#i was busy the last two days because when I have guests over for new years eve it always kinda becomes a two day event and I only now got

[miodiodavinci]

good news: we have water again ! ! ! a pipe had burst somewhere up the street so the city came out and fixed it today (we still need to run the tap to get rid of the air and muddy water but. it's something.)

bad news: i had to go to my partner's to do laundry and shower so i missed out on work time today (bad) (anxiety inducing) (i don't need this right now)

worst news: i have a killer headache and my throat is suspiciously stiff 👁 👁

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Gojo feeling sick to his stomach when he hears that you've been browsing engagement rings.

Imagine how beside himself he is when he looks over Nanami's shoulder and sees an email confirming a custom ring.

He reluctantly accepts the invite to a small birthday gathering at Nanami's apartment. The promise of "big news" is enough to ruin his day entirely.

"Hey, stranger," you say when you and Satoru reach the door at the same time.

Satoru can hardly think of words to say, much less coherently string them together.

"So, uh," he starts off.

You pause with your hand raised to knock. "Yeah?"

"Um." He wishes the ground would swallow him up. "I didn't know you guys were seeing each other that seriously."

You tilt your head in confusion. "We're not. We're not even official yet. Taking it slow and all that."

"Really? But." Satoru cants his head towards the door. "The news. The ring."

"What are you talking about?" you ask, bewildered. Then it clicks. "Satoru, you think I'm seeing Nanami? You really think he'd break the news to you this way?"

"Oh. I guess not."

"Are you stupid? Genuine question."

"Look, I just saw two people looking for rings at the same time and I panicked okay?"

You reach forward and flick his nipple.

"Oww?!?"

You touch a hand to your aching temple. "I've been helping him look for a ring for someone else, dummy!"

"Who?"

You give him a dry look and knock on the door. It swings open and behind it, in all his glory, is Yu Haibara.

~

Imagine ex-husband Gojo being caught completely off-guard by this development.

"Holy shit," he whispers once you've greeted the hosts and have gone off to the side with your respective drinks. "I didn't even know Haibara was back in Japan."

"He hasn't been for long," you whisper back. "Nanami met him in the U.S. last year while on business. They've been long distance ever since."

"And Nanami never told anyone?"

"He didn't want to tell anyone until he was sure he wasn't going to mess things up again. A decade is a long time to not see someone."

Never mind that you and Satoru have been divorced longer than that.

~

Imagine clapping along with ex-husband Gojo when, of course, Haibara says "yes."

The happy couple comes to give you two a big hug and to thank you for coming. They don't get much time with you, though, because as soon as thanks are exchanged, you're demanding that they relax and mingle with their guests while you tidy up the mess in the kitchen.

You and Suguru make your own fun washing dishes and throwing soap suds at each other. The two of you opt to leave Satoru out of this particular chore, lest Nanami end the night down several plates.

In the living room, Satoru jokes, "Been a long time coming, huh?"

Haibara sighs playfully, patting his fiancé on the thigh. "I'll say."

"So, Nanami! What got you to finally make a move after all these years?" Satoru asks.

Nanami actually blushes. He places a hand over Haibara's newly-adorned one.

"We met in the States again and it felt like fate. I just couldn't bring myself to let him walk away again. If that makes sense," he says.

Satoru's gaze softens behind his blindfold and he glances through the kitchen walkway just in time to see you smack Suguru with a wet dish towel.

"Yeah. Makes total sense."

~

Gojo and Geto, Itadori and Fushiguro, the other duos get sympathy for their tragedy. Nanami and Haibara were doomed in canon, but I refuse to deprive them of each other in my universe.

Thanks for reading!

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[authorhjk1]

is it possible you make a smut about karina? where you fuck her infront of a mirror as you watch her body bounce as you rail her hard and groping every inch of her body.

P.S i really like your works and your writing is supurb, i hope you continue writing more stories.

I apologize for the long wait. I had to put these two requests together, because I can't keep up with ones I already got and the new ones that are coming in. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall...

(Karina X Hwang Yeji X Male Reader)

You look across the table. Dinner tasted delicious and you also prepared cake for the birthday girl. The older one of the two sisters stares down at the chocolate cake, carefully taking a bite.

It's hard to say you hate her. She is your friend's daughter after all. But you can't help it. You've watched her grow up for more than just a couple of years. You treat both sisters almost the same, but Karina started to become something that you were afraid of. A stuck up, self-centered bitch.

It's a shame actually. But by the way her mother behaves, it's not that big of a surprise. She and your friend are sitting at your table as well. You invited the family of four, because of Karina's birthday. Because you wanted to be polite. Not because you wanted Karina to be around you.

The complete opposite applies to Yeji. The younger one of the two sisters. She has her rebellious side, for sure, but she has always been a sweet sunshine. Even now, her smile lights up your dining room as she takes her first bite of the cake.

"Mmmh. It's so delicious. You are a really great cook."

You crack a smile at Yeji's compliment.

Unable to not compare the two sisters, you notice that Karina hasn't said a word. Not even a thank you. She does eat the cake, which already is something, but she is just as rude as her mother is.

You sigh in disappointment. Your friend should've done better. Of course every parent makes mistakes, but Karina's mother is just on another level. But Yeji still turned out well. You can't get behind it. What exactly went wrong?

"Please let me help."

Yeji smiles at you as she stands up to collect the rest of the plates. She is the only one of your three guests who offered her help. To be fair, her father is currently on a call with his client. Mother and daughter are both busy with their phones it seems.

"Thank you, Yeji."

"I should really come over more often."

Turning around, you see Yeji, who is walking after you into the kitchen.

"Please don't. You are a lot of work."

"Very funny."

She puts down the plates, looks outside the kitchen and looks back at you.

"Who is your favorite? Me or Karina?"

You roll your eyes at her question. A question you've heard more than a thousand times over the last years. From both of them.

"I don't have favourites."

"Oh come on. I know you like me more."

"What would make you think that?"

"You invite me more often than her."

Holding the towel for the dishes in your hand, you throw it at her. The white cloth covers Yeji's face.

"You always come here uninvited. When was the last time I asked you to come?"

Yeji pulls the towel off of her head, pouting at you.

"You invited me for today. Didn't you?"

You turn towards your sink, getting ready to wash the dishes. Your stupid dishwasher broke two days ago.

"I invited all of you. That doesn't count."

Yeji steps next to you.

"You can be really mean sometimes."

"Just honest."

Yeji takes the cleaned plate out of your hand.

The two of you finish washing the dishes in silence. Once you are done, you motion Yeji to sit at the kitchen table.

"Got something as a reward for helping me."

"Really?"

Yeji looks at you with excitement in her eyes.

You open the door of the fridge. The young woman tries to look around you, wanting to know what you are going to give her.

"More cake?"

She smiles brightly as you turn back around.

"Not just any cake."

Grabbing two forks on your way, you sit down in front of Yeji. The cake in the middle.

"It's the cake I got from the publisher for finishing the last book."

"Wow. So that really is the last book of your series?"

You nod.

"I will write more. But I think there is not much more to tell about this one."

Yeji nods in response as well. She puts a piece of cake into her mouth.

"That's delicious."

You shush her.

"Be quiet, or we have to share"

Yeji giggles, before eating some more.

"If it was you last book though, you must've gotten a lot of fan letters and stuff."

"I did."

"Can I check them out?"

"That's kinda private, Yeji. Those people send their letters to me not you."

The young woman pouts.

"Hey, man."

Your friend walks in.

"I have to meet a client. I'm sorry about this, but I have to leave now."

"No problem, mate. I will makes sure the girls get home safely."

"Thank you."

"By dad!"

"Bye sweetie."

He kisses Yeji on the head, before he walks out.

"Well, this makes my original plan way easier."

You raise an eyebrow.

"What plan?"

"Having some alone time with you."

The tone of her voice starts changing. The sweet, innocent girl starts to fade into the background.

"Your sister and your mom are still here."

"Oh please. As if they are going to check on us."

Yeji takes another bite. More slowly this time. And with way more eye contact.

"We shouldn't be doing this with anyone around."

She gets up, walking around the table.

"No one will go into your study without permission."

"But-"

Yeji gracefully takes her seat on your lap.

"Am I right? Daddy?"

The 24 year old kinky college girl has finally found its way to the surface.

Fuck. You just can't resist her.

It happened around three or four years ago, if you remember correctly. Spending a lot of time with you growing up, Yeji naturally started to enjoy the things you enjoy too. One of them being writing. She didn't just enjoy it, she loved it. You helped her improve and let her beta read all your new stuff, before publishing it. You went with her to small classes and even competitions for young writers. It was nice to share something like this with her.

And before you could even realize what was happening, Yeji already graduated. You felt like time flew past way too quickly. But on that day, you found yourself sitting in the school's gym, applauding as she got up to receive her diploma. An honorary mention for being the founder of the school's writing club and being part of a nation wide competition was of course a given.

After only a couple of hours on the day, which should've been one of the best of her life, she stood at your doorstep, looking up at you. Her black hair a mess, puffy red eyes and tears running down her cheeks. Her father always planned for her to work at his company and eventually take over. But she decided to take a different path. The path you took. Or at least a very similar one. After she told him, she already got a scholarship at a local college, her dad wasn't fond of the idea at all. The two of them fought hard that day. The only person Yeji wanted to get comforted by that day was you.

Only a couple of minutes after she arrived and dumped all of this on you, her father called. Your friend was worried about her, since she just ran off and he didn't know where she was. You told him that she was with you and would stay the night. The two of them should have a calm discussion the next day.

Yeji was incredibly thankful and eventually went to the room she always stays in when she sleeps over. After having talked to her for several hours, you wanted to make sure that she was alright one last time, before going to bed yourself. You walked in on her lying on the big bed, her skirt on the floor, her fingers knuckle deep inside of her. The way she moaned your name is the reason why you are here now.

"Fine."

You sigh in defeat, feeling Yeji slightly grind against you.

"Go upstairs. I will tell your mom we are going to write on your project for college."

Yeji suddenly attacks you, pressing her lips against yours. Her tongue aggressively demands entrance into your mouth. The two of you engage into a hot but quick kiss.

"I'll be waiting."

With one last wink and sway of her hips, Yeji is gone.

You clear your throat, before standing up. Everytime you do this, you feel like the greatest sinner on earth. She is your friend's daughter. She is half your age. You were there on her first day of school. It always feels wrong when you think about it. And it always feels wrong afterwards. But if you only glance at Yeji, all that doubt goes out the window.

"Yeji and I are in my study in case you are looking for us. She needs help on her project."

Your friend's wife just nods, while you can see Karina rolling her eyes. You know what she thinks of her younger sister. You wish she could be only half as good as her. From what you've heard from Yeji, Karina likes her own college life. Or rather the boys in it. The stories her younger sister told you makes you think that your friend and his wife raised a self entitled slut.

Opening the big oak doors to your study and library, you see Yeji sitting at your desk.

Her warm smile makes you walk a little faster.

"Come here."

Once you reach her, you grab Yeji's chin, tilting her head upwards to meet yours. The two of you engage in another passionate kiss. While keeping your lips locked, you start to peel Yeji off your chair. You guide her towards the edge of your desk. Yeji hops onto the wooden surface, disconnecting from your lips for only a second.

Her new position enables you to properly run your hands all over her body. She moans into your mouth as she feels you exploring every inch of her.

"(Y/n)."

Yeji sighs your name, feeling one of your hands on her ass, while the other dips underneath her top. Your reach upwards, until you find her chest. Squeezing her tits over her bra makes Yeji moan again.

She eventually brakes away due to the lack of air. She smiles back up at you, excitement sparkling in her eyes.

"Let me give you head."

Yeji slides off the edge of the desk, landing between your legs on her knees. You have to bite your lip as you watch Yeji unbuckle your belt.

"It has been so long since last time."

You chuckle at her eagerness as she pulls down your pants. Your cock springs free, landing on her beautiful face.

"Wow."

She gasps, like she does everytime.

You rub your cock all over her face. Yeji closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of your cock.

You never met someone who was this passionate about worshipping your cock. But Yeji is one of a kind. She was more eager than skilled at first. But you've trained your friend's daughter to be your personal slut. One would never see Yeji as that, when they would meet her on the street. But she can be a naughty little devil in your ear. Especially when her family comes over, or you visit them. She always tries to sneak off with you. Just like right now.

Yeji starts to suck you off in your study. Her eyes are still closed in bliss as she savors the taste of your cock. Her blowjob becomes more messy by the second. Soon, she is almost drooling on your cock. You take a fistful of her gorgeous orange hair and you start to thrust into her mouth. Yeji moans, opening her mouth as wide as possible, relaxing her throat.

"Damn, princess."

You've always called her and her sister that. But since the two of you started having sex, this nickname has a another layer to it. A dirty one at that. Because right now, Yeji doesn't look like a princess at all. She is on her knees, drooling spit onto your cock, her thighs and the floor. Your dick starts to hit the back of her throat as you begin to thrust into her harder. Soon, only the sounds of her gags fill your study. It's a beautiful melody. One that you would love to hear every day.

