Truman Zanotto?” Asked the officer who finally broke his gaze away from Lili to give them a disapproving once-over.

“No, I’m uh, I’m Bob Zanotto, and this is Helmut,” came the awkward reply. “Truman called me to pick Lili up. She’s my great-niece.”

A few seconds of silence passed as the officer made no move to do anything with that information. Bob cleared his throat.

“We’re, uh, listed in her emergency contacts for school?”

“I see. If you can just fill out some paperwork first, we can release her into your custody.”

The herbophanist watched the way Raz seemed to sink further in his seat at the mention of family contacts. The Aquatos were also out of state right now too, if he remembered correctly. Perfect timing for two minors getting up to mischief.

Well, up until they were actually caught.

“And…Razputin, too?” He asked, catching the teen’s startled gaze and giving him the mental equivalent of a thumbs-up.

The officer raised a brow. “Is he related to you, too?”

“Well, uh –”

“Yep!” Helmut interrupted, strolling right up to Raz and giving him a merry clap on the back. The teen had a physique comparable to most adult Olympic athletes, but even he nearly toppled forward from the force of such a big man. “He’s my third cousin, twice removed. Big family. Very close. Holidays are an experience, lemme tell ya!”

“Fine,” the officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, okay, I’ll make sure he gets cleared for release too. I’ll be right back.”

He stalked off, muttering something about it ‘being too damn early for this’, and the older couple turned to face Raz and Lili. Helmut steepled his fingers together to rest against his mustache.

“So! Now that Officer Spoil-Sport is gone, are we allowed to know what heinous crime has been committed in the night by my favorite pair of mischief-makers?”

The two glanced at each other. Raz was the one to break their silence.

“We, uh…got caught sneaking into a bar.”

Cold heat rushed through Bob’s core. Helmut blinked once, twice, then let out a boisterous chuckle.

“That’s it? Jesus! From the way you two were acting I thought you’d robbed the First National Bank.”

“…Helmut.” His husband murmured. The psi-king lost his mirth as he caught Bob’s eye.

“Ah…w-well, y’know, while I’m certainly glad we won’t hear about a righteous homicide in the news tomorrow, forgery ain’t exactly a humble hobby either.”

“It was just two IDs,” Lili muttered under her breath. “Not a big deal.”

The ice in her great-uncle’s heart turned frigid, but before he or Helmut could say anything to that, the officer was back. He shoved a handful of forms under Bob’s nose and the herbophanist fumbled to grab them before they all tumbled to the floor.

“Uh, uh, thank you.”

“Alright, we’re putting the pause on this conversation to make you free citizens again, but don’t think that means we’re done with it.” The Psi-King gave the teens the sternest look he could manage. “As soon as we get in the car, you two will have a lot of explaining to do.”

“O-Okay.”

“Uh-huh.”

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

No one spoke a word as they got in the car and started the drive back.

Raz seemed content to continue his efforts to blend in with the background of his seat, still not meeting anyone’s eyes, and Lili stared out the window with her chin in her hand, leaning against the car’s backdoor and letting the lights of the city bathe her in neon sickness.

Helmut, bless his soul, dutifully kept the radio going while he drove, changing the station to something more mellow whenever a song started getting a little too upbeat for the collective mood of the vehicle. Bob sat in the passenger side with his arms folded awkwardly. His brain was buzzing, dreading the inevitable conversation he needed to have with his great-niece and trying to figure out how he was going to go about it.

It surprised them all when Raz spoke over the music.

“It was my idea.”

The two adults glanced at each other, then through the rearview mirror at the fidgeting teen.

“Your idea to go looking for a drink? Or to sneak into a bar to do it?” Helmut asked, turning off the radio.

“Both.”

He still wasn’t meeting their eyes. Bob sighed through his nose.

“I don’t believe you.”

Razputin’s head finally snapped up to stare at him in shock for the fast call on his bluff. “I’m telling the truth!”

“I think you’re only telling part of it, kid.”

“No! I’m telling all of it.”

“Razpu-”

“Oh, come off it, Raz,” Lili snapped a little too loud, making the whole car jump. “Quit trying to take the fall for me. It was my idea to try the stupid fake ID thing, okay? Happy now?”

“Wh – uh, who said anything about being happy about it?” Helmut asked, legitimately confused.

“Look. Neither of us had anything to do tonight, and we were bored, so Raz suggested getting a drink somewhere, but Adam and Lizzie are out of town so we couldn’t ask them.” She crossed her arms and spoke without any inflection. “So, we went out but no one would let us do anything cause we’re minors. I thought that was stupid, because we’re agents same as any of you, so I came up with the sneaking-in part. We only got caught cause one of the bartenders recognized Raz from a show.”

There were a lot of loaded things to parse through from that explanation, but Bob’s mind stalled on one particular detail.

“Adam and Lizzie give you two alcohol?”

“Not…often,” Raz admitted. “Just once or twice, when we asked.”

“Do you mean like, a literal once or twice, or a…an estimated once or twice?”

“Did Dad put you up to this?” Lili shot back. “It was just a few times, like he said. What’s with the inquisition?”

“…Lili –”

 “Raz.”

“Okay!” Helmut proclaimed as he slapped his hand against the steering wheel in boisterous aggression. “Who wants some ice cream?”

Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Cause I’m really feeling some chocolate-vanilla swirl right now. Basic bitch style. Right? Who’s with me?”

Silence.

“Great! Look at that, open Dairy King right there, better take advantage of this opportunity before it slips through our fingers like the melting ice cream we’re all gonna have in about five minutes!”

The psi-king swung into the parking lot in a frenzy and herded the car crew inside before any of them could come out of their shock long enough to protest. It was only as Bob was staring up at fifteen flavors of oversaturated sugary goodness that he realized what had just happened.

He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief over his husband’s diversion. The tension that had been boiling over was cooled significantly by the sudden non-sequitur, and while the teens were rather half-hearted about picking out their sweet treats, there was no longer a risk of an explosion happening.

Metaphorically and literally.

Helmut caught his spouse’s eye with a meaningful look at Lili the moment all of them had their orders in hand, then slung his arm around Razputin’s shoulders and steered him away. “C’mon my lad! Nothing like the cool night air of three in the morning to keep your Hurricane ™ properly chilled!”

The poor boy had no choice but to let himself be pulled outside, leaving the two Zanottos standing awkwardly in the dingy restaurant. Bob gave a nervous scratch at his chin under his beard.

“How about we, uh, find a seat somewhere?”

Lili couldn’t fully cross her arms while holding ice cream, but she did a good job of making it work anyway. “Sure.”

They sat in a booth in the farthest corner from the front counter. Both great-niece and great-uncle stared at their respective sweet treats as if they could teleport them out of this situation. Bob glanced out the window and saw Helmut and Raz standing outside of the car. The former was on one knee with his hand on the teen’s shoulder, speaking earnestly but inaudibly, and the latter was scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt.

“Are you going to lecture me?” Lili finally cut through the silence.

Bob turned back to her. “No. Not really.”

“No?” She broke her gaze away from her ice cream just a little bit, eyeing him with surprise. “Then why did Helmut take Raz and leave us alone?”

She was so perceptive, so smart. And yet, still so young.