Yeji takes your mouth fucking like the good girl she has been raised to be. No complaining, no dirty look, not even the hint of a struggle. She seems to be in her element.

You unfortunately don't have the stamina to keep up the pace for too long. Eventually, you have to slow down, enabling Yeji to take a proper breath through her nose. Spit is covering her chin by now. You keep thrusting into her mouth. Slow, but still with purpose. But Yeji's eyes slowly start to turn dark with lust. Signaling you that she can only hold out this long without getting touched.

After a while, you finally pull out of her completely. A tear is rolling down her cheek, which she scoops up with the back of one of her fingers. Yeji takes a moment to catch her breath properly.

"B-Bend me over."

Her voice sounds raspy and dry. Which is odd, because there is spit covering everything. Her chin, lips, shirt, thighs and the floor too.

"Your manners, Yeji."

You're reminded how often you said that years ago. When you had important visitors and the two sisters stayed at yours over the weekend.

"Sorry. Please, daddy?"

She pouts cutely. Like she always does, when she wants something.

"We still have to be quick though."

Luckily, you always keep your desk clean. Quickly putting your laptop to the side, you turn Yeji around afterwards.

"Daddy..."

She moans as she feels your hand pressing against her back, making her bend over the wooden surface. Since your desk is quite high and quite big, Yeji can barely hold onto the edge on the other side. And she has to lift her feet off the ground, if she wants to do so. Only her tiptoes stay in contact with your wooden floor.

You reach around her, quickly unbuttoning her white pants, pulling them off of her.

"You came prepared, I see."

The lack of underwear has an obvious meaning. Yeji wiggles her butt at you, tempting you to just enter her immediately.

"Just for you, daddy."

Everytime she calls you that, you can't help but think about how wrong this all is. She could be your own daughter. Buth there she is, bend over your desk, telling you what she wants you to do to her.

"Can you please fuck me now? I've waited the whole day for this. I need it..."

Yeji sighs in desperation, her cheek resting on the dark wood.

You stand behind her, aligning your cock with her wet folds. You can see them glistening, when you pull her cheeks apart a little.

"Fuck, Yeji."

You can't believe how beautiful she is. How good her body looks. You wait for just a little longer, making Yeji squirm in anticipation, before you finally push inside of her.

"Oh god!"

A deep moan echoes through your study as you part Yeji's walls. Her tight pussy is dripping wet, making it easy for you to slide into her completely. You wonder, how she is so turned on. Because of you? Because you're her dad's friend? Because she has been waiting for this all day?

You are not sure. But you can say that this makes up for all the bad attitude her sister threw in your direction today.

Soon, you find yourself indulging in the pleasure that you take from Yeji's young and tight body. Every part of her seems to be made with perfection. You can't help but let your free hand roam her body. The other one is holding her waist as you keep thrusting into her.

Reaching under her shirt, you grope her breasts. A string of moans escapes her mouth. One louder and dirtier than the previous one.

"Harder, daddy! Please!"

You finally give into her begging. You know, if you fuck her harder, you won't be able to keep your orgasm off for much longer. And you still want to enjoy more of her body.

"Get on the desk."

Yeji takes a moment to comprehend what you just said. But she eventually manages to peel herself off your desk. You turn her around and push her back on it. Now on her back, Yeji looks up at you as you start thrusting into her again.

"Yes, daddy!"

You reach forward, bunching her shirt up over her tits. You push the bra up as well, finally revealing her small perky tits. Your other hand is holding onto one of her luscious thighs. Fingers digging into her soft skin.

"Keep going..."

Yeji slowly starts to lose the ability to speak. Her words start to turn into letters loosely strung together. It tells you that she isn't far away from her own climax.

You play with her tits, kneading them and pinching a nipple occasionally.

"Oh..."

She tries to say something again, but your strong thrusts make her eyes roll back. Her head, just like her back, is rubbing against the wooden surface of the desk in the rhythm of your pounding.

Your own desire for release starts to overwhelm you. The sight of Yeji, squirming and moaning on the desk she used to sit on and watch you write a cute story for her, makes you want to ruin her completely. Both of your hands are now holding onto her full thighs, enabling you to pull her back into you way harder than before.

The sound of your skin hitting hers echo through your study, accompanied by the young girl's moans.

"Daddy! Cuming!"

Yeji cries out as the pleasure finally proves too much for her. Her body shakes atop your desk as her orgasm overwhelms her. You don't slow down, pounding her through her high as you chase your own. Yeji's body often has that affect on you. That desire to completely wreck her, leaving her a whining, dirty mess.

"Ohhh..."

Yeji's drawn out mix of moan and cry sounds like music to your ears. Her pussy contracts around you at the same time, demanding that you cum inside.

"Princess..."

You groan, realizing that you don't know if this is a safe day for her or not. You want to fill Yeji with your cum, but you don't want to knock up your friend's daughter. Yeji is too far gone to care at the moment. Her body keeps squirming on the wooden surface, moans leaving her body in irregular intervals. You try to hold on for longer, but you eventually can't stop yourself.

With the last ounce of strength you have left, you regretfully leave Yeji's snug hole. As you pull out, that last squeeze of Yeji's inner walls makes you explode. You shoot your load all over her body. Her midriff is the first thing that's covered in your cum. Her chest quickly follows as strings of your semen hit her tits.

You feel your legs weaken as you calm down yourself, taking in the view in front of you. Yeji lies on the desk, her eyes still partially closed. A light smile plays around her lips as her heavy breath makes her chest heave. Her upper body is painted with your cum as she just lies there. Like a beautiful painting. A piece of art.

You walk down the hallway, heading for the bathroom. Yeji kept you busy with her project after the two of you had some fun. She does need to finish it soon, which means you didn't lie earlier. You are really helping her.

Opening the door to the bathroom, you suddenly stop moving. You look at Karina, who is standing in the middle of the room.

You notice her phone, which is standing on the sink, leaning against the lower part of your mirror. Karina isn't just taking a normal picture. She has hooked a finger inside her cleavage and is pulling the hem of her dress down. Despite looking at her from the side, you can see her breasts, almost completely exposed, through the mirror.

"Karina. What the hell are you doing?"

You see the young girl jumping, when she hears your voice. She looks at you as she takes her hand off her dress, letting it fall back into place. You see her roll her eyes before answering.

"Nothing."

"This doesn't look like nothing to me."

"Whatever."

Despite her disgusting attitude, Karina is still your friend's daughter and Yeji's sister. You still care for her. You glance at her phone, before looking back at her.

"Were you taking pictures of yourself?"

"So what?"

She reaches for the phone.

"Are you sending them to someone?"

"Not your business."

You hold back the desire to just give her a small clap on the head. Just a really small one.

"Karina, you shouldn't send this to anyone, whom you don't trust."

"I can do what I want."

You nod.

"That's true. I'm just saying, please be aware of the consequences."

"Stop annoying me already."

Karina is obviously checking the photos she took, while you are still trying to talk to her.

"I wouldn't need to annoy you, if you wouldn't act like this."

She raises an eye brow, but keeps looking at her phone.

"You can't tell me what to do."

Karina places the phone back on the sink. She goes through her hair, looking at the mirror. She hasn't even looked at you properly yet since you came in. It makes your blood boil even more.

"Actually, I can. This is my house. Plus, I'm your godfather."

"Oh no, I'm scared."

You watch as she bites on her nail and winks at the phone. You hear it taking a picture. She probably used a timer or something.

You take a deep breath.

"Get out."

She keeps going as if she didn't hear you. When she is about to pull the top of her dress down again, you stop her by grabbing her arm.

"I. Said. Get out."

You speak through your teeth, trying to stay calm. You pull her towards the door.

"Ouch. Stop it!"

Karina uses both hands to push you away. You let go, expecting her to get her phone and walk out on her own. Your eyes widen when you see her standing in front of the mirror again, hooking a thumb underneath one of the straps on her shoulders, smiling at the phone.

"You can wait outside, you know."

You were already annoyed by her attitude during the meal earlier. Her manners are pretty much non existent. You managed to hold yourself back. And Yeji did an incredible job to make up for her older sister's behavior. But there is only so much you can take. If Karina was a couple of years younger, you would've just picked her up and carried her out. You used to do that, when she was being a brat at an younger age.

"Karina."

You realize your tone has become threatening. You reach out for her shoulder, wanting to stop her from letting the strap fall off of it. She swats your hand away. It lands in her hair. And before you can even think about it. You've already taken a fistful.

"One last time. Get. Out."

You growl into her ear.

"Let me go!"

She tries to push you away again, but this time you stay steady.

"Stop it. You know I'm stronger than you."

"I'm gonna tell dad!"

"So what? You think he is gonna like the fact you take this kind of pictures of yourself?

Karina winces as you tug at her hair a little too hard.

"Leave me alone you ass!"

She finally reached the limit. She broke the last wall of self restraint you had left.

You push her against the sink, slightly bending her over it. The both of you stare at each other in the mirror. She finally looks at you properly.

"Stop being a rude bitch first."

The words left your mouth before you could think about them. You planned on saying something different. They just came out. You almost expect Karina to cry, when you see her eyes grow wide.

"Fuck you!"

You were wrong.

Karina reaches behind her with one hand to push you away. The other holds onto the sink.

"No. Fuck you. You have no manners at all."

"So what, huh!?"

She glares at you through the mirror, slightly raising her chin.

"Apologize and behave properly. Or this will have consequences."

You used to say that line when the two sisters were younger. It always worked. You were like a fun uncle for them. Whenever you became this serious, they knew they did something wrong.

But now, Karina just scoffs.

"I'm not ten anymore. What are you gonna do? Punish me?"

"I will."

"Oh, please. I'm a grown woman. I can do what I want."

"Not under my roof."

You point at her phone.

"Delete the pictures you took and go downstairs."

"No."

"Karina..."

You growl, pushing her forward with your hand on the back of her head. She stumbles against the sink.

"Delete them."

"No."

Karina crosses her arms and glares at you, once she has regained her composure. You reach for it yourself. She tries to stop you, but you are too strong for her.

"Give it back!"

You take a step back and hold her in place. Since your arms are longer than hers, Karina can't reach for her phone.

You delete the first to pictures without even looking at them. But when you see more and more of them, you start to realize how sexy she looks in them.

What she lacks in manners and attitude, she seems to make up for with her body. You can't deny the fact that Karina's beauty rivals her sister's.

Once you are done, you look at her again.

"Did you seriously just delete all of them?"

Karina asks with disbelief in her voice.

"Yes. Now, get out."

"No. I need some content for this weekend. You just deleted like twenty pictures or something."

"What content?"

You furrow your eye brows.

"None of your business. Give me my phone back."

You ignore her outstretched hand, quickly scanning through the apps on her phone. You see a white icon with a blue O on it. You realize what she is doing.

"Are you serious?"

"What?"

You show her what you found.

"So? I need to pay my bills somehow."

"Does your father know about this?"

"Don't you dare."

Karina glares at you.

"Oh trust me. I will tell him."

"No way."

Now she finally looks a little concerned.

"Karina, you shouldn't be doing this. Just because you look nice, doesn't mean you have to sell your body for some money."

"You think I look nice?"

She mockingly raises and eyebrow.

"That's wasn't my point Karina."

"Come on, you can be honest. Do you know how much guys pay me for these pictures?"

"I don't give a fuck."

"But I do. If you are gonna tell on me, I'm gonna tell on you too."

"I'm a grown man and your dad's friend. What could you possible know about me that would be worth his time?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe the fact his best friend rails his daughter on a regular basis?"

"What?"

You are too surprised to hide it. You and Yeji made sure that no one would find out. You were always careful. How...?

"See? Seems like I do have something of value."

"How do you know?"

"Me and Yeji share a dorm at college. Whenever she doesn't see you for longer than a week, she plays with herself, when she thinks I'm asleep. I can't believe she calls you daddy."

You close your eyes in disbelief. Yeji... Why does she have to be so fucking horny all the time?

"Fine. Alright. I won't tell on you. You won't tell on me."

A sly, victorious smile plays around Karina's lips.

"Deal."

"That doesn't change the fact that you are rude all the time."

"I'm not rude."

It's your turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I have my reasons."

You let go of her hair earlier. She crosses her arms in front of her, looking away.

"I don't care what your reasons are. So leave."

You gesture towards the door.

Karina doesn't move.

"You deleted all the pictures. I need new ones."

"I still don't like what you are doing. Leave."

She shakes her head.

"Help me with this."

You realize that your argument isn't flawless.

"You're my friend's daughter. No way."

"Seriously? You creampie my sister, but you don't want to fuck me?"

How are you going to get out of this?

"I'm not shooting a movie here or something. If you want someone to fuck you on camera, find a pornstar or something."

Karina rolls her eyes.

"That's where you draw the line?"

"Karina..."

She ignores you, taking the phone out of your hand.

"You don't need to do anything but fuck me. Shouldn't be that hard."

She sets the camera to record, before placing it back on the sink.

You think about it for a moment. It really isn't that hard. You are fucking Yeji already. So why not go all the way? It's not like she is gonna tell her dad.

Karina leans over the sink, looking back at you over her shoulder.

"Give it to me. Daddy."

That last word makes you jump into action.

It sounds so much different to when Yeji says it. The younger one uses more affection. Whenever she says it, you feel like she would do anything for you. Or rather your cock.

When Karina says it, it's sounds more lustful. Maybe even slightly condescending.

Yeji is the good girl, while Karina is the bad one.

You quickly unbuckle your belt and let your pants drop to the floor. Karina watches you through the mirror as you reach for the hem of her dress.

She glances at the phone, when she feels you pushing her dress up. You reveal her ass. Slightly bigger than Yeji's. You can't help but compare. Your hands wander over her skin. The same thrill you feel whenever you have sex with Yeji enters your body. The thrill of doing something forbidden. The fact that she is filming this makes it even hotter, now that you think about it.

"Don't tease me, daddy."

A knowing smile plays on Karina's lips.

You align your cock with her entrance. Her wet folds make it easy to slip inside. It seems like taking the pictures earlier turned her on.

"Damn, daddy."

Karina breaths heavily as you push inside. For some illogic reason you expected her to be not as tight as Yeji. You are proven wrong.

"Fuck you are tight."

You can't help but give her ass a rewarding spank.

"That's right daddy. Punish me for being such a slut."

You slap her again and again with every inch you push further into her. Karina moans whenever you do so. Her body is being pushed forward with every slap. Her ass cheeks jiggle deliciously.

Once you bottom out inside of her, you look at Karina in the mirror. Her half lid eyes stare back at you. She is biting her lip, trying to contain a loud moan.

You place both your hands on her waist, pushing down a little. Karina's back arches as a result, enabling you to push just a little bit further.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."

It seems like you've reached her limit. Karina hisses as she tries to get accustomed to your cock.

"If I had known you are this big..."

She isn't able to finish her sentence, when you pull out of her.

You watch Karina's eyes roll back as your cock rubs against the length of her inner walls.

"Don't give me all the credit."

You chuckle as you push back inside.

"Fuck."

Another moan escapes Karina's lips.

"Am I tighter than my sister?"

A question you've never even dreamed of hearing. One so dirty, you never thought one of them would be able to say it.

"You are."

Your honest answer makes her smirk. You wipe it off her face a moment later. Because you start fucking her properly now.

"Holy shit."

Karina watches as you thrust into her again and again. Your hips snap against hers, making the sounds echo through the bathroom. She tries to silence herself once again by biting her lip, but your thrusts prove to be too much for her. Eventually, her mouth hangs open, lewd sounds coming from the deepest parts of her throat.

Your eyes, which were focused on her face, are now slowly wandering downwards. You get captivated by the way her tits move, while you fuck her. Reaching forward with one hand, you grope Karina's boobs over her dress.

They are bigger than Yeji's. You don't have to touch her to know it. It's obvious.

"You like mine more than my sister's. Right?"

Karina manages to ask another question like this.

"I would like you more if you would just shut up."

Another grin flashes across her face.

"If I'm still talking, you are just not fucking me hard enough."

You take it as a challenge. With one hand now in her hair and the other on her waist, you start to fuck Karina harder and faster. You push her against the sink with every thrust into her. A red line where she hits the sink appears on her skin.

"Look at yourself. Getting fucked in someone else's bathroom like a whore."

You don't know where these words came from. This situation, Karina herself, makes you do things you never thought of doing. You pull at her hair, forcing her to lift her head, which dropped between her shoulders earlier.

Karina's wide eyes stare at you as you take her from behind. Her tight walls squeeze you and try to stop you from leaving, whenever you pull back.

"Mmh, yes."

Karina moans, some spit falling out of her mouth in the process. She starts to lose her composure as you hit just the right spot with every single thrust. Her and Yeji's body feel similar to you. You can tell where her sensitive spots might be and you stimulate them properly, making a squirming mess out of the young woman.

You move your hand from her waist to her shoulders, quickly pulling the straps of her dress off. The upper half slips down her body, until the whole dress is bunched up right above her waist.

Karina's tits sway from side to side as you pound her from behind. You take one of them into your hand, squeezing it and earning another deep moan.

By now, you think Karina has forgotten about her phone. She seems to let herself go, submitting to your thrusts. Your hand keeps exploring her voluptuous chest, squeezing her tits and tugging at her nipples randomly.

Your cock in her pussy keeps hitting just the right spots. The combination of your pounding and your groping has Karina moaning and shivering. She watches herself getting fucked. It's something she starts to enjoy very much. Her pussy tightens even more around you in response.

You let your hand explore more of her body, while the other one keeps her head in place by holding her hair. You admire her collarbone and shoulders for a moment, before quickly moving past her chest. You feel the toned muscles of her stomach underneath your palm. As you keep fucking her and your hand moves further down, you could swear you can feel your cock through her belly.

You press against the spot and suddenly, Karina starts to shake more, her pussy squeezing you tighter.

"Daddy, fuck!"

It's the last words she manages to force out. From that moment onwards, Karina is a mumbling mess. You can't tell what she is trying to say. Her lips quiver uncontrollably. Her pussy is almost painfully tight as you feel more and more of her fluids leaking out of her.

Eventually, your hand reaches her clit. You start rubbing it, encouraging her with your fingers to cum on your cock. Karina's closed eyes shoot open. Saliva still drips from her parted lips.

"Ohhhh!"

A loud cry is the only thing she can do to announce her orgasm. Karina watches herself climaxing. She sees how her body twitches and squirms. How her muscles on her midriff seem to flex. She feels her own pussy tightening around your cock, contracting uncontrollably. Her arms and legs grow weak.

You keep fucking Karina through her orgasm. She can't do anything but take it. She can't tell you to stop. She tries to watch herself as long as possible. But when you somehow drive yourself into the deepest depths of her vagina, Karina's eyes roll to the back of her head. She sees stars, her mind eventually breaking from the pleasure.

You feel yourself chasing your own orgasm as you watch your friend's daughter through the mirror. Her breath has left fog on the glass. Only now do you realize her hands don't rest on the sink anymore. They are pressed against the surface of the mirror.

The sight of Karina like this slowly makes you reach your high.

"Fuck, Karina. Your pussy is gonna milk me dry."

You manage to push out the words as you try to hang on as long as possible. Her tight snatch keeps squeezing your cock, making it harder for you to properly fuck her like before.

"Let me taste your cum, daddy. I need it."

Karina's eyes reflect her desire and need for your cum. She almost unconsciously licks her lips.

You count to ten, trying to stay as long as possible inside of her. You want to savor every last second of her tight pussy wrapped around your cock.

But you have to pull out eventually. You leave the snug tightness of her snatch.

"Come here."

Karina drops to the tile covered floor, kneeling in front of you.

Just like you held Yeji an hour ago, you grab Karina's chin. But not to kiss her. You make her crawl towards the glass wall of your shower.

You press her cheek against it, signaling her to stay like this. The sight quickly makes you cum.

You start to shoot your load all over Karina's face. You paint her skin with your cum. She looked almost cute a moment ago. Now, she looks like a cheap whore.

"Fuck, that tastes good."

Karina is sucking her finger clean, after having scooped up some of your cum. You can't believe you came on both of your friend's daughters within two hours.

The older of the two now looks up at you, her tongue cleaning the cum off her face around her mouth.

"Would you like to become my partner for my content? You would get a cut off the profit."

"Karina-"

"You think we can convince Yeji to join us?"

"I don't think we should-"

"I think people are gonna be willing to pay if they know the two of us are actual sisters."

It feels like you are drowning in sin. It's bad enough you had sex with one of your friend's daughters more times than you could count. You now managed to fuck the older sister as well. And now she wants you to help her make money by filming you, fucking her and her sister?

"This isn't right Karina."

You try to do the right thing. But that ship has kinda sailed already. And you can't deny that a threesome with the two sisters would be mind blowing.

"Come on, daddy. You can do with me what you want. As long as we film it. And I'm pretty sure you are already using Yeji like a sex toy anyway."

[wileys-russo]

leah williamson - "you got a what piercing!?" really cheeky reader cause that's so youuu

something silver II l.williamson

it had taken all of your self restraint not to tell leah when you'd first thought of the idea, egged on during a night out with school friends when it was first floated.

you'd always had trouble keeping things in when you knew it would make someone happy. you'd spoiled nearly all of your anniversary presents purely from being unable to withhold from seeing the way leahs eyes lit up when you told her what she'd be receiving.

but you'd held your tongue and done your research and your girlfriend was none the wiser. the surprise in question was a new piercing and as much as your excitement peaked right up until the day of your appointment, reality was swift.

in the sense that it fucking hurt.

you almost broke your best friends hand who offered to go with you, the poor girl grunting in pain but putting up with it having had hers done last year so knowing all too well what you were currently experiencing.

but then it was done and you were being driven home, your best friend buying you ice cream on the way as you grabbed something for leah knowing she'd just be home from training when you arrived.

and sure enough her car was in the driveway as you made your way to the front door, tugging your jumper tighter around you and grateful you'd not worn anything tighter fitting just yet.

"lee? i'm back!" you sung out as you let yourself in, glancing around with a frown when nothing could be heard back, but then an all too familiar bark of laughter sounded from outside and you followed the source.

your girlfriend was sat on the back deck, lounging in a sun chair with her training gear on and her phone pressed to her ear, clearly chatting away with someone quite happily as you left her to it.

you instead busied yourself putting away the groceries she'd brought home with her at your request, almost done when you heard footsteps sound back into the house and a moment later arms wrapped around you.

as cute as this normal habit was as leahs hand brushed your new piercing you hissed, the blonde retracting instantly at the noise as you spun around and met her furrowed brows of concern.

"i'm okay!" you promised, cupping her face and bringing her in for a soft kiss of reassurance, leahs hands falling to your hips and drawing your body closer. though again as your chest pressed against hers you made a strange noise and recoiled.

"okay no. babe whats going on?" leah questioned, frown etched into her features as you sighed. "go sit on the sofa, i'll be in in two seconds." you nodded over her shoulder as the taller girl gave you a funny look.

"two seconds, promise. go!!" you pushed her shoulders with a small laugh as she huffed but did as you asked none the less, putting away a few things and ducking off into the guest bathroom to make sure everything was sitting correctly.

with a satisfied nod you followed after leah who was sat on the sofa with her head buried in her phone, but as soon as you joined her it was tossed to the side and an eyebrow raised curiously in your direction.

"so i did something today, and it means i have both good and bad news." you started, leah nodding for you to continue as you sighed. "so. bad news first, we won't be able to kiss for a week or so-" you started, leah sitting bolt upright and opening her mouth to argue as you held up a hand and she fell silent.

"-because i got a tongue piercing." you finished, leahs eyes widening in shock, clearly not having anticipated those words leaving your mouth. "you got a what piercing?!" leah spluttered out as you nodded with a smile.

"tongue. but while it heals we're not allowed to kiss and i have to eat soft foods and-" you started to list off as leah firmly shook her head. "nah nah you're messing with me, babe there is no way you got a tongue piercing. you're scared of needles! you fainted when you got your flu shot!" leah scoffed in disbelief.

"i really did." you nodded, barely able to blink before leah was stood up in front of you, hand clasping your jaw. "show me." she ordered clearly trying to pry your mouth open making you laugh and shove her away.

"leah!" "no, show me!" "get off you idiot!" you laughed as she almost tackled you down to the couch, squeezing either side of your jaw as you rolled your eyes but opened your mouth causing her scowl to deepen.

"liar. why would you lie to me like that!" leah huffed seeing your very much hole free tongue. "well thats the good news." you grinned, pushing her away and standing again, though this time right in front of her.

"the good news is that you didn't get a tongue piercing and aren't withholding kisses from me?" leah rolled her eyes as you shook your head. "no, i did get a piercing today." you announced as leah sighed, leaning back into the sofa clearly assuming this was another rouse.

"what? your cli-" "leah!" you cut her off with wide eyes, cheeks flushing red as she only shrugged and you kicked her gently.

"no. these!" you took her again off guard as you lifted up your jumper, revealing the two brand new rings settled into your nipples as leahs jaw slackened and almost hit the floor.

"jesus christ." the girl exhaled shakily, eyes locked onto your chest making your proud smile widen. "why wouldn't you just...lead with that." leah mumbled shaking her head, eyes never moving as you shrugged.

"more fun that way." you grinned cheekily as finally leahs eyes flickered upward to shoot you a playful glare. "well come here then, let me inspect properly." you squealed at her hands grabbing at the waistband of your pants and pulling you down onto her lap.

but right as her hands moved you took them in yours and pinned them to her side with a shake of her head. "nuh uh, no touching until they heal." you warned as leah groaned and threw her head back. "seriously? thats just cruel." the blonde sighed as your grin grew.