“Well, I… I still want to talk to you about what happened. I’m just not very, good, at this kind of thing.” He took his spoon and absentmindedly began drawing a flower in his soft-serve. “You already know what you did wasn’t a good idea, right? So I don’t think a lecture would help things any on that front.”

She didn’t respond. He continued.

“It’s less about the fake ID and more…the reasons you made the fake ID. Does that make sense?”

“I guess so, but I know what I’m doing, Uncle Bob. I’m not going to drink irresponsibly.”

The herbophanist shook his head. “But you’ll do irresponsible things to be able to drink in the first place.”

“That’s not –” Lili didn’t have a good rebuttal. She folded her arms and grumpily started eating her cherry chocolate delight. “Whatever. It’s two different things, anyway.”

Against his better judgement, Bob began picking at his own food as he thought about how best to bring the subject back up without making the teen defensive again. Spoons clicking against teeth was the only sound between them for a solid minute.

Finally, an epiphany.

“Did Truman ever…tell you anything, about your great-grandma?”

The girl paused with a bite halfway up to her mouth. She frowned, confused. “Grandma Tia? Not much. Just that she died when he was a baby.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.” He ran a tired hand over his face. The ache in his heart might have long-since healed into a scar, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when pressed. “She passed away when I was nineteen. The doctors told me it was liver failure.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Lili’s mouth thinned and she put her spoon down, uncomfortable.

“When I…found out the reason behind her death, I was horrified by it. It didn’t make sense to me why she would willingly do something that hurt her so badly, especially when I was right there to love her and help her. It felt like a betrayal that she never got help or made herself stop. I was…disgusted by the mere thought of doing anything like that.”

Bob took a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but better safe than sorry.

“It sounds pretty hypocritical when I say it now, doesn’t it?”

His great-niece only gave him a hesitant look.

“Anyway, uh, where was I…” He worried his lip. “Oh, right. I told myself that I’d never touch the stuff after that. I was angry at what she’d done, and I was determined not to have the same ‘weakness’, so to speak. As you know, it, uh, it didn’t last long. I was at a college party barely a year later when I was invited by some friends to drink with them. I didn’t make human friends very easily back then – actually, I still don’t – so I was a little desperate to keep them. It turned out to be pretty hard whiskey, so I got hammered.”

The man leaned back in his seat, staring at the patterns in the booth table.

“Back then, no one really knew how alcoholism could run in a family. Everyone thought it was a personal choice to keep drinking. It wasn’t even classified as an addiction yet. So I didn’t know how susceptible I was, or how careful I had to be. I’d spend months not having a single drink, thinking I was fine and could handle myself, and then I’d get plastered for a week at parties and bars and God knows what else, and it would take me even longer to get myself to stop again. It was like that even when I was with Ford and his gang. It wasn’t until I started dating Helmut that I started trying to change those habits. I’d never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally that I wanted to be a better person for them, until him. And it worked for a while.

“Well, barring our wedding, of course. I got shitfaced at the reception. It was embarrassing afterwards, but Helmut told me it made our cake-eating ceremony a hell of a great time.”

Lili snorted, and it was accompanied by a tiny upturn of her lips. Then it dropped as her expression became solemn. “And then…everything with Maligula happened, right?”

“Yeah. I think you know the rest of that story.”

“Uh-huh.”

Great-niece and great-uncle sat together for a while, just thinking about it all.

“I know I have to be more careful drinking than a lot of people, Uncle Bob,” Lili finally said at length. “My dad warned me about it when I was old enough to ask.”

“Truman is a good dad,” he murmured in response.

“The best dad.”

“Definitely the best dad.”

More silence.

“I didn’t mean to worry you and him,” she continued. “Or scare you. I know it was dumb to do what we did tonight.”

Bob looked at her, and she gave a conceding sigh.

“Okay, it was dumb to do a lot of what we’ve been doing with this stuff. That doesn’t mean I’m not being careful.”

“Kid, it’s not always just a matter of being careful. I thought I was being careful. I thought that for years and years, and when I finally realized I wasn’t, I convinced myself I could stop any time I wanted to, and kept up the same patterns anyway. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I’m just worried about you.”

Lili closed her eyes with a grimace. “I know. I’m sorry, Uncle Bob.”

“Hey, kiddo, look at me.” He waited until she did so. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not disappointed, either. That’s your dad’s job. I get it, is what I’m saying. It gives you a buzz, and it’s fun and exciting, and you just wanted to have a good time with your, uh…”

Bob leaned in a bit, and dropped his voice to a stage whisper.

“Is Raz still your boyfriend?”

“Wha –” her cheeks went red. “Yes, he is!”

“Alright, sorry, I’m just always out of the loop. No one ever tells me when these things change or not. Anyway,” he continued before she could get brighter than the cherries in her ice cream. “I’m just saying that you gotta be more than careful with this kind of thing. Everyone should be, really, but especially people like us. Plants aren’t the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family, unfortunately, so we just have to be aware of it and act accordingly.”

The teen turned this over in her mind. He could practically see the gears moving. When she looked at him again, it was with a slow, contemplative nod.

“No more late-night bar-hopping?” Her great-uncle asked.

“No more late-night bar-hopping.” She answered, sincere.

“Good.” He looked outside. Helmut and Raz were both lying on the front of the car, pointing out stars to each other. The sight made him smile. “Come on, we’ll work on that whole thing about Adam and Lizzie giving you alcohol another time, when it’s not three in the morning. For now, let’s rejoin our boys again and go get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.” Lili slid out of the booth and tentatively took her family member’s hand. His fingers squeezed hers in reassurance. “And...thanks, Uncle Bob.”

“Well, what can I say. Us weird Zanotto plant people hafta look out for each other, right?”

“Right.”

They walked out together, hand-in-hand.

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

A/N: I knew from promotional material that we'd be going into the mind of someone struggling with alcoholism, but Bob's Bottles punched me hard in the gut. It's probably my favorite mind in the game, both because it's visually gorgeous and because it hit a little close to home with some of the themes, like generational alcoholism and how the addiction can make someone a shell of themselves.

I wrote half of this three weeks ago and then found myself really struggling to finish it because it brought up a lot of old feelings I thought I'd sorted through a long time ago.

Psychonauts, man.

[theirbbygirl]

Second Lead Syndrome

Word Count: ~8.7k words

liked this? there’s more on my masterlist!

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Comedy, Female reader insert

Description: Y/n and Minho have been friends for more than 2 years now, but suddenly she begins to see herself as the mere second lead in Minho’s story. Will she be the rare second lead who gets her own happy ending?

Warnings: some crying, themes of unrequited love (if there’s anything that I missed don’t hesitated to let me know!) 

I’d only ever encountered Second Lead Syndrome in the dramas I’d watched. Wanting the girl to end up with the second lead who was so obviously the better and healthier choice, but like every avid watcher of kdramas, it's more than likely for the main leads to end up with each other, that was just how it worked. What I never thought I’d encounter was seeing it happen before my own eyes and experience it firsthand.

Life was never supposed to be a kdrama. Life was supposed to be simple, a straight line, going from point A to B with no complications. But life never really went my way did it? It just had to throw in one variable, one man that had too much influence on my life. 

I couldn’t remember the first time I met Minho. It was probably sometime in the first grade when his family first moved in next to mine. But alas, we were both too young to remember exactly what sparked our friendship. One day we were strangers and the next we had given our parents a near heart attack when we both went after a stray cat on the way back home (my mom’s words, not ours).  From then my memories were filled with him, just us besties hanging out like anyone would with their best friend. First party, first mental breakdown, first drink, all with him. Soon enough we were in our final year of University, and ultimately, adults. 