"patience williamson, i know thats not your strong suit but lets consider this a learning opportunity." you teased, squeezing her hands still locked with yours. "but they are-" you leaned in so you spoke right into her ear.

"-very, very, very sensitive." you whispered, kissing her neck and retreating though right as she let out a quiet groan and leaned in to properly kiss you you were off her, pulling down your jumper and leaving her almost falling off the sofa as she kissed empty air.

"fine. how long do i have to be patient for then? wicked woman." leah sighed, following after where you disappeared to the kitchen, handing her a recovery shake from the fridge as you grabbed out a water for yourself.

"three to four weeks until you can play with them." you answered casually right as leah took a sip, though clearly that was a mistake as the girl choked and you gasped as she did a partial spit take.

"leah catherine!" you growled, face flecked with shake as the blonde covered her mouth and quickly put down the half chugged shake. "baby i am so-" you held up a hand with closed eyes and she fell silent, covering her smile with her hand.

"i am going to shower." you warned, opening your eyes to glare at her as you stormed off but didn't hear her footsteps follow after you. "well are you coming?" you paused by the door to ask, raising an eyebrow as the blonde scurried to catch up almost tripping over herself in her haste.

"oh no no, you're coming with me." you warned, hand to her chest stopping her from pulling her top off as you quickly stripped off your jumper feeling your ego rise from the way leahs cheeks heated up and her eyes dropped right to your chest.

"but i thought-" "no, patience remember? so you can sit and look, but you don't get to touch." you turned around with a satisfied grin as leah groaned loudly but dropped to sit down on the closed lid of the toilet, chin resting on her hand with a scowl as you stripped off properly and stepped into the shower.

"this is going to be the longest month of my life."

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head. (3.1k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ A/N: Thank you to my numerous beta readers, including but not limited to @the-unforgivenn, @lofaewrites, @lokis-army-77, and @corroded-hellfire, and to @hellfire--cult for the divider. I am forever indebted to y'all.

chapter one: room for one more

It was always the quiet nights, wasn't it? The ones where the only sounds came from cars barreling down Queens Boulevard and splashing through puddles left by an earlier rainstorm, or from the clock ticking on the wall. 

The ones where your mind wandered until you’d thought yourself in circles, overanalyzing every last decision you had ever made.

The ones where you allowed your guard just down enough that the slightest oddity threw you off-balance—something or someone out of place. 

It was during the quiet nights like that night where you should have expected the unexpected, because New York City never stayed still for long. 

The evening’s sluggishness was normal; tourism always slowed in the springtime. The newest shows on Broadway were already months old, not to mention the warmer weather brought both an uptick in crime and pollen count. If out-of-towners were going to schlep to the East Coast, they’d prefer to see the cherry blossoms hours south in Washington, DC than to get mugged on the 1 train. 

Business picked up in the winter months when people flocked from around the world to witness the Thanksgiving Day Parade, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, or Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, even though they were several bus and subway transfers away. Outsiders to the tri-state area struggled to differentiate between boroughs; it was unfortunate for them, but you counted on it to keep business alive. 

The only guests who consistently frequented your family’s motel were junkies looking for a place to shoot up away from the NYPD’s watchful gaze or affair-havers who were considerate enough not to sully their marriage beds—just their vows. You were in no position to judge; their money was what kept the lights on, but it was impossible not to compare your clientele to the suits who stayed at the Marriott down the street. They wouldn‘t even allow homeless folks to sit within twenty-five feet of the building, let alone stay under their roof.

You leaned on the desk, wood grain pinching your elbows. You tapped your pencil against your textbook as you read, its margins cluttered with notes about different types of parent-child attachment styles. 

Sleep prickled at the corners of your eyes, blurring the words on the page in front of you. Focus. 

Secure attachment occurs when—no, you’d already read this line. Twice. 

“Dammit,” you muttered under your breath, gently slapping your cheeks in a futile attempt to stay awake. Taking a full course load instead of your usual part-time was your academic advisor’s ill-conceived idea, bolstered by the prospect of an earlier graduation. In your haste, you’d neglected to consider two important factors: all of your studying now had to be done during your night shifts, and graduating meant telling your parents a truth they were unready to hear. 

They were so proud of the motel, regardless of its reputation. It might as well have been The Plaza from the way your dad boasted about it. The three of you shared an unspoken understanding that you worked the front desk because paying an actual employee would put them under. Maybe if finances weren’t so tight, you could have freely admitted that your future plans didn’t involve taking over the business. 

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your head rested on your book, a small puddle of drool pooling atop Bowlby’s theories. 

Ping ping ping ping!

Time slowly stretched out before you, your conscious brain clawing its way out of its hazy fog. It took a beat for you to recognize that the incessant noise came from someone repeatedly smacking the tiny bell that sat on the desk. 

“Hey, hello?” an impatient voice called out, jolting you from your impromptu nap. You blinked away the residual sleepiness and took in the sight in front of you: a curly-haired man, likely not much older than you were, a cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter tucked between his lips. He had a patched guitar case strapped to his back and clutched a black garbage bag filled with what you hoped was clothing.

“Sorry,” you grumbled, wiping the moisture from your chin. “Need a room?” 

“Mhm.” You could practically hear his eye roll: no, I just stopped by in the middle of the night for a quick chat. Fancy a cup of tea and a scone? 

He plopped the garbage bag on the ground; its soft landing and the way it wrinkled told you that whatever was inside was, thankfully, not a body.

You nodded and turned around to the wall of keys behind you. There was no shortage of rooms; the only occupied one was being rented by Phyllis, a sixty-year-old self-described ‘entertainer of gentleman’ who paid double her bill in exchange for your silence. 

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the countertop, grinding it into the base for good measure. “How much per night?” he asked, digging into his pants pocket and pulling out a wallet held together with duct tape. 

“Fifteen.”

The man breathed out, his bangs fanning over his forehead. “Jesus.” He fished two twenties and a five from the billfold and placed them in front of you. “This should cover me until Friday, yeah?”

Nodding, you folded the bills and tucked them into the register kept under the desk, only accessible by key because of a series of break-ins during the late ‘70s.

The man lit another cigarette as you pulled out the ledger and a pen. “Name and date here,” you said, pointing to the ‘check in’ column. He took a drag before scrawling his name on the line: Eddie Munson, 5-4-93. 

“All right, you’ll be in…” you scanned the assortment of keys dangling from their hooks. The walls were thin, and this guy seemed decent enough, so you decided to spare him the theatrical sound effects of Phyllis’s room 10 endeavors. “…room 4. Make a right down the hallway, and it’ll be the second door. Can’t miss it if you try.” 

Your attempt at humor fell flat, both of you too exhausted to laugh. You strode past it, clearing your throat as if dispelling the tension. When you placed the key in his calloused palm, you couldn’t help but notice that the base of each fingertip is a half-shade paler than the rest of his skin. 

“Thanks.” Eddie mumbled. He tapped the cigarette above the ashtray, the gray flakes falling into a neat pile. His right bicep flexed underneath his denim jacket as he heaved the garbage bag over his shoulder, careful not to bang it against the guitar. 

He scuttled out of the tiny room masquerading as a lobby, shoulders hunched from the weight of the bag and of the burdens he inevitably carried. No one shows up to a motel in the middle of the night without a story or two. 

After years of greeting guests at the front desk, you liked to think you had a decent read on them. Eddie was quiet, maybe even introspective, but not necessarily shy. He was tired; no, more than that: he was worn down, like so many other people who had come through these doors. 

Most importantly, Eddie didn’t seem like he'd be much trouble. He didn’t stumble in wasted and reeking of booze or fidgeting as he awaited a fix. He wasn’t shouting or poorly concealing a wandering eye or making lewd comments. He’d made pretty much no impression at all besides being a bit gruff, which was just fine with you. Your personality wasn't composed of rainbows and sunshine at this hour either.

You looked at the clock and sighed when it only read 2:17. It’s already tomorrow, you thought grimly. Just under four hours until you could walk ten feet to your room, curl up in your bed, and sleep until it was time for your afternoon class. After years of balancing school and work, you were in the last two weeks of your final semester, and then…what? You casually inform your parents that you were leaving the family business–essentially forcing them to close it–to pursue a career in social work? 

That was sure to go over well.  

To their knowledge, you were studying hotel management and hospitality in order to “improve the business.” That was why they’d relented when you’d asked to start taking classes, switching you over to the night shift to avoid having to hire a new employee.

What they didn’t know is that your school didn’t even offer that as a major. Nor were they aware of the acceptance letter into NYU’s Masters of Social Work program that was stashed inside your dresser drawer, hidden from sight. That was a conversation for another day when you found the strength to face their disappointment.

Chaos waited to strike until the end of your shift. 

Just as you packed your book back into your bag, a familiar, skunky odor wafted past your nostrils. 

Ignore it, you thought. Let it be Dad’s problem when he takes over in five minutes. But if you could smell it, so could any of the cops patrolling the boulevard. One more citation and the motel was in jeopardy of being permanently shut down, and you couldn’t take that risk.

With a frustrated sigh, you yanked open the desk drawer and reached in for a pen, instead pulling out an unopened box of crayons. A twenty-four pack of Crayola—the good kind. You plucked a waxy cornflower blue from its spot and scribbled Be back soon on a Post-It note, sticking it on the front of the desk. Grabbing the pepper spray canister from its spot next to the register, just in case, you started down the hall. Marijuana wasn’t Phyllis’s drug of choice, though it might have been one of her various gentleman suitors’, but the scent was too strong to be coming all the way from room 10.

Maybe this Eddie Munson was trouble, afterall.

You knocked on his door, firmly but without aggression. It certainly wasn’t the first time you interrupted someone’s buzz, and it wouldn’t be the last. You knew better than to go in guns a-blazing; it’s easier to catch flies with sugar than vinegar. 

Eddie opened it after a moment, cracking it halfway and revealing a lit joint pinched between his plush lips. One forearm was perched on the doorframe, showing off faded ink of a litter of flying bats and a dragon-esque creature. He was clad in only navy blue boxer briefs, but his lack of attire was no surprise. Many guests were shameless, not bothering to cover the holes in their Fruit of the Loom tighty-whities and showcasing faded yellow stains on the crotch. What confused you was the elastic waistband proudly proclaiming ‘Calvin Klein’ that cut off the soft hair trailing from his belly button. It seemed absurd that he would have been lugging around any designer clothes in that trash bag, but there was no other possibility. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, shaking his curly bangs out of his face. Half-lidded brown eyes scanned your form, trying to determine whether you were a narc or trying to bum some bud off of him. His window was cracked open enough to let in fresh air, which also meant that the acrid smell could easily be let out.

“You can’t smoke that here,” you reported matter-of-factly, just as you had a million times before. When he cocked a challenging brow, you continued. “Cigarettes are fine, but no weed. The police will come after us and you.”

He looked around the room, unbothered, and absentmindedly scratched at his bare chest. A demon’s head was sketched just above a sparse patch of hair. Under different circumstances, or maybe in another life altogether, you would’ve asked him about his tattoos; if they had some philosophical meaning or were the products of spur-of-the-moment decisions. You could have blathered on about the ideas you had for your own future tattoos, if you ever worked up the nerve to actually get one. 

“You mean to tell me that with all of the skeevy shit that goes on around here, the cops are gonna waste their time on a little pot?” He scoffed and took another defiant pull, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling away from you.

I guess chivalry isn’t dead, you mused, stifling an eye roll. “No, but they’re always looking for an excuse to ‘investigate,’’' you threw air-quotes around the last word, “so they can bust us for more serious things, and that is the perfect one.” You gestured to the joint only to be met with an eye roll. “Look, you can either put it out, smoke it somewhere else, or you can leave. Full refund, but you can’t stay here.”

His stare locked onto your steely eyes and clenched jaw, only breaking when you’d straightened your posture to stand your ground. “Whatever,” he huffed, but he snuffed it out. A glimmer of a smile danced on his lips, disappearing nearly as quickly as it arrived. Despite its fleeting nature, it managed to thaw you enough so that your arms weren’t held quite so tight to your body, your expression less rigid. “Just trying to relax and get some sleep, like you were while you were supposed to be ‘working.’” It’s his turn to supply the air-quotes, both in mockery and as a gotcha. A teasing lilt elevated his voice, smoothing out the edge he’d greeted you with earlier. 

“I wasn’t sleeping, just…resting my eyes,” you volleyed back, your smirk betraying any semblance of the tough façade you’d worn. 

Eddie crossed his arms and walked over to the garbage bag of clothes. He rummaged through it for a moment before procuring a pair of gray sweatpants, stepping into them hurriedly as though he just remembered his minimal attire. 

“Maybe if you chose more interesting reading material, you wouldn’t be sl—resting your eyes on the job,” he amended, gesturing to the textbook in your canvas tote bag. “Ever heard of Stephen King?”

“I live in a motel, not under a rock.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You live here?”

Shit. That wasn’t information you regularly divulged. Sure, this guy seemed harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Prime example: wearing designer underwear while using a trash bag in lieu of a suitcase. 

It was too late to double back, so you nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. The sole of your sneaker dug into the old carpet. 

Eddie looked like he wanted to say more, lips parted and eyes wide like there was a follow-up question sitting on the tip of his tongue. Before he could ask it, your gaze landed on the clock radio: six AM on the dot. 

“I need to go,” you said hurriedly. Shame at your sudden shyness burned a hole in your belly. Eddie Munson was a guest; for all intents and purposes, he was a total stranger. There was no reason to be intimidated by him. “Good luck falling asleep,” you added with a weak smile. 

The easy banter that had been building between you dissipated in an instant, taking his good mood with it. His goodbye was a sardonic salute, the mattress springs creaking wearily as soon as you closed the door behind you. 

Sure enough, your dad was in the tiny lobby, assessing some peeling wallpaper. “Gotta fix that,” he mumbled to himself, thumbnail picking at it aimlessly. He turned around when he heard the door open and smiled when he saw you. 

“Sorry, I was helping out a guest,” you rushed to explain, hoping he wasn't too anxious to find the desk left unattended. 

The wrinkles in your dad’s forehead became more pronounced. “Is everything alright?” The phrase ‘helping out a guest’ could range from unclogging a toilet to calling the police for a domestic dispute. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reassured him quickly, flashing an exaggerated thumbs-up. “No law enforcement necessary. Didn’t even need to use the pepper spray.” You waved the canister in your palm before placing it back. 

He beamed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your scalp. “It’s times like this where I just know I’ll be leaving this place in good hands.” 

You swallowed the bile that crept up your throat and feigned a smile when  he pulled you in for a tight hug. The mingled scents of Irish Spring soap and drugstore aftershave tickled your nose, and tears stung along your lash line. 

If only you knew, you thought, giving him one last squeeze before you headed to your room. Disappointed wouldn’t even begin to cover it. 

Your parents would never say the word aloud; they’d look at each other and heave identical weighted sighs. Their lifelong goal of a long-standing family business would vanish in the blink of an eye. Dad would pretend there was a chance that they could afford a new hire, even going so far as to fumble through the years of financial statements before inevitably throwing in the towel; Mom would force a pained smile and hoarsely encourage you to follow your dreams, even at the expense of theirs.

You shook the thought away as you trudged towards your room, sneakered feet like sandbags below you.  Dwelling on this scenario had you teetering on the brink of insanity, so you’d willed yourself to focus on something else. Anything else.

Like the motel’s newest guest and his smile. The way it softened the hard lines on his face, offering you a glimpse of how he wore happiness. Something about it made you want to see him happy again. 

You can’t even figure out how to make yourself happy, you thought, peeling back the starchy sheets and finally crawling into bed, much less a stranger. For all you knew, he was just relaxed because his high was starting to kick in, and not from some warming presence you’d supplied. 

The sun cracked pink through the sky, visible through the paper-thin curtains hanging on the window. You had become accustomed to this backwards routine, able to fall asleep while daylight broke. It took a few extra moments this time; you were anticipating marijuana-tinged fumes to float through the vents when Eddie ignored your instructions. 

It was that flicker of a smile that had you almost certain he would spark up once you’d left. The smile of someone who so naturally flouted authority that he no longer bragged about it. Yet time ticked by without a hint of evidence that he was smoking again. 

Which begged the question: if the smile didn’t signify defiance, what did it mean?

Eddie Munson is definitely trouble, you surmised just before you drifted off, but nothing you can’t handle.

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @chrissymjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @bewitchedmunson @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

[ieatfanficforbrunch]

People Pleaser Steve

Steve is a people pleaser. Years of living with his parents and their demeaning stares and harsh words have destroyed his sense of self preservation.

"Keep Eye Contact, Steven," his mother would say. "Stop Complaining, You need to make our guest Comfortable." His father would say. Until the age of ten all Steve got was criticism. Constant reminders on how to behave perfectly and how to appease his parents.

The morning they decided he was old enough to stay home himself, coincidentally on his 10th birthday, they packed up and started renting an apartment in Chicago to better monitor their Business. They sent him money for food, got him a bike so he could go to school, they even sent a few extra 20s every other month so he could get new clothes as he grew.

Of course, Steve never complained. This was how he kept the peace, how he avoided the cold glare from his parents.

The pattern continued into adulthood, Steve practically raised himself for the last 8 years of his childhood, he only saw his parents when they needed him.

When he (accidently) became the mother of the nerdiest bunch of kids in Hawkins, he made himself a promise, No matter what he'd be there. Every recital, every birthday party, every holiday, and every time they needed a ride; he was there.

When Christmas came around after everything had happened, after Max had recovered and Eddie's wounds had healed perfectly, he decided he would make it the best Christmas they'd ever seen. Just to make them happy.

He decorated the entire house, made enough food to feed his small football team of a group, he got so many presents for everyone that he had to skip out on food three days a week for two months just because he wanted it to be perfect.

The kids came over on Christmas Eve night to spend the night together, slept in sleeping bags he bought special for them. Eddie came to help wrangle the crazies until Robin got back from visiting her grandparents in Ohio.

They ate like they were starving or like it was their last meal. All except Steve, who was too afraid to overstep or take away from someone else to even try one of the many kinds of food he made.

The games died down and the food was gone by midnight. The kids slept peacefully in their sleeping bags. Steve let out a small sigh, a smile on his face as he stood and took empty platters and plates to the kitchen.

He washed the dishes in silence, a baggy crew neck sweater replacing his usual polos. He knew if he wore them the others would notice he had lost weight and he didn't want to inconvenience them. It was rude to burden others with your problems. He honestly thought he had gotten away with it until a familiar Metal head guided him to the kitchen table.

"Ok Big boy, This isn't working for me," He said in a soft voice.

Steve immediately looked up, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again," he whispered, not even sure what he did.

Eddie sighs and says, "Steve, You think you're hiding it so well but you aren't. You take care of everyone and everything all of the time. Let me take care of you."

Steve couldn't move, couldn't respond, How Was he supposed to behave? He didn't know so he merely nodded.

Eddie smiled and immediately made Steve a bowl of cereal, something small and quiet. When he was positive Steve would eat it, he finished the dishes for him.

Steve looked so beat down and tired, the bags under his eyes told so much and Eddie knew that from now on he would do Everything to keep them away.

He took the empty bowl and washed it before walking over to Steve. "I know it's a bit early but...I got you something," he whispers, pulling out a small box from his back pocket.

It was a light blue box with a thin red ribbon and white trim. Steve's thin fingers removed the lid to find a locket in the shape of a guitar pick.

Inside there were two pictures, one with the kids, and one with Steve and Eddie. It was the picture from when Eddie was discharged, the day Steve agreed to get treatment for his wounds. Eddie's arm is around Steve's shoulders, it's the only picture in the world with Steve's Real smile. His eyes swelled with tears. It's the only gift he's gotten since he was 10, since his parents left to run their company, since Everything.

"Shit I didn't mean to make you cry again! I just-" Eddie is cut off with the tightest hug he's ever gotten.

"It's Perfect," Steve whispers.

He's met with calloused hands on the back of his head, gently massaging his scalp.

"Merry Christmas, Harrington."

"Merry Christmas, Munson."

[watchmegetobsessed]

DESSERT

A/N: idk why im so obsessed with pregnancy fics lately, maybe i should check in on my cycle lmao

WORD COUNT: 1k

PAIRING: CEO!Harry x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY: Harry gets hit on at an event, but the woman fails terribly, because he only has eyes for his pregnant girlfriend who is busy by the buffet table.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Another waiter offers Harry some champagne, but he respectfully rejects and keeps sipping on his water. His gaze trails over the crowd of guests, the room is full of influential people from all kinds of businesses, people Harry should definitely be mingling with, making connections, but he is trying to find one particular person.

From across the room, a tall, blonde woman spots the lonely millionaire and a devious smile curls up her red lips. A predator-like look takes over her eyes, but she moves like a gazelle as she crosses the room, heading straight over to Harry, determined to seduce him at all cost.

“You don’t fancy the cocktails?” she asks him. He looks at her with a respectful smile and nod.

“Not… Not tonight.”

“You looked awfully lonely over here. Thought I would introduce myself, I’m Savannah, it’s nice to meet you.”

She holds out a perfectly manicured hand that he shakes lightly.

“I’m Harry.”

“Harry Styles, owner of Styles Industries, right?” The smirk on her face tells him she knows exactly who he is, the introductions wasn’t needed.

“Yeah,” he nods anyway.

“I feel lucky I found you alone, I think it might be a sign that we should get to know each other more.”

She pushes closer to him, brushing a hand down his arm and she blatantly ignores the way he takes a step back. She is too driven to get what she wants to notice the signs.

“This night has been nice, but I can’t wait to get back to my hotel room, get rid of this tight dress and relax.” The dramatic sigh she lets out gets lost somewhere between her and Harry, because he is not even looking at her, eyes scanning the guests. She notices his disinterest at last, but doesn’t give up just yet.

“You know, it can get a bit lonely at events like this for a single woman. I wish I had—“

“Excuse me,” Harry cuts her off when he finally sees the person he’s been trying to find.

As he walks away, Savannah’s jaw drops to the floor, no one has ever rejected her the way he just did, but he doesn’t even notice how hurt she is. He has his eyes on the only woman he cares about in the room.

You’re standing by the buffet table, your silver gown matches his tie and it gorgeously emphasizes your round stomach that’s been Harry’s favorite thing in the past couple of months. You have a plate in your hand, all kinds of food stacked on it starting from mini burgers to steak and it seems like you’re still looking for something to add. Harry can’t hold his smile back as he watches you run your free hand down your stomach, eyes scanning over the variety of food in front of you.

God, he is so obsessed with you, has always been, but now that you’re carrying his baby it has gotten to a whole new level he never thought could be possible. But it is, you’re everything he ever wished for and cannot wait to officially become a family in just two short months.

“There you are, thought I would have to go into the ladies restroom to find you,” Harry smiles down at you as he steps closer to you, placing a hand to your lower back.

“Oh! Sorry, I got a little distracted,” you chuckle and crane your neck so he can kiss your lips shortly, as if it hasn’t been just ten minutes since he last saw you.

“S’okay. What do you have here?”

You look down at the plate and sink your teeth into your lower lip when you realize how much food you’ve piled up.

“Um, I—This is for both of us. I thought we could… share?”

He knows this was just for you and you only said it because you feel ashamed of how much you’ve been eating lately. You’ve put on quite some weight, it’s hard to say no to your cravings, especially when your boyfriend loves to spoil you with your favorites every other day.

Harry doesn’t mind the extra weight. He loves it. He loves every change in your body, let it be your cellulite on your thighs or the stretch marks on your belly. You were afraid he wouldn’t look at you the same way at you anymore once you’ve started growing and changing, that he wouldn’t want you the way he used to.

Well, he does look at you differently, but in the best way possible, he loves on you just as often as he used to, if not even more often, he tells you how beautiful you are ever chance he gets and most of the times he is having a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

Like right now. If only you were alone, he would move his hands to places that are only for his touch.

“Mm, you just eat all that and I’ll bring you dessert. You better feed yourself and our baby or I will do it myself.”

“I already had a big plate, shouldn’t I hold myself back?” you whisper, heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks.

“No. If you crave it, eat it, Love.” He kisses the top of your head and runs a hand down your stomach. He smiles when he feels a tiny kick under his touch. He takes it as a sign that he did the right thing. “See? He agrees as well,” he chuckles.

“Already teaming up to plot against me?” you sigh, but can’t hold your smile back.

“Only if it’s for your well-being.” You pout your lips at him, still not sure how you got so lucky to have him as your partner. Harry leans down and kisses the pout off your lips before reaching out to grab another plate. “So, what do you want for dessert? Macarons? Brownies? Cheesecake?”

“Exactly in that order,” you nod, making him laugh as he stacks the goods on the plate without a word.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[krirebr]

More Than This 2

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, no noncon but some fear of it, excessive alcohol use, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Another part already??? This one has just been flowing right out of me. It occurs to me that I should probably explicitly state that this will have a happy ending! Possibly very far in the future, but it will happen!! 😂😭

Huge thanks again to @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and letting me know when I was on the right track.

Visual references for the ring and dress can be found here.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Despite your best efforts, the next three weeks went by in a blink.

The engagement ring arrived the day after your disastrous dinner with Ransom. It was beautiful—a round diamond with a smaller sapphire on each side, set in swirling filigree. You wondered who picked it. Certainly not Ransom. Probably someone’s assistant. It felt like fire around your finger.

You’d packed up the small apartment you loved so much. Sorting everything into what you would bring and what would be put into storage – the latter category was much bigger. You sat in your living room, surrounded by boxes, and cried, with Steve beside you and Lola nervously shaking in your lap. 