The Minho I knew was laid back, not too extroverted but not too introverted either. While I completely contrasted him, always anxious about something, wanting perfection to the T, and completely and utterly introverted.  Our friendship, moving into University, sparked a lot of questions. You wouldn’t typically find the introverted straight-A student with the borderline badboy tsundere walking and laughing in the halls together, spending practically every waking moment together. But Minho didn’t care, and neither did I, so we moved through life pretty easily. 

One of the few things we had in common was our love for cats, and when we both foudn out there was a cat cafe just a few minutes walk from our campus, you best bet we spent too much of our time and money there. Studying, hanging out, anything you could imagine. If we weren’t in one of our dorms, we were more than likely to be in the cat cafe. 

Every day after class we’d go there and we’d complain about our least favorite professors and how lectures would seemingly last for longer than they should. Additionally, Minho had almost become akin to my own dormmate with how much time he spent in my dorm. He’d come in whenever he wished, stealing my frozen pizzas and sodas, using my Netflix account on my TV to watch weird National Geographic shows and make random comments like “that snake looks just like Kim Seungmin,” or “look its Hannie” whenever a squirrel came on screen. Minho was always there when I needed a drinking partner after bombing a test or assignment, pouring me shots of soju until I passed out and bringing me to my bed and tucking me in whiel he would sleep on the couch to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid in the middle of the night. 

Although, more people knew Minho’s name than mine, but that didn’t bother any of us. We continued on being friends as usual, and it felt like nothing would change that. Life was moving in a straight line like it should’ve always been.

At least, that’s what it felt like until February, just a few months before we graduated. 

I make my way to our usual spot in the courtyard after buying an iced coffee and a snickers bar from the vending machine next to my classroom, I walk up behind Minho sitting on a bench when I find him staring out in front of him instead of looking at cat videos on his phone like he usually does. Slowing my walk, I trail my eyes to the vague direction he’s facing and see that he’s looking at Kim Seungmin and a girl chatting outside the classroom. I ignore the thought, opting to think that Minho must’ve spaced out thinking about how he would irritate Seungmin next class. I plop down next to him when he still doesn’t take note of my arrival, so I get right next to his ear and blow cold air into it, snickering when he jolts in surprise. 

“What was that for?” He whines, fake annoyed.

“You got lost up in your thoughts for a certain Kim Seungmin there.” I snicker some more, opening my snickers (hehe) bar.

Just as I’m about to take the first bite of the sugary goodness, the chocolate bar gets snatched out of my hands and a certain Lee Minho takes an obnoxious bite out of it, not even giving it back but eating it like it was his. I pout, watching him devour my snack, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to get it back. 

“For your information, I was not thinking about Kim Seungmin.” He says pointedly, slightly muffled by the chocolate in his mouth.

I sigh, knowing I wasn’t going to get that chocolate bar back any time soon, and open my iced coffee. “So what were you thinking about then?” I ask before taking a sip.

“Don’t know, spaced out.” Is all the answer I get and I highly doubt him, but I brush it off anyways and don’t pry. 

Minho and I slide into our usual conversation about assignments, plans for the week, and everything under the sun. We talk about how he’s planning to visit home the next day and stay for a weekend and how excited he is to see his cats after a long time, I unknowingly smile at his ramble about how talkative Dori is, and just sit back and listen. I never took into account how healing it was to just watch and listen to him talk, the sultry of his voice and his little exclamations of frustration or excitement that came once in a while. I had to catch myself from staring when he turned to look at me, having asked me a question I didn’t catch.

“Sorry what was that?” I ask.

“Am I that beautiful for you to have lost your hearing to my handsome face?” I couldn’t just tell him that that was basically what had happened, it would inflate his ego by too much and reveal everything I’d hidden thus far.

“The heck? No, I was thinking about how great it would be to get some peace and quiet while you’re not around this weekend.” I lie, having Minho around is the only thing that brings me entertainment that isn’t endless sappy kdramas on my laptop, but he can never know that. 

Minho scoffs, says something under his breath that I don’t quite catch, then turns back to me. “You love me.” He says with a pout.

“Unfortunately I do.” 

That was the first of many inconspicuous confessions. 

It was nearing 3 or 4 am and I was about halfway done with another kdrama when several knocks resound through the small living space. Knowing exactly who it is, I only shout back “you know the code!” and moments later the door opens. 

I don’t bother to get up and greet Minho, this exact scene has happened too many times for either of us to care at this point, and it doesn’t surprise me that the moment he enters he shouts, “Honey I’m home!” like we’re in some cheesy romcom. 

“Mhmm, welcome home, leech.” I enunciate the last word purposely, but I know he won’t bat an eye at the term. I continue to chew my popcorn while he wanders through my cabinets, looking for snacks. “There’s chips in the cabinet next to the fridge and sprite in there too. If you want more food order Chinese takeout.” 

“I don’t have my wallet.” I can practically hear his pout from where I sat, eyes unmoving from the TV screen. 

“You know where mine is, but you have to pay me back.” A few seconds pass with no response until suddenly he’s next to me and kissing my cheek.

“I loveeee you!” He says too sweetly, retreating back to the mini-kitchen to order takeout.

“Mhmm, I love you too.” I say, not loud enough for him to hear the confidence missing from my tone. 

Continuing to watch the episode of in front of me, I remain in my comfortable position, only moving to lift my legs when Minho comes back to sit on the couch under my legs and the blanket. 

“Oh you’re watching this one?” He asks, reaching into the bowl of popcorn I offer him.

“Yeah, didn’t have anything else to watch so I put it on since everyone seems to like it so much.” 

“Mm,” he hums while also indulging himself into the scenes playing in front of him. “You’re probably team potato guy, right?” 

“What kind of question is that? Of course I am!” I scoff.

“I don’t know, I still think she should end up with Jae-eon.”

“Are you crazy? He literally leads her on like every playboy and is ruining her mentality by not defining their relationship.” 

“Yeah, but they’re so cute together, and you can totally tell he feels something for her.” He argues.

“Just cause they’re cute together doesn’t mean they’re good for each other, the entire guy is a walking red flag, I don’t understand why she doesn’t just walk away when she’s had experience with a shit boyfriend.” I sigh.

“You, have major second lead syndrome.” He points an accusing finger at me.

“So what? It’s for good reason, the main lead is toxic as fuck and you can’t change my mind.” I upturn my nose, turning back to the TV and continuing to watch the episode. 

The mentioning of the second lead sends a flurry of thoughts into my brain for a reason I can’t comprehend. Sometimes the main leads aren’t that bad but still we want the main character to end up with the second lead, maybe out of our own natural selfishness because we prefer the second lead more. I shake the thoughts away, trying to convince myself that kdramas were only works of fiction and too cheesy to be real, yet for whatever reason I always felt a connection with the second leads, like our emotions directed to our crushes were the same, because I knew that I would always be the second lead in Minho’s story. 

Minho’s name was always called out more times than mine was growing up, which I didn’t really mind until our hangout time would be seriously cut down because he had to hang out with other friends. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that he had friends, but there was a little bit of selfishness in me that wanted him to myself.