Your mother took you to pick your dress. She sat on the plush couch in the appointment-only boutique and sipped champagne while you tried on dress after dress that the attendants brought you. Her favorite was an ivory satin ballgown with off-the-shoulder short sleeves, a bow at the bottom of the back, and a very wide skirt. She cried when you put it on. You told her it was your favorite too, because you just didn’t have it in you to have an opinion.

 The Thrombey clan came into town the week before the wedding. Their time was mostly spent in meetings with Joseph and his team. Meeting the new extended family was to be left for the wedding festivities.

You hadn’t heard a word from Ransom. You’d thought of texting him a few times but couldn’t see the point in it. He’d made his feelings on you and your upcoming marriage clear. Any added effort would just be torturing yourself.

Then, suddenly, the rehearsal dinner was passing without incident. It was a catered affair, held at your parents’ house. Despite being one of the two nominal guests of honor, aside from the initial introductions, you were mostly ignored, as business remained the topic at the forefront of everyone’s minds. Ransom was there, of course, seated next to you, even, but he did his best to avoid you. You were torn between intense relief for the moment and absolute terror for what it meant for your future. When you noticed him quietly ducking out, you took the opportunity to leave as well, hoping most people would think you’d absconded together. The thought made you laugh bitterly.

You spent your last night of freedom snuggled up with Lola in Steve’s guest room. You barely slept.

Now, you sat in a plush robe in front of the vanity in the large hotel suite that sat several floors above the event hall you’d be getting married in in just over one hour. Steve sat sentinel in an armchair near you, already in his tux. People had been coming in and out all day – manicurists, aestheticians, makeup artists, hairstylists, your mother until she’d gotten called away for the pictures they didn't need you for. The female members of Ransom’s family too. His aunt, Joni, had only been in briefly, saying that the energy of the room was all wrong and she’d had to leave. Her daughter Meg had sat with you for a while, but she just kept complaining about how awful Ransom was and Steve eventually kicked her out, probably trying to spare you a panic attack. And then there was Ransom’s mother, Linda. She had been in a few times ‘to check on the progress.’ You’d tried very hard not to get stressed out by her, but she was very… severe, and you felt about a foot tall every time she looked at you. And now here she was, again.

“Darling,” she said, and you tried not to balk at the fact that you’d know this woman for less than 24 hours and she was already using endearments, “you’ll be needed for pictures soon and you aren’t dressed yet?”

You gestured to the two people at the rolling clothing rack who were carefully removing your dress from the garment bag. “We’re about to start putting it on. I’ll be ready soon.”

“Fantastic. Maybe it’s time for Steve to go then,” she cut a glance to your stepbrother.

“Not fucking likely,” he muttered. He’d been stuck to you like glue all day.

Linda’s eyebrows crawled up to her hairline. “I just think that some people might find it inappropriate for you to be in here while your sister gets dressed.”

He stood up and took a step toward her. “I’ll turn around,” he growled.

“Steve,” you sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” It wasn’t. You wouldn’t be, but none of that could be helped.

He looked at you carefully, his eyes flitting over your face. Finally, he nodded, “OK. I’ll see you out there then.” With a quick, reassuring touch to your arm, he left. 

Linda watched him leave and once he was out the door, she turned to you and said, “You and your stepbrother are very close, aren’t you?”

Something about her tone made you incredibly wary. “Yes,” you said cautiously, “he’s my best friend.”

“Isn’t that lovely?” she said with a thin-lipped smile that made it clear she thought anything but. 

You noted her reaction as you returned her smile and removed your robe. You let the attendants help you step into the dress where they’d pooled it on the floor. They pulled it up around you and you stood still as they fastened and arranged the dress on you. All under Linda’s watchful eye, her arms crossed over her chest. When it was all done and you’d stepped into your heels, you turned to her so that she could give the approval you could feel she was dying to give.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” she said. Just as you were about to thank her, she added, “Although, I suppose it would be hard not to be, with all these people working on you, huh?” Her tone was warm and friendly, but you took it as the cut down you knew she meant it to be. 

Still, you smiled. “Well, we should probably get down there, shouldn’t we?”

Everyone oohed and aahed appropriately when you arrived at the courtyard space reserved for photographs. Your mother was crying again. Joseph smiled at you, possibly the warmest smile he’d ever given you, and said “Beautiful,” but it was less like a compliment and more confirmation that everything was the way he needed it to be, like he was commenting on furniture. You smiled anyway and thanked him, then moved where the photographers directed you. 

This round of pre-ceremony pictures was reserved for the families. Ransom had already done his and then been dismissed, to ‘preserve the big reveal’ you were told. You’d been asked earlier if you wanted to do first-look photos and declined. That had been interpreted as you wanting to have the big moment when you walked down the aisle to him. Instead, you just knew that he wouldn’t give them the reaction they were looking for. You’d rather spare yourself that embarrassment. 

The thing about these arrangements was that while they were all about business and everyone knew it, people still wanted the trappings of romance. The big wedding at a fancy venue, awe on the groom’s face when he saw the bride in her dress for the first time, a joyful reception with speeches about true love. It had made you roll your eyes when you’d gone to friends’ weddings, but now that it was your own, it all made you want to scream. 

You posed with Linda and Ransom’s father, Richard, a benign smile on your face. And then it was Harlan’s turn. “You look absolutely lovely,” he said to you, kindly. “You’re going to be so good for my grandson.” You responded with that same placid smile. You wondered if anyone had told Ransom that he was going to be good for you. You doubted it. That part didn’t seem to matter.

Next, it was time for your own family. Your mother and Joseph, together and then separately, and then Steve joined you for the full family. Once that was done, the photographers started to dismiss you, but you stopped them. “I want a few with just me and Steve.”

They looked at you and then Joseph and Linda, “That’s not on the list of required shots.”

“I don’t care,” you said, “I want them.”

“Darling,” Linda started, and you wanted to growl, “I’m not sure there’s time.”

“I don’t care,” you said again, “everyone can wait the five minutes this is going to take. I’m the bride, I doubt they’ll start without me. Isn’t today my day?”

Linda took a step back and nodded to the photographers but you could feel her watching you as Steve stepped up to you. “And people think I’m the troll,” he said, low enough for only you to hear. 

You smiled, possibly your first genuine smile all day. “You are the troll,” you said. “I’m the sweet one who does what she’s told without complaint.”

He snorted, “Sure,” and turned his head as the photographers directed. 

When it was all done, you took a deep breath and tried to prepare yourself as everyone but you and Steve began to make their way back inside.

“You ready?” he asked, concern all over his face.

You shook your head. “Not even remotely.”

He looked over your shoulder. “I know–” he began but stopped for a moment before he started again. “I know that if she had lived, we never would have met, but I still think, sometimes, about how much my mom would have loved you. Just as much as I do.”

“Steve,” you gasped.

He grabbed both of your hands. “You are the strongest, bravest person I know and you can do this.”

Your eyes welled up as you squeezed his hands, feeling like you’d completely fall apart if you let go. “I don’t know if I can,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he said, oh so gently, “all you have to do right now is get through the ceremony. That’s it. You don’t need to think about what comes after. Focus on what’s directly in front of you. Nothing else. Just walk down the aisle and say I do when it’s your turn. That’s it. You can do that. I know you can do that. I wish you didn’t have to, but you can.”

 You took a deep breath. And another. And then you nodded. “I can.”

He smiled, big and genuine and still more than a little sad. He pulled you in for a hug, exceedingly careful to not mess anything up, and said again, “You can. I know you can.”

Someone stepped out of the big French doors leading into the vestibule your party was gathering in and waved frantically at you. Another deep breath. “OK,” you said.

He just nodded and guided you back inside.

Joseph walked you down the aisle. It wasn’t your choice, but this day had always been more about him than it ever was about you, so of course he would be the one to walk you. You would have chosen Steve. But you also would have chosen not to do this at all. 

The walk was both agonizingly long and much, much too short. Ransom waited for you at the end of it, dressed in a designer tux and devastatingly handsome. You searched his face for anything, but he remained completely stoic, his eyes hard. You had to look away.

There were so many people gathered to watch your life change forever. As you gazed over the faces of the people seated on your side, you weren’t sure you recognized even half of them. You realized with a jolt that this was the most alone you’d ever felt, in this hall surrounded by hundreds of people, all eyes on you.

So much sooner than you were ready for, you’d arrived at the front, Joseph placing you in front of Ransom and joining your hands together. Ransom’s hands were soft and his grasp wasn’t nearly as harsh as you’d expected. You took a deep breath—every other thought since you’d stepped into the hall was to remind yourself to keep breathing—and met his gaze. It was still hard, but, maybe, maybe there wasn’t hate there.

Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough yet to be able to tell. 

The ceremony went quickly. You struggled to focus on the officiant’s words. It was like you were in a sort of fugue state. But you repeated after him when you were supposed to. You said ‘I do’ when you were prompted. You played your part.

Ransom did too. You’d half expected him to just not show up at all, or walk out part-way through, or something but he was under the same familial pressures as you, you reasoned. At the end of the day, you all just did what you were told.

Before you knew it, it was done. There was a ring on your finger and one on his. You barely remembered placing it there. You registered the officiant saying “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” and stared at Ransom. You expected him to swoop in and take what was his, but he paused. There was a clear question in his eyes. Shocked, you realized he was asking permission. As subtly as you could, you nodded. He gave a barely perceptible nod back and then he was kissing you. It wasn’t chaste, exactly, but it certainly wasn’t passionate either. Open-mouthed, but no tongue, and done quickly, the faintest taste of whiskey on his lips. Everyone applauded.

   The processional music started and you began to move without even realizing it, Ransom right beside you. And in that moment, when you had nothing else to focus on, no other immediate job to do, everything hit you. Holy fuck, you were married. This man beside you was your husband. One of your knees buckled and your steady leg caught the edge of your dress and just as you were sure you were about to go down, someone grabbed your hand and you felt another hand on your opposite hip, holding you up. “Wait to collapse in private, if you can,” Ransom murmured to you, dryly, then basically carried you the rest of the way down the aisle. 

You were both ushered into a small sitting room off the main hall for a moment of privacy as your guests were moved into the ballroom where the reception would take place and before you would take pictures with your new husband. Once the two of you were alone, you tried to steady your breathing and shove down the panic clawing its way up your throat. You were married. It had actually happened. It was real. You steadied yourself on the bookshelf beside you and tried to think about what Steve had said. Focus on what was directly in front of you. You’d gotten through the ceremony by doing that, so now it was just pictures and the reception. That was all you had to worry about. You could do that. You could.

“You good?” Ransom’s voice cut through your internal monologue and you turned back around to face him where he was standing on the other side of the small room, pasting that fucking smile on your face. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Today is just a lot. But I’m fine. Thank you for helping me, before.”

“Well,” he smirked, “I couldn’t have my new wife embarrass me thirty seconds in, could I?”

Your smile went brittle and a small voice in your head chanted fifty years of this but you tamped it down. Pictures and the reception. Pictures and the reception. That was all you had to get through right now.

There was a light knock and then the door opened. One of the photographers peeked in, a camera in their hand. “Sorry to interrupt,” they said. “Just wanted to get some intimate, candid shots, before we go outside for the formal pictures.” Their eyes moved between you and Ransom and you knew they were measuring the space between you.

You shook your head and tried to keep your tone friendly. “No need, just the formal ones are fine.” You didn’t need any more documentation of this day than was absolutely necessary. 

“Oh,” they said, surprised, “well, Mrs. Drysdale wanted–”

“Linda can fuck right off,” Ransom interrupted. “We’ll come outside now.” He shouldered his way past them and out the door. You just smiled and followed him, the photographer chasing after you both.

The pictures went quickly, you both seeming to want them over with as fast as possible. He didn’t say much to you, aside from the occasional exclamation like, “Jesus Christ, is this skirt big enough?” when he tried to move around you or pose behind you. The photographers kept trying to get you to look at each other, but when you did, it clearly didn’t give them the result they wanted, so they moved on quickly.

Afterward, you were escorted into the ballroom, where your entrance was met with applause. Your face was beginning to hurt from all the placid smiling you’d done all day. 

You blanched when you realized that you and Ransom were the only ones seated at the head table. You wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. 

There was still some time before dinner would be served. You could already see people beginning to make their way toward you to offer their congratulations to fill the time. A server appeared at your table and you asked for a glass of champagne. Ransom requested his usual scotch then added, “There’s an extra hundred in it for you if you make sure I’m never holding an empty glass tonight.”

You could see the disaster waiting to happen, so you tried a quiet “Ransom,” as the server left, not really thinking before you said something.

He let out a hollow chuckle. “If that’s the kind of wife you’re going to be, let me tell you right now, this marriage isn’t going to work. I don’t respond well to nagging.”

You took a breath, “I wasn’t trying to nag,” you said, “I just–”

“Ransom!” a loud voice interrupted you. You looked over to see Ransom’s uncle, Walt, approaching your table. You’d been introduced to him very briefly the night before. “Congratulations on finally growing up and settling down,” he said, once he stood in front of his nephew. You felt Ransom stiffen next to you, but his face just had an obnoxious smirk on it. Walt’s eyes briefly cut to you but then returned to Ransom. “Although, she’s pretty young, isn’t she?”