A new drama and a few episodes later, plus Chinese takeout, lead to our eventual demise. We both fall asleep on the couch in less than comfortable positions and wake up with stiff-neck, us groaning at the pain. 

We continue on with our usual morning routines, taking turns freshening up in the bathroom before heading out for breakfast at Paws and Pastries since we were both too lazy to make food ourselves. Besides, hot coffee in the morning plus good sandwiches AND cats? What more could you ask for?

When we enter the cat cafe I notice a familiar face behind the cashier, it was the same girl Seungmin was talking to on Friday, and the same girl I caught Minho staring at. We walk up to the cashier, I order my food first, a simple breakfast sandwich with a coffee to go with it and wait next to Minho to finish ordering. 

I made the mistake up glancing up at his face as he was telling his order to her, Ahra, her name tag read. There was something in his eyes that glinted that I had never seen before, not when he talked to Han and not when he talked to me. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion in the middle of my chest before forcing myself to look back down, inserting my card and paying for everything. I sent the girl a thank you and a kind smile after she told us our food would be right over, and both me and Minho went over to our usual table in the back corner next to the cat’s jungle gym and right up next to the window. I get lost in my thoughts while we begin playing with the cats we were so accustomed to. 

Like most second leads, I knew exactly what my feelings were. I was practically an adult, how could I miss the fast beating of my heart or my clammy hands whenever I was around him? But again, like most second leads, I knew I’d never get a chance with him, not when everything we did together was purely platonic. It was painfully obvious that I’d be stuck with an unrequited love for who knows how long, and I couldn’t just detach myself from him all of a sudden to get over my feelings because a) he’d notice and force me to tell him what was wrong, ultimately leading me to tell him that I had feelings for him, and b) the moment I would come back or see him for even just a second I know I would develop those feelings all over again. Neither of which were choices I was willing to take so I suck it up and see him every day, ignoring everything my heart was telling me. 

I look up from the cat that I’m petting in my lap and look at Minho again, only to find him staring at Ahra who was taking people’s orders with a perfect pearly smile. It was in that moment that I knew, I had just found the female lead of Minho’s story.

3 weeks go by in a similar manner. Minho and I see Ahra around campus a few times and with some twisted fate, she’s on the clock every time we go to Paws and Pastries. Minho, being his smooth self, easily gets himself acquainted with her. They laugh and giggle so naturally and can slip into conversation so easily I’m almost envious of Minho and his non-introverted self. 

Not being one to try and stop fate, I watch it all happen. Telling Minho to ask her out already and teasing him about how lovesick he gets when he sees her nearby or at the cafe. I know Minho likes her when he blushes or gets defensive whenever I mention her in our conversations even though he’s never explicitly told me himself. I put on a face in front of him whenever these conversations come up, not wanting to get in the way of his happiness. 

One day some of our friends want to meet up outside of campus, we make plans to meet up at a bowling alley, ready to have fun until the late evening hours. Seungmin brought Ahra along with him, asking if it was okay to invite her since they were friends. Everyone agrees and we all meet up as planned. When everyone gets there, including Seungmin and Ahra, we introduce ourselves, Minho not having to introduce himself and easily speaking with her like they always did whenever running into each other. All the the boys have raised brows and mischievous smiles as they watch the interaction between the two, but only one looks at me in concern. 

A majority of the night passes by with laughter and teasing, how Chan was terrible at bowling this night and Minho easily beating him despite never doing too well on our previous adventures to the bowling alley. I spend the night with the rest of the boys, while Minho and Ahra spend time getting to know each other even more. There’s a point in the evening where I see Minho hold out his phone to Ahra to exchange numbers, I can hear her giggle when they take a selfie together, probably for her profile picture. I have to turn my head away quickly to ignore the cracking of my own heart when Minho puts his arm on the couch behind Ahra, he does it so naturally, yet he’s never done it with me. I will my thoughts to focus on the game and not on Minho, not noticing the same pair of concerned eyes until they speak up.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin asks. 

“Hm? Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” My voice cracks halfway through and I try to hide my sad eyes, even though I was fully aware that Hyunjin had probably noticed that something was up.

“‘Cause you seem pretty affected by that scene over there.” He motions to Minho and Ahra with a nod of his head. 

“It’s nothing, Hyun, just nice seeing Minho talking to more people.”

“Y/n, you know he talks to people all the time, and you’re not nearly as affected then as you are now.” 

“Hyunjin, really, it’s fine.” I try to convince him but he says something that lets me know that he knows.

“You like Minho.”

“What? No that’s absurd I-“ He looks at me pointedly, and I sigh in defeat. “Yeah, okay, you got me.”

“Why don’t you say anything? Clearly it hurts you to see him like that.” He refers to Minho getting cozy with her.

“Hyunjin, it’s clear that everything we have is platonic, he even called me his sister several times. And who am I to get in the way of him getting into a relationship? That’s not my place to say anything, especially when his last girlfriend was 2 years ago.” 

“I get that, but shouldn’t he at least deserve to know? He says that he knows everything about you, but there’s one thing that he doesn't. You know practically everything about him, isn’t it a little unfair?” 

“We have choices as to what we share with each other and what we don’t, it’s his choice to tell me what he wants to and my choice to tell him what I want to tell him. Besides, he hasn’t even told me that he has a crush on Ahra yet.” 

“So maybe he doesn’t then.” 

“Hyunjin, just look at him, he’s a puppy in love.” I glance back over to Minho and Ahra sitting parallel to us. Minho is smiling brightly, more brightly than I had seen in a while and I can’t help but let my lips upturn at the corners just slightly in another sad smile. 

Hyunjin sighs next to me, and I look back to him. “I’m sorry y/n, I really wish he would end up with you instead of her, it doesn’t seem fair to you.”

“Hey, don’t say that, Ahra seems like a nice girl, she and Minho will get along great. And nothing in life is fair Hyunjin, that’s just something you come to accept.” I say, getting up. “I’m gonna get some drinks, does anyone want anything?” I ask everyone.

“Cola!” “Me too!” “Me three!” “A lemonade please.” A few of the boys shout back.

“Anything for you guys?” I turn to Minho and Ahra. They both shake their heads. “Okay then, I’ll be back in a minute guys.” I smile at the group before going to get the drinks. 

While walking away from the group I let a teardrop fall from my eye, wiping it away just before I order.

Life’s unfair, that’s just something I have to accept. 

A week goes by and Minho’s talking about how he and Ahra message often, how he thinks they get along well and he’s gonna ask her out.

Another week goes by and they’ve gone on their first date, he takes her to the beach and they have a picnic. 

Two weeks after that they’ve gone on several dates and are officially boyfriend and girlfriend, I don’t even find out separately at this point, I find out with the rest of the group over dinner.

A few days after that Minho calls off one of our late night binge watching sessions, texting me an apology and that Ahra needs him. I tell him it’s okay and to send my regards to her. 

It’s a week and half after and Minho regularly calls off our meetups at the cafe after school or at one another’s dorms to tend to Ahra. I tell him it’s fine each time and to not feel bad. He did the same today, and I sit alone at our usual table, mindlessly petting a cat in my lap while zoning out into in my mug of coffee. 

All while this happens, I watch, and I let it happen. I don’t fight for him because it didn’t feel right, sometimes second leads let their love fall for someone else, and that’s all it felt like I could do. 