Ransom rolled his eyes, still smirking. “Well, it’s not like I picked her, is it Walt? You got a problem with it, go tell Mom or Grandad.” 

You bit your lip at being spoken about like you weren’t sitting right there. But you knew better than to cause a scene, so you quietly said, “Excuse me,” and left the table. Neither of them seemed to notice, locked in a hostile stare-down.

You’d only made it a few feet when someone you didn’t recognize was pulling you aside to offer their congratulations. You smiled and politely nodded through it and when it was done you were grabbed by someone else and then someone else. You crossed paths with Steve briefly before you were both pulled in other directions. You only got a break when they started serving dinner. You got back to your seat to find Ransom sitting alone, sipping his scotch as full plates of food were placed before you. You didn’t have much of an appetite.

You picked at your food and mostly moved it around the plate, while Ransom ate hungrily beside you. Neither of you said anything. After the second course was served, the speeches started. Joseph mostly spoke about the two families coming together and all the opportunities that represented. You wanted to stage whisper to him that it was customary to at least mention the couple at some point, but then he sprinkled Ransom’s name in. A brief mention of how proud he was to be gaining a son like him. You wanted to laugh. They barely knew each other. As if Joseph cared at all about what kind of man he was giving you to. You were finally mentioned at the very end as he toasted his “beautiful stepdaughter and her new husband. To a long and fruitful marriage!” You wanted to break something.

Harlan, for his part, was much more focused. He, of course, referenced all the new opportunities this would bring, it was why you were all here, after all. But he mostly talked about his grandson, how much he loved him, all the potential Ransom had, and once again, how good you were going to be for him. You wondered if you just started screaming right there, what people would do. 

As for Ransom, judging by his body language, he seemed to enjoy both speeches just as much as you had. You wondered if the rest of the guests could feel how miserable you both were and just chose to ignore it. Probably.

When the speeches were done and the tables were cleared, it was time for your first dance. Ransom made it clear by the way he stood up that this was the last thing he wanted to be doing. You tried not to let it bother you, it wasn’t like you were especially excited about this either, and kept your head held high as you came around the table to join him. He took your hand to lead you onto the dance floor and you were once again surprised by the way he held it gently when you’d half-expected him to drag you out there.

You hadn’t chosen whatever song you were about to dance to. You could’ve, probably, but you’d begged off of most of the decision-making for the day, unable to drum up an opinion on any of it. So you had no right to complain as the opening strains of “At Last” filled the ballroom, but you had to stifle an eye-roll anyway. Of course, they went for something that romantic, that cliche. They were all lucky you didn’t burst out laughing.

Ransom pulled you in close with a hand on your lower back, as you put one of yours on his shoulder and he took your other hand in his. It all felt strangely respectful, the way his hand didn’t wander from the small of your back and he held you close but not too close, with plenty of breathing room between you. You weren’t sure how to wrap your head around it, what it all meant.

He was a good dancer, most likely the product of formal dance lessons as a teenager, just like you’d had. It made it easy to keep your polite smile in place as all eyes in the room were on you.

“You’re good at that,” Ransom said.

You shrugged. “A variety of dance classes since I was seven.”

He chuckled. “No, I meant the smiling thing.” When you just looked at him, confused, he continued. “Unless you’re much dumber than I think, you hate this just as much as I do. But look at you, that smile hasn’t dropped all fucking day. You’re having such a nice time, aren’t you? Being the good girl they all expect you to be. Can’t ever let them know you’re upset. Oh no, that just isn’t done.”

You nearly tripped, but you had the good grace to keep going. You kept your face pleasant to everyone watching as you gritted out “And what am I supposed to do instead, huh? Glower and glare because I didn’t get what I wanted? Be an asshole to everyone? And where exactly would that get me? We’re both here, Ransom, stuck in this. At least my way of dealing with it doesn’t make anyone else’s life more difficult.”

He chuckled again. “No one’s but mine,” he said, but instead of just irritation, there was a glimmer in his eye, too, that you couldn’t begin to interpret. It was almost like part of him was having fun. 

The song ended, fading into the next, and more couples joined you on the dance floor. Keeping your hand in his, Ransom led you back to the table, depositing you there and grabbing his drink, before disappearing amongst the tables. 

Ransom didn’t come back. You'd stayed at the table for a bit, for want of anything else to do. When you got bored of that, you wandered through the crowd, accepting congratulations and trying to find familiar faces. You knew there were a few of your own friends in attendance, but you were afraid to face them, knowing you’d see pity on the faces of the luckily single and recognition on those who were already married. You wouldn’t see much of them anymore anyway, with you leaving for Boston the next day. You couldn’t think about that yet. Focus on what’s in front of you.

You were periodically offered champagne from a passing server and you accepted every time, leading to you now feeling pleasantly floaty. It was a nice break from just how very much you’d been feeling the rest of the day.

You arrived back at your seat, without really intending to, to find Steve waiting for you. He was staring into the corner of the room with a disgruntled expression. “I could fucking kill him,” he mumbled.

You followed his gaze and found Ransom with a group of Harvard-looking bros doing shots by the bar. You shrugged. “He’s getting drunk over there and I’m getting drunk over here,” you said as you downed your champagne and began looking around for a server. 

Steve sighed your name. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

He guided you to a chair and then sat down beside you. “Where’d you get off to?” you asked.

Steve rolled his eyes and groaned. “Dad,” was all he said. You nodded. For all that he wasn’t in your situation, as his father’s heir, he had many heavy responsibilities and obligations weighing on him. You were both caged in by this family.

“Does that mean you’re speaking to him again?” you asked, your voice free of judgment.

Even so, he grimaced. “Only when I have to.” He sighed and looked at you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Steve,” you said, sincerely.

He shook his head. “It’s not.” He paused, then, “I wish there’d been a way for me to stop this.”

“Steve,” you sighed. It wasn’t worth talking about again.

Over by the bar, Ransom let out a loud, hearty laugh that carried over to where you were sitting. Steve glared. “You don’t deserve this,”

You shrugged. “It’s what I have, I guess.” Then before he could continue the conversation, you added, “Can we please talk about anything else?”

He looked at you carefully and then nodded. “Sure,” he said, the sympathy in his eyes almost too much for you to bear, and then launched into a twenty-minute explanation of the painting he was working on. You didn’t think you’d ever been more grateful for him. And you hadn’t even thought to ask a server for more champagne. 

The conversation only ended when your mother appeared in front of you. Steve stood up to greet her, smiling warmly, and then excused himself, squeezing your hand as he went.

“Honey, we’re going to go. I just wanted to make sure I said goodbye to you first.”

You stood up and hugged her. “You’ll be there to send us off tomorrow, right?”

“Oh, honey, no. Joseph had something come up and you know how hard it is for me to get around by myself.”

You felt the bottom drop out of everything. “You’re not going to say goodbye?”

“Of course, I am, darling. That’s what I’m doing right now.”

Suddenly, only focusing on what was directly in front of you was impossible. You were married to a stranger who couldn’t stand you. Tomorrow, you would be leaving everything you knew to go to a new home where you didn’t have anything or anyone. And your mom wouldn’t even be there to say goodbye.

“Steve would come to get you, you know he would,” you tried desperately.

“Honey, no, I can’t,” she said firmly and it took everything in you not to burst into tears. “Now, come on,” she drew you into another hug. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Mom,” you whispered, your voice so thick. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Of course, you can,” she pulled back and looked you in the eye. “I know it seems hard, now, but it’ll be easier than you think to keep him happy.” She gently touched your cheek. “All you have to do is listen, and not argue too much. You’re going to be such a good wife and mother. I just know it.” 

She leaned forward to hug you again and you went stiff in her arms. Everything she’d gone through – two marriages that weren’t her choice, a husband that was so cold to her and her daughter, a lonely life. And here she was, offering you up for the same fate. You didn’t know how you were supposed to bear this.

“Have a safe flight,” she whispered in your ear and then she was gone. You didn’t watch her go. You just sank back into your chair, ready for the night to end. 

A while later, you heard someone call your name. You turned around to see Richard. “I think it’s time for Ransom to call it a night.” You followed Richard’s gaze to see Ransom slumped over in a chair. You almost asked him why he was telling you. Then you remembered that Ransom was your husband now. Your problem, your responsibility. You nodded to Richard and thanked him, smiling at him, of fucking course. 

When you got to Ransom, he looked up at you and laughed. “Well, if it isn’t the wife!” he slurred. “We were just talking about you.” You looked over at the men on either side of him, equally drunk, and tried not to feel too humiliated. 

The crowd was thinning, but there were still people around and you could feel their eyes on you, so you did your best to keep your tone and face calm. “Ransom, it’s time to go up to our room.” 

One of his companions snickered and you were suddenly struck by what might await you in that room. You’d been so focused on just getting through the next thing that you’d protected yourself from thinking about what he might want, what he might demand, once you were alone. But looking at him now, as he struggled to stand up or get any control over his body at all, you hoped that you might be safe for this night, at least. 

Steve appeared at your elbow. “Fucking ridiculous,” he mumbled, low enough that it didn’t seem to be for you. Then louder he asked, “You need help getting him up to the room?”

You turned to him to answer, but then you saw Linda over his shoulder, watching you both carefully. You shook your head. “No, you can’t. I’ll be fine. I’ll–” Ransom took that moment to fall loudly back into his chair. He was way too big for you to handle on your own. You sighed and looked around for anyone who might help. “I’ll get Richard to help me.”

Steve looked at you confused. “I can do it.”

“I know,” you said, “but I just can’t let you. It– The way it would look,” you shook your head again.

You could tell he still didn’t get it, but he let it drop. “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow. And if you need anything between now and then,” he sent a scathing look to Ransom, “you call me.”

You nodded, knowing you wouldn’t, as he squeezed your wrist and left and you went to track down Richard.

After much struggle, you finally got Ransom into the honeymoon suite, Richard retreating as soon as his son was safely dumped into an armchair next to the bed. And then you were alone with him. You just stared at him for a moment, then asked, “Can you get yourself undressed?”

“ ‘fcourse,” he mumbled, then thrashed around in his tux jacket. You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to still his wild movements, then tugged off the jacket. You carefully began unbuttoning his shirt, trying to touch him no more than absolutely necessary, but he still smirked at you. “That desperate to get me naked?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and tried to keep going, but a hand on your wrist stopped you. “Hey,” he said, very seriously. He tried to lock eyes with you, but his kept drooping, as he continued. “We don’t have to do anything t’night. Not if you don’t want.”

You scoffed. “Yeah?” you asked. “Is that you or your whiskey dick talking?” You regretted it immediately, you were so tired. You waited for the insult to land, to see how he’d react, but he’d stopped paying attention, his head lolling against the back of the chair. You finished with the buttons and kneeled in front of him to take off his shoes. When that was done, you stood back up. “Please tell me you can get your own pants.”

He nodded, shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt, and stood up. He struggled with his belt for a few minutes, but eventually got it off, then pawed at his fly until he was able to undo that as well. As he moved to the bed, his pants slowly slid down his legs. You tried not to look at him, but you couldn’t help yourself. Under any other circumstances, you would find him so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. How dare he look like that and treat you like this. Just another aspect of this whole fucking mess that made you want to cry.

He stumbled to the edge of the bed and then threw himself forward, collapsing onto it face down, lying across it diagonally. Almost immediately, he started snoring. You just stood there a moment, watching him take up the entire bed. Fuck. It was fine. It’s not like you were going to sleep much anyway. You tugged his pants the rest of the way off his legs and threw them onto the pile of the rest of his clothes. 

You turned your attention back to yourself and stopped, suddenly gripped by panic. You tried to reach behind yourself and begin unfastening your dress, but the line of delicate hook and eye fastenings was too difficult to get without being able to see them. And you couldn’t reach all of them anyway. Oh god, you were going to be stuck in your dress all night. 

There was no one to help you. Ransom was out like a light and would be too drunk and clumsy even if he were conscious. Your mom had gone home. You couldn’t call Steve. He would come help at the drop of a hat, but if anyone saw him coming into your room… No. You were completely alone.

Every feeling you’d tried to push down and ignore this whole awful day came bubbling to the surface. You finally cried, your body wracked with sobs. You couldn’t control it. As you did, you still tried to wrestle with your dress, but your panic and sorrow made getting out of it impossible. So you sank down to the ground and just let the tears come. 

When you were finally all cried out, you stood up and moved to the bathroom. You took off your makeup and took down your hair, redoing it in the way you always slept in. You brushed your teeth and finished up with your skincare routine. Then you went back into the bedroom and grabbed a blanket off the bed. You moved into the adjoining living room and sank down onto the couch, arranging your giant dress around you. You turned on the TV and settled on a marathon of some procedural crime show you were pretty sure you’d seen before. You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted the night to go quickly.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @citronbun @ladyvenera @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle

[sunlightmurdock]

“You can kiss me you know” and “i’m going to ruin you.”