Fighting for Minho felt selfish, especially when I knew I had no chance and he’d already fallen for Ahra. I couldn’t suddenly come out of the blue and tell him “hey, I have feelings for you,” when he’s already dating Ahra, I’d look like a major asshole if I did. All I could do was watch and see how we begun to drift farther and farther apart. 

With Minho being absent more often, I don’t get to tell him much. Like the internship offer I got to continue pursuing graphic design in Itaewon. I got the email almost a week ago, and I had two more weeks to decide if I was going to take the offer. With nobody to consult about it with I continue to push it to the back of my mind, not wanting to deal with more stress just yet. 

Just as I’m taking another sip of my coffee a familiar head of long blonde hair enters the cafe. My head tilts to the side in confusion as he scans the room for someone when he meets eyes with me, he makes his way over and sits in the seat in front of me and doesn’t say anything.

“You’re rarely on this side of town, why are you here?” I ask Hyunjin first.

“I heard something from Ms. Kim in our art class and needed to know if it was true.” He says seriously.

“What…” I feel like I know what he’s going to say, but I ask anyways. “What did you hear?” 

“That you were offered an internship in Itaewon.” 

“Hyunjin I-“

“Is it really true? She said you had two more weeks to decide, how come you haven’t told anybody? Does Minho know? Are you gonna leave? What about-” He begins to spurt out question after question and it’s almost too much for me to handle.

“Hyunjin!” I raise my voice just slightly to get him to stop but I have to turn it down again when the volume of my voice makes a few of the other customers’ heads turn. “Calm down, yes it’s true, yes I have two more weeks to decide if I’m going or not, I didn’t know how I would tell any of you, no, Minho doesn’t know and I don’t plan on telling him.” 

“Are you… Are you gonna take the offer?” He asks slowly.

I prop my elbows onto the table as the cat leaves my lap and my head drops into my hands as I sigh in exasperation. “I don’t know.” Tears are gathering in my eyes as I think about it. 

“Y/n, have you thought about the offer at all?” 

“Yes and no.” I don’t need to lift my head to sense Hyunjin’s confusion. “It’s hard to think about it when you’re watching your crush of 2 years date someone else while you’re also trying to finish up your senior year. But it’s also all I can think about when I’m alone, which I find myself a lot, thinking about having to find a place to live in Itaewon and transfer and mentally prepare to leave you all here, but if I don’t take it then it’ll be even harder to find an offer like this. It’s all I can think about and also something that I can’t bring myself to think about, Hyunjin.” I lift my head and my teary eyes meet his own. 

“Y/n…” His voice breaks saying my name.

“I think I’m going to take it.” I pause. “Once I finish all of my final assignments the only thing I have left to really worry about is graduating and finding a job, and I don’t think I can take watching Minho and Ahra anymore Hyun, I don’t think I can stomach it. I’m happy for them, I truly am, but it’s also affecting me and I don’t think I should ignore that anymore. If I’m in Itaewon I have a job and I won’t have to worry about feelings anymore, two birds with one stone.” 

I see the hesitancy in Hyunjin’s facial expressions before he speaks. “If that’s what you think you should do, then I’ll support you all the way. But shouldn’t you tell Minho about this?” 

“I’m not, because if I do, Minho is gonna find some way to get me to stay and I’ll crumble and stay because he affects me the most.” Hyunjin merely nods in response. “Hyunjin, you are the only one that can know about this, okay? I can’t have everyone else know this, especially Minho, okay?”

Hesitation again, and then, “Okay.” 

Hyunjin keeps his promise, he keeps the secret of me leaving from everyone. Even as graduation inches closer and our group begins to talk more about job searching, what comes next, and similar topics, the two of us keep it a secret. Whenever they asked me what I was thinking of doing next I always just told them “oh probably looking for internships nearby,” and no more questions are asked. 

Minho and Ahra were still very much in love, even more than before, if the growing absence of Minho’s presence was anything to go by. I barely saw Minho anymore, maybe catching him at the end of the hall every once in awhile, but he was always walking with Ahra so all I could say was “hello” and “goodbye.” 

Each goodbye begun to hold more and more weight as the days passed. Even the short ones I would tell Minho after passing him in the halls. I couldn’t even conjure how I would tell everyone, maybe send a letter to each of their places? A text message? Tell them after the graduation ceremony just before I left for the train station? I thought about how I would say goodbye as I begun to pack up my dorm. Graduation was nearing, I had already turned in all of my final assignments, and all there was left was to pack. I would leave after the ceremony ended, sometime in the afternoon. I wouldn’t even get the chance to properly celebrate being graduates with my friends because I was leaving in the afternoon. I’d get situated in my new apartment in Itaewon and get accustomed to new life outside of Gimpo. 

The thought of leaving panged my heart harshly, I had never left Gimpo permanently before. Sure, I had gone on trips to the US and Singapore and Seoul before, but I had never moved from Gimpo. I was born and raised in Gimpo, met Minho and all of our friends here, so the thought of moving for the first time did something to my heart. I attended all of our group hangouts with a nostalgic mindset, remembering the first time we all met, when we all got wasted one time on a Friday night after some big exam week. I look around our table of friends and think about how much I’ll miss all of this when I leave for Itaewon. 

Another thing that panged my heart, Minho and I distancing. I knew it was coming, Minho and I didn’t text or talk about hanging out anymore. He walked Ahra to her classes now, and had dates with her after class instead of meeting me at our cafe. Eventually I stopped getting apology messages, and stopped expecting him at the cafe anymore. I couldn’t blame him, Ahra was his girlfriend and I accepted that long ago. Instead I just played the supportive friend on the sidelines, and I’d continue to play that role for as long as I had to. 

It came to be the night before we graduated, and all of us minus Minho and Ahra were sat around a table in one of the restaurants we frequented, it wasn’t too late in the evening, and we all just sat in silence after finishing our food with bottles and glasses of soju now sitting in front of us. A majority of our meal was full of reminiscing, talking about memories that crack everyone up and left smiles on our faces. 

“So, we really graduate tomorrow, huh?” Changbin says when the table quiets down.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Chan says quietly. 

My eyes tear up and I begin to sniff without control, the weight of my department tomorrow weighing heavily on my shoulders. Hyunjin puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a tissue, whispering “it’s okay, it’s okay” to me while I try to calm down.

Everyone looks at me in confusion before Chan speaks first. “Y/n are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” I trail off, not sure what to say.

“Do you want to tell them?” Hyunjin asks softly.

“Tell us what?” Seungmin says this time.

Hyunjin looks to me first before nodding, and I begin to spill my secret. “I got an internship offer.” 

The table erupts in cheers and I get congratulations thrown back at me before I can even continue.

“But…” Immediately everyone silences and looks to me in expectation. “It’s in Itaewon.” 

There’s a tense air that falls around us. “What?” Felix says in disbelief.

“You’re not leaving us, right Noona?” Jeongin asks from another part of the table. 

I look to Jeongin with sad eyes, smiling sadly. “I leave tomorrow, after our graduation ceremony.” There’s some gasps around the table.

“What?! Y/n, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Changbin blows up and Chan has to place a hand on his shoulder to restrain him.

“I didn’t want every time we met leading up to graduation to feel like a goodbye, Bin, I couldn’t handle that. So I kept it from you all so there wasn’t this tension every time we met.” I explained.

“Does Minho know?” Seungmin asks this time, and I shake my head.

“Y/n…” Han says worriedly.

“Guys, I know I’m not the only one that’s noticed that me and Minho aren’t that close anymore, so I haven’t really gotten the chance to tell him. But I told Hyunjin this a long time ago, that I wouldn’t tell Minho specifically, because there’s some things that I need to figure out and if I told him he’d find some way to keep me from going, or even worse, follow me. At least with Ahra by his side he won’t follow me to Itaewon.” There’s nods all around the table, understanding where I’m coming from.

“We’re gonna miss you a lot.” Felix sniffs and I coo, getting up from my seat to wrap my arms around him from behind. 

“I’m gonna miss you all too.” I sniff with him, a few tears escaping my eyes. 

Chan comes to join our hug, then Han, then Jeongin, and soon enough everyone has joined the group hug with me in the middle. All of us are crying, and I had never felt more loved than that moment. 

Eventually we break away from the hug and return to our seats, everyone dabbing at their eyes with tissues and sniffing. 

“Let’s all stop crying, tonight is a night to celebrate, all of us graduate tomorrow, and our dear Y/n got an internship offer in a big city!” Han holds up a drink and we all do the same, cheering and clinking our glasses together and celebrating the night away. 

The next morning I get ready for graduation early, putting on my makeup and doing my hair, and sending a message. 

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

hey, can you meet me at p&p in thirty?

My heart picks up the pace as I send the message, I didn’t expect him to answer so quickly yet his message pings my phone within 2 minutes. 

from: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sure, i can be there

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sweet, i’ll see you there

I turn my phone off and take a deep breath, we still had a few hours before we had to be at the school for our graduation ceremony, I’d have to leave just a few minutes after the ceremony ended which wouldn’t give me enough time to tell Minho, so, I made the painful decision the night before to tell him in the morning. I’d do it in our favorite spot in the corner of our favorite cat cafe, tell him the news slowly and hope that he takes it well. 

I leave my house and 15 minutes later I’m in our usual booth, my coffee order sitting in front of me and the cats all wandering around as there weren’t too many people since it was relatively early in the morning. I already bought Minho his typical Iced Americano and it sat in front of me, awaiting it’s owner. 

10 minutes later Minho arrives and makes his way to the table, sitting in front of me, smiling, unknowing of what’s about to happen. 

“Hey.” I smile at him.

“Hey you.” He smiles back brightly. “Sorry I couldn’t see you guys last night, I took Ahra out for dinner last night on a date.”

“It’s completely alright, how are you guys?” 

“Pretty good, things are going okay right now.” He answers.

“That’s good.” Nervously I take a sip of my macchiato in front of me, my leg bouncing in anxiety. 

“Y/n? Is everything alright? Your leg’s bouncing pretty fast right now.” Curse Minho and the fact that he knows so much about me, he reaches out for my wrist and checks my pulse, quickly noticing how fast it’s beating as his brows furrow in confusion. 

“Minho, there’s something I need to tell you.” I say, retracting my wrist from his grip. He doesn’t answer me but instead tilts his head like a cat does when it looks at its owner questionably. “I’m leaving.” 

“What?” He asks.

How could one look so endearing, head tilted and eyes full of emotion as I break the news to him? I ask myself. “I got an internship offer for a company in Itaewon, I accepted it and I’m leaving for Itaewon, today.” 

“You’re leaving today?” He says in disbelief, sounding out of breath.

I nod and continue. “After the graduation today I have to catch my bus. I didn’t have any other time to tell you so I had to tell you now.” 

“You’re… You’re just telling me now? Do the others know about this?” 

“I only told them last night.”

“You couldn’t have thought of telling me sooner?” He starts to get angry.

“Minho I-“

“What happened to telling me everything, huh? What happened to when we used to know everything about each other?”

“Minho, those days are long behind us, you have bigger priorities now, like putting your focus on your girlfriend, Minho. I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d do something rash, and I didn’t even tell the others until last night because I knew every time we’d see each other it would be like preparing for the day I leave. You and Ahra have something so great going on for the two of you right now and telling you that I was leaving would take you away from that, and I can’t do that to you or her. Ahra is an amazing girl, and you have her now.”

“Will you at least visit?” His eyes are full of tears, some of the first I’ve seen in years and I hate that I’m the cause of it. 

“I don’t know yet, there’s some things I need to figure out myself first, before I can visit. But at some point maybe I will, when I’ve figured things out I’ll try visiting from time to time.” I offer him a sad smile. 

After a few moments of silence I get up from my seat. 

“We still have a graduation left, Min, I’ll still see you then.” I ruffle his hair and walk out of the cafe, no more secrets but one weighing down on my chest. 

The Graduation ceremony passes by in a blur. One moment we were listening to the speeches of each of the professors and the next we were tossing our caps into the air, cheering as we became alumni of our university. 

Our friend group met up in the front of the school, taking pictures with our parents and congratulating each other. Eventually, the time comes and I have to go. 

Our group stands in a circle, unmoving, as we all look at each other. 

“I’m gonna miss all of you so much.” I say in tears as my voice breaks.

“We’re gonna miss you too, Y/n.” Hyunjin says. At his words everyone gathers into a group hug full of tears and the weight of a goodbye on our shoulders. 

“You better promise to visit us, okay?” Felix holds me by the shoulders and makes a point to look me in the eye. Not trusting my voice, I nod and he brings me into one more hug. 

I hug each of them individually, saying a few words, before I reach the last person. 

I hug Minho and look into his eyes for the last time for a while.

“I’ll miss you.” He whispers.

“Me too.” And that’s all I can say. 

I leave the campus for the last time, hopping in my car to head to the station and start anew.

Second leads always leave in the end, they leave and let the two main leads have a happy ending. That’s what it felt like I was doing, and I couldn’t tell if I was content with my choice or not. 

Two and a half months in Itaewon passes quickly. 

The move into my new apartment was smooth, and it was odd to be in a bigger space than a small dorm room. It felt like I had more space than I knew what to do with. 

My internship was moving along smoothly as well, everyone I had met so far were really kind and taught me a lot. I was worried about feeling out of place but I had met a few other girls not much older than me who helped me feel at home. 

Being alone in a big city was unnerving, but what made it so much more comfortable was the addition of a cat that my parents had bought me as my graduation gift. She was a chartreux cat who I named Luna because I had always dreamed of naming my first cat that. My parents covered most of the costs of basic things like cat toys, a scratch post, her bed, and similar things. I thanked my parents endlessly when they came over to my apartment a week after I had moved in and gave me Luna. I wasn’t gone for too long during the day and always left food for her, she was great company when I came home and worked on projects late into the evening, curling up into my lap like the cats at the old cafe used to. She was my best friend in a city I was still getting accustomed to. 

I hadn’t talked to the guys much, I’d talked with them a few times in the group chat about how their job searches were going and trips they were planning to take soon. It was nice talking with them every so often but all of us were still pretty busy moving onto the next chapter of our lives. 

I hadn’t talked to Minho since I left, I’d assumed that he and Ahra were doing well, but that’s all that was, assumption. None of the boys talked about him and I couldn’t understand why, but I never asked since I was supposed to be moving on from my feelings in the first place. I thought I had been doing pretty well until something would come up that reminded me of him, like his favorite song would play in the cafe I bought my morning coffee in and spent my breaks at, or snapchat would send me “Today, 1 year ago” memories of him and me fooling around at Paws and Pastries. Whenever that would happen I’d be sent back to square one, and it felt like I’d never move on from Minho. 

I was on my way out to grab a coffee and spend my off day walking around, maybe looking into a few shops when I got a call from Hyunjin.

“Y/n! My favorite girl, how are you?”

“Hyunjin? What’s with the call?”

“What? Can I not call my friends from time to time?”

“Not when you’re notorious for calling your ‘friends’ after you’ve done something wrong.” I sigh.

“That was one time! Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

“You dragged Jeongin to a party! And got him wasted!” 

“One. Time. Y/n. It was one time.”

“One time is enough for you to be in trouble for life, Hyun.”

“Okay, whatever, but I was meaning to ask you, what’re your plans for today?” 

“Me? I was just planning to go out, today’s my day off so I was gonna visit this one cafe and see some shops, why?” 

“No reason, what time do you think you’ll be home?” 

“Maybe five?”

“Great, okay, I have to go now, Han’s calling me, bye!” Hyunjin hangs up before I can ask him what’s with the weird questions.

“Hyunjin- Oh great he hung up.” I put my phone in my pocket before looking down at Luna who’s stretching near my legs. “Your uncle Hyunjin is quite the odd one, isn’t he Luna, hm?” I ask her and she meows back in response. “Weird indeed, but that’s just how he is. Mommy’s gonna spend her day out and then she’ll come home and we can watch the TV together, okay? I’ll be home soon.” I pick up Luna and set her on her little bed before ensuring everything is safe and make my way out the door. 

I spend the day eating at a large cat cafe that actually had an assortment of books with little reading areas while the cats roamed around everywhere. It was much bigger than the cafe in Gimpo, but I would always correlate that one with home. 

After I spent a bit of time reading there I went out and explored the shops for a few hours, bought some new jeans and a few blouses plus some makeup things. I got Subway for lunch and explored just a little bit more before heading home. Instead of going straight home, I decided to take the long way, going through the streets not minding the extra weight the few shopping bags I was holding in my hands gave me. The sun was just barely beginning to set as I walked into my apartment complex, getting into the elevator and pressing the button for my floor. 

I walk down the hallway to my door and am surprised when a familiar figure greets me there. 

“Minho?” I say as I walk closer. 

“Y/n!” He says happily, bringing me into a hug. 

“What are you doing here? Actually- Wait- Don’t answer that, do you wanna come inside?” I ask him.

“Sure.” He responds. 

I unlock the door and bring my bags in, setting them by the door. “Luna! Mommy’s home!” I call out automatically.

Luna meows and comes out of the bedroom, walking her way up to me before I pick her up. 

“You got a cat?” Minho asks.

“Yeah, parents brought her to me about a week after I moved in.” I put Luna back down and she moves to sit on the arm of the couch, her favorite spot to sit when the sun goes down.

“And you named her Luna,” He smiles fondly. “You always wanted to name your cat Luna.” 

“I’m surprised you remember that.” I chuckle. “Do you want some coffee?” 

“Sure.” 

“I’ll get that brewing, just give me a few minutes, you can take a seat on the couch and make yourself at home!” I tell him as I quickly retreat to the kitchen.

I have to take a few breaths when I’m far away enough from Minho, my heart beating just as fast as it would when I was around him back then. It was clear I hadn’t moved on at all. 

I brew the coffee as promised and wait next to the coffee machine with two mugs ready. A voice chimes in behind me.

“Your place is much bigger than the dorms.” He chuckles.

“Tell me about it, it was so weird buying more furniture than I was used to.” I laugh with him. 

The machine finishes brewing the coffee and I pour it into the two mugs, putting it on a tray with creamer and sugar before bringing it all to the coffee table in front of the couch. 

Minho and I take seats on the couch, separated by a bit of space between us while we sip on our respective mugs.

“So,” I start the conversation. “How’s home?” 

“Not too bad, same old same old, the guys being annoying as usual, you know?” He says.

“Sounds fun.” I chuckle. “And work, have you found anything yet?” 

“Not yet, I’ve got a few applications out, but I’m still waiting on some answers.”

“I’m sure you’ll get them soon.” I respond. 

An uncomfortable silence sets over the both of us, and I run my free hand through Luna’s fur who’s situated herself in my lap this time. I take a long sip of my coffee before asking another question.

“How’s… How are you and Ahra?” 

“Oh…” He trails off. “We broke up a few weeks ago.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that…” I had no idea that he and Ahra had broken up, in fact that was the completely opposite of what I thought had happened since they seemed to work together so well. 

“Yeah, it was a mutual thing. We didn’t really feel that kind of connection anymore, you know? So we just, broke it off.” 

“Are you okay?” I ask Minho.

“Me? Yeah, I’m actually not as affected as I thought I’d be, I don’t know if that makes me a cruel person or not but I was only sad for the first week or two. Nothing too bad.” 

“I see.” Another silence settles between us. This one is longer, more tense, there was something Minho wanted to ask but he wasn’t sure, and I couldn’t depict what question he was going to ask.

“Actually, I came her for a reason.” He says.

“And what reason is that?” I ask hesitantly.

“For answers.” My brows furrow, answers for what? “There’s something Hyunjin told me recently and it got me thinking, and I wanted to hear it from you if it was true.”  

I finish my coffee and place it down delicately on the coffee table, trying not to show how nervous I was with how badly my hands were shaking. “I’ll see if I have answers for you then.” 

“When you told me you were leaving, you said you had some, things, to figure out on your own. What was it that you had to figure out?” 

I take a moment to decide exactly how I was going to answer his question. Did I want to expose my feelings to him just yet? “Just, feelings.” I say vaguely.

“For?”

“Just feelings for somebody.”

“Is it Hyunjin?”

“No.”

“Chan?”

“Nope.”

“Changbin?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Me?”

I pause for just a half second, and apparently that was all Minho needed. “I guess Hyunjin’s big mouth was right after all.”

“Wait- What? What are you talking about?” 

Minho takes a long sip of his coffee before finishing letting out a sigh after swallowing, he slowly sets the mug on the table before making direct eye contact with me and silently killing me with the suspense. “Minho please just say something you’re killing me here.”

He only chuckles in response. “Hyunjin told me not too long ago that you took up the offer to work here because you were going to sort out your feelings, for me.” He says sweetly as I suck in a breath at his last words. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Minho-“

“Now now, Y/n, we shouldn’t hide things from each other anymore, should we?” His sweet, sultry voice was affecting me greatly as he leaned closer to me on the couch. I gulp and silently curse when Luna, the only thing keeping me sane, leaves the comfort of my lap for her scratch-post. 

“Minho…” I let out quietly.

“Tell me, Kitten, is it true?” He asks once again. 

“I-“ My voice catches in my throat when Minho leans in ever nearer, still making direct eye-contact with me. “Yes, it is.” I sigh out and Minho backs away. 

“He was right.” Minho whispers while my gaze drops to my hands that I fiddle with in my lap at the secret that’s let out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry.” I whisper.

“Why are you sorry darling?” He asks softly and uses his thumb and forefinger to tilt my head up by my chin. 

“I couldn’t tell you because I knew you didn’t feel the same, and then when you got together with Ahra we drifted apart because it hurt me to see you with her. Then I left and told you about me leaving so last minute. I made you cry, Minho, and I hate that I did. But I couldn’t see any other way out of it. I hurt you because I was cowardly and didn’t want to be selfish by telling you and having your attention move off of Ahra, when I was really being selfish by not telling you and hurting you in the end.” More tears escape my eyes as we look at each other.

“Princess, no…” He cups my face with his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. “I’ll admit, it did hurt when you told me that you were leaving the day of, but I understood where you were coming from. Because you were right, I would have done something crazy to keep you by my side. Do you know why?” He asks, and I shake my head, still crying. “Because I need you by my side, kitten, even when I was dating Ahra I felt off but just didn’t pay any mind to it because I had her. But now I know it’s because you and I were drifting apart, I found out when after you left and me and Ahra broke up because I felt empty. I couldn’t text you to just come over anymore because you’re farther away from me now. I lied earlier, I said that I sent out some applications for jobs but didn’t get any answers yet, right?” I nod. “I got offered a job as a software engineer, here, in Itaewon, and I said yes.” 

“Why?” I whisper.

“Because I want to be near you, I need to be by your side Y/n, because I love you.” I let out a sob at his confession and he coos, bringing me to rest my head on his chest and rubbing his hands on my back and running them through my hair. 

“I love you too.” I say after a few minutes. 

Minho brings me out of his hold, and cups my face again. For the first time, he kisses me. His lips brush over mine before deepening the kiss, taking full charge of it yet somehow still being soft with me. His kisses were nothing short of addicting, and I knew I’d be in love with him for a long time. 

In that moment, kissing the man of my dreams, I remember that it may be rare that a second lead gets their own happy ending, but it’s not unheard of. Sometimes the main lead and second lead do end up with their own happily ever after. 

Notes from the author: I have FINALLY posted something y’all 😂 took a few months but she’s here, and she’s dishing out something at least. I don’t know how often I’ll be posting again, esp with school and whatnot, but I do know I need to drain out my drafts because phew, it’s getting a little full in there. 

But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this fic! I’m pretty sure it’s one of the longest I’ve written if not the longest. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad, I’m probably a little rusty but we can fix that (i think)

if you want more I still have my old stuff up on my masterlist on my account! hope to see you around :))

-nyx

[lucy90712]

First ultrasound (pregnancy series)

Series masterlist

George:

This morning is my first ultrasound to confirm my pregnancy and to find out how far along I am. Me and George have been waiting for this for the past few days because we're just so excited to see our baby so that if feels more real because its been hard to take in seeing as all we have to show for it is the test and the fact that I feel kind of rubbish.

George is more excited than I am for this appointment to the point that he actually went to bed at a normal time and got up early this morning which isn't a George thing to do. Our appointment was at 11 so we didn't need to be up too early but he got me up at 8:30 anyway to make a simple breakfast which he also doesn't do often because he's never awake.

When it got to 10:25 and it was time for us to leave George was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement and walking at a million miles an hour to the doctors which I really couldn't keep up with especially with my nausea kicking in off and on. He did slow down eventually when he realised that I was not keeping up and we walked like normal human beings and arrived about 5 minutes before our appointment.

The nurse came to call us into the room for our appointment where I laid down on the bed and she put very cold gel on my stomach before moving it around to get an image of what looks like a tiny little bean which was our baby. It was so small but so amazing to see to the point that a few tears fell down my face as I turned to George he was crying too, we probably looked like idiots but we didn't care. The nurse said that I was about 6 weeks along and would be due in may.

Dream:

Today is my first ultrasound to just make sure everything is going ok and Clay was meant to be busy so I was going to go alone but he cancelled his video recording making up some random excuse because we haven't told a single person about the pregnancy yet and we want to be sure before we do.

He drove to the hospital for our appointment which was pretty early this morning but that was probably a good thing because I was super nervous. Clay seemed less nervous and more just excited to see our little baby even though we knew they would be small.

The nurse called us into the room and started the ultrasound showing us an image of our tiny baby in my stomach, the small thing on screen was our made from our dna that we would get to hold and love in a few short months time.

Clay held my hand the entire time squeezing it when things got exciting and when the nurse told us that our baby would be due in august probably not far from his birthday. August seems like so far away and so long to wait but I can tell that it will go much quicker than we think so we need to savour every moment including the little ones like this one. We were given pictures from the ultrasound which Clay is treasuring as if it was worth millions of dollars which is just the sweetest thing ever.

Sapnap:

This afternoon me and Sapnap are going to my first ultrasound which we are both excited about and scared about. The main thing we are worried about is being judged my the people at the hospital because we know that people have horror stories of their experiences but we are hoping ours will be different.

We have had to lie to our families as to what we are doing because they don't know yet and I'm not willing to face that yet so Sapnap is going to drive the both of us and then we are going to go out to make it seem like thats what we were doing all along.

At the hospital we checked in and soon got called to our appointment where I was asked a few questions but the nurse didn't seem to care about our age at all which made me feel so much better about myself. It was so cool seeing our little baby on the screen which was a bit bigger than we both expected because I was about 10 weeks along meaning that our baby was due in November.

Leaving the hospital I felt a weight lifted off my shoulder which I could tell Nick was feeling too it was relief that maybe people aren't going to be as judgemental as we thought they would be.

Quackity:

This afternoon and and Alex get to go to my first ultrasound which we have been waiting for for a few weeks but just haven't had a good time where both of us are free but this afternoon it's finally happening.

At the hospital the nurse used the really cold gel on my stomach to try and get a good image of the baby, I have no idea why this gel had to be so cold it was like they had it in a fridge all day. She moved the wand around for a minute before we could see a clear picture of our little baby on the screen. This tiny little thing on the screen was ours that we get to watch grow into a baby and then eventually an adult. We left the hospital with some pictures of our little one and a due date of somewhen in march.

"It feels so much more real now that we have these pictures" Alex said

"I know I'm so excited to watch them grow" I replied

We both stared at the pictures in my hands for a good while before heading home to put them up somewhere so we can look at them everyday.

Karl:

Karl made an appointment for my first ultrasound without telling me to start with because he was just so excited but he made sure to do it when we were both free so that took some stress out of the conversation where he told me I had an ultrasound out of nowhere.

Now we are waiting for the nurse to be ready to start said ultrasound, when she was ready she started and we could see the black and white image of our little baby who was indeed very little up on the small screen. I was completely in awe over the image and in my own little world until I heard sniffling coming from Karl so I looked at him to see that he was crying which made me cry too.

At the appointment we learnt that I was around 7 weeks along and due in January which is very exciting but it feels so far away right now.

Wilbur:

I made an appointment for my first ultrasound and it happens to be today, I'm very nervous too I just know that seeing our baby on the screen will really make it feel real and I just don't want Wilbur to get over the excitement when reality hits him. I also do want to see the baby because I've dreamed about having a kid since I was a teenager and getting to experience that makes me excited.

We went in for our appointment and the nurse moved around the wand on my stomach until you could see our tiny little baby on the screen, it looked like a bean and I said this to Wilbur so now the baby is going to be nicknamed bean until we actually name them.

The nurse told us that I was about 5 weeks along and our little bean would be due in July which means being heavily pregnant in the summer wonderful.