With dilf Bradley

ehehehe okay here we go. So I really debated with this one on who to have say our first line, because it really really would have been fun either way. But in this scenario, I’m imagining that it’s a sunny Saturday afternoon and Bradley’s house is filled to the brim with family and friends, and far tooooo many children because it’s one of his kids’ birthday parties.

But, what none of his guests know yet is that for the past seven days, the two of you have taken the plunge and finally given into the way you feel for each other. While leaving your room last night, Bradley had scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck and sighed. “I guess we should keep our hands to ourselves for tomorrow, at least. Right?”

You’re never affectionate in front of his kids, but you know he’s more concerned about what the grown ups attending would say.

You had agreed with a shrug and a coy smile.

He had been expecting it to be easier; he’d managed to keep his hands off of you, for the most part, for the first eight months you’d lived with him.

There’s just something about watching you flit around the party with the biggest smile on your face and his kids parading behind you — even his youngest is crawling after you with a halfway gummy grin. All the adults are telling him how lucky he is to have found someone so polite and wonderful to help him out, and they have no idea.

They don’t even know half of the ways you help him. How much he has grown to live for the nights that the two of you get to stay up late watching movies, or when you’ll keep him company in his office, how he’ll find you half awake in the kitchen some mornings and get real close to take the whining toddler from your arms. Now, he gets to kiss your temple as he takes her, and he’d been waiting a long time to get to do that.

He catches sight of you carrying the youngest upstairs, checking his watch to confirm that it’s her nap time. He bites the inside of his cheek, interrupting his busy conversation to explain that he’s just going to give you a hand, since the baby gets so fussy around this time.

Not a word of it’s true, she’s already asleep and you’re closing the door to her nursery behind you as he meets you at the top of the stairs.

He sighs, walking closer and closer until you’ve got no choice but to step back. You’re grinning as your back hits the hallway wall, his hands finding your hips, his features creased in concentration. You can tell he’s arguing with himself on what to do, trying his best to behave. Your eyes glint with mischief as you catch his gaze.

“You can kiss me, you know.” You tell him, lifting your chin and letting the tip of your nose bump his.

He groans softly, squeezing at your hips.

“I’ve got half a mind to send everybody home so I can do what I’ve really been wanting to do.” He murmurs, thumbs digging into your hipbones as he presses himself against you, not quite letting your lips touch.

Your grin doesn’t falter, giddy with this still new side of him and the electricity it makes you feel.

You make the decision for him, catching his mouth in a hungry, urgent kiss. Your fingers skim over the nape of his neck, brushing past his short hair and up into the longer curls at the crown of his head. He can practically hear your heart thudding when you let him go, your mouth still grazing his as you murmur. “You can do whatever you want to me, Bradley.”

His eyes find yours, dark and wanting. He presses a fraction of his weight into you, anchoring you to the wall. His focus shifts, searching your face like he’s counting the possibilities, adding things to the list. The look on his face has your mouth growing dry.

“Dad! — He pulled my hair!”

“She started it!”

Over the sounds of the party, the two of you both become aware of the sounds of little running feet. He pulls back and groans, letting his head drop back. You rake your teeth over your bottom lip, sighing softly and squeezing your thighs together.

“I’ve got this.” You mumble, moving to brush past him and head for the stairs. He isn’t letting you go that easily, catching you by your forearm and pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.

“My bed tonight,” His fingers skim across your ass, but it’s the way his fingers curl around the flesh that makes you gasp and stand up straighter. “I’m going to ruin you.”

Your mouth hangs open as he leaves you with a kiss to your temple, stepping around you and jogging down the stairs, ready to break up the argument that’s coming.

[nrdmssgs]

König meeting civilian reader Scenario (part 2)

Masterlist

Part 1 here

Huge shoutout to @ethanhoewke and @patyog for helping me realize, the second part was possible.

After a month, reader meets König once more, this time in more intimate atmosphere. König gets cuddles)

It was not an easy task to gather all your friends together. Not because your group was particularly big. You just were all growing older: some started families, others changed jobs, places of work, every next year there were more adult problems, keeping some of you away from others.

So you weren't surprised, when only a few of your friends agreed to come to that little party of yours to celebrate your move to another part of town.

You scroll down your group chat, counting, how many people will come, when you stumble upon a message of your friend, who introduced König to your company.

"I'm coming with *Königs civilian name*"

You felt, as if a little light flickered in your chest.

Even though the last time, you've seen this humble and gentle giant was almost a month ago, you still remembered him time to time and smiled. His voice, soothed and carried away by the talk, you two had, still resounded in your ears from that conversation in the bar.

Behind the menacing figure, there was a warm soul. Not a most open one, but still... You didn't need much time to figure it out.

There were these little "cracks" in his reserved demeanor. Little shy smiles, happiness flickering somewhere deep in his silver eyes, when his mind was consumed with something, he was passionate about.

You weren't sure, why exactly, but you were happy, you'd see him once again, hear his sweet accent.

The moving itself is scheduled for the next day, but this is your old tradition - to celebrate not in the new, but in the old apartment. As evening falls, your friends begin to gather.

König and your mutual friend are among the first to arrive. You greet them warmly and lead them into the living room.

He smiles, but does not look up and seems to be trying to press himself against the wall, take up less space.

You feel sorry for the poor guy, so you give him a little tour of your apartment, just to keep him busy.

"And here is my bedroom. Now it's almost full of boxes, as you can see. And the bed seems to have been taken over by Bo," you laugh, pointing at the fluffy red cat's tail sticking out from under your blanket.

He almost steps into your bedroom, but stops abruptly in midstep."E-ehm, is it ok, if I say hi to him?"

"Go on, this old buddy can be grumpy, but he enjoys a good scratch. Just don’t expect anything big from him, he isn't the most outgoing pal."

And so you leave those too alone at peace. You don't tell König, that your old cat tends to ignore strangers, unless they bring him treats.

The evening goes on, you chat with friends and almost forget about two discreet quiet buddies hanging out in the next room.

That is, until it's time for your old tradition: a ritual you've developed with your friends a long time ago. You called it "Hyde scroll". In honor of the move, you and your friends bought a roll of paper and the cheapest set of paints. The roll was laid out in an empty room and everyone had to draw or write something that is now weighing on him. Someone confessed their love, others drew caricatures of their boring colleagues or bosses. There were no restrictions or rules in this matter. At the end, the one of you who was going to move took the resulting collage with him.

And when you uncorked the sparkling wine and poured it into glasses and prepared paints and paper on the floor - you remembered that someone was missing here.

"Hey, I'm sorry, we completely forgot you here!" you stop at your bedroom door, shocked by what you see. König is sitting on the floor by the bed, and your cat Bo, who is usually not interested in guests, stretched out on his chest and pressed his red snout to Koenig's chin. Bo`s purring so loud, as he never did with you.

König seems to enjoy it so much, he would gladly purr too if he could. His massive hand covers the whole upper body of Bo, who was never considered a small cat. The other hand is rested under Bos` paws to serve him as a support.

The guy looks at you and shyly smiles. "He wanted cuddles, I guess."

"H-how did you do that?" you ask, utterly confused. "Bo is not the easiest one to make friends with..."

König looks down in embarrassment at the cat purring loudly on his chest. "I didn't do anything special, honestly. I guess, animals just love me."

You giggle and pull him by the hand to the living room, where others already enjoy their sparkling wine and creative freedom.

The appearance of König with a cat in his arms causes a sensation in the room. "This is the first time Bo has hit it off so quickly!" notices one of your friends.

You even get a little jealous of your cat. You lived with him for 13 years, and he never slept so peacefully in your arms if you got up and walked somewhere.

Perhaps it was because you were much smaller than König and the cat was not so comfortable when you walked somewhere with him in your arms.

König sits down on the floor in front of the spread paper and looks at what the others had drawn and written. Sometimes he chuckles softly, sometimes sighs tenderly. He still holds Bo carefully in his hands.

You move paint and brushes closer to him. "I can't, my hands are full. And this is where your friends should paint, not someone you see a second time," he says, looking up at you.

"Hey, we're already friends, since you almost stole my cats' heart," you get down on the floor next to him and take the cat away from him, getting a disgruntled look from Bo. "I trust my buddy here, he won't open up so easily to someone not worthy. So might as well call you my friend."

König looks taken aback by your words and you proceed. "Here, you see that small doodle at the corner? It's from our mutual friend. And you know, how our friendship started? I liked his T-shirt and I just walked up to him and asked where can I buy a same one. Fast-forward to this day - we're almost best friends. So... friendship doesn't always have to be earned or to start with anything big. Sometimes it just... you know, just starts."

His expression slowly changes to a more understanding one. You start telling him about other doodles and people behind them. In several minutes a little barely visible smile blooms on his face again.

In the end, you convince him to take a brush and paint something. You even promise not to peek as he does it.

When the evening comes to an end and almost all your friends leave, Koenig helps you clean up after the party. Almost the entire apartment is filled with boxes of things you packed for the move. You have to maneuver between them, like in a maze.

At some point, you turn from behind a mountain of boxes and almost trip over König. He catches you at the last moment and for some reason apologizes.

"You have nothing to apologize for, it's all about moving with endless boxes," you laugh back.

He looks around the rows of boxes and looks at you anxiously. "Are you going to load everything into the car tomorrow yourself?"

"Well, of course, I can ask Bo, but something tells me that he will not help me."

He chuckles as he looks back towards the bedroom, where your cat has gone. "Can I... can I help you tomorrow?"

"Hey, it won't be fun... Just a full day of loading, unloading, heavy lifting, putting oddly named furniture together. I don't think, it's something, you want to spend your time on."

"I'd be spending my time on my friend... And besides, heavy lifting never bothered me."

[fulloftheloveyouwant]

Shedding season

Summary: Mountain is going through the most frustrating season for an earth ghoul, winter. The early and middle days of winter are over and on comes the late days of it, which is when antlers shed.

He's itchy and miserable. Swiss offers his assistance in a multitude of ways and Mountain starts talking about some ideas he's had. Many fall through but Swiss is willing to try one of them.

Warnings/Tags: anal sex, anal fingering, breathplay, choking, blood kink, overstimulation, orgasm edging, inappropriate usage of quintessence, blame Swiss (of course..), inhuman ghouls, and general inappropriate use of elements. Oh, and a singular bite.

Rating: Explicit, MDNI 18+

Length: 5.7k works

Notes: Originally posted on my Ao3, admittedly I had no plans for these two at first but um.. Rain and Phantom wasn't working out for what I was originally working on so here we are. Almost 6k words later.. And here we are. Guilty as charged for this one, it's mostly all porn.

Well, the season was here. Shedding season. Winter is in the later months, his antlers have served their purpose after becoming bone and now they were itchy. Sooo damn itchy. It seemed like every few minutes he was scratching them against something.

Nothing relieved the itch because of course it wouldn't, but he still tried anyway. Rubbing up against trees with your head is only so fun after a while, yet here he was miserably scratching against the tree hoping today would be the day they both fall off. He'd even take one if it meant the itching stopped.

He groaned, feeling no relief. He moved his head back before letting his forehead drop and rest into the bark of the tree, he's about as angry as this tree is. Although the tree is angry about the lack of water and not about having a pair of antlers. Trees don't grow antlers. Obviously. Unless they do.. Then that's news to Mountain.

He was still standing there, deflated against the tree with all sense of hope that his antlers would ever fall off quickly leaving him. His tail that had been swatting at the air had hit something tangible which made him turn around in surprise, only to see Swiss who was busy eating a salad wrap and looked confused at what Mountain was doing.

"My antlers won't drop so I'm trying to encourage them to drop faster." Mountain explained, miserable mood evident in his voice. They'd just become even more itchy over the past few days and it was near unbearable, but it also meant they were close to dropping. Swiss finished his last few bites before speaking.

"Did you need help? If I can help..?" Swiss offered, "If you feel like scratching the base for hours be my guest.." Mountain muttered back, a frown on his face.

Swiss was more than happy to take Mountain back inside specifically just so he could go help release some of that discomfort, in two ways- Second way was irrelevant for now but the first way was simple, just scratch 'em!

Once they reached Mountain's room, Swiss admired the scene. Mountain's room was a beautiful converted sunroom situated on the more private side of the church, not many people went by this way if at all. So the sights were pretty and secluded..

Swiss always had to stop and appreciate how nice Mountains room is. Lucky earth ghoul..

They both climbed into his bed, Mountain was careful with how he situated himself in Swiss's lap. Once comfortable though he curled up, his tail wrapping around his own leg as he let Swiss scratch quietly at the base of his antlers. It soothed the deep seated itch he'd been dealing with for at least a week.

Swiss was grinning watching Mountain go from being moody to being sleepy by the second, in calm moments with the others he falls asleep the easiest and right now he needed all the rest he could get after trying all day and night to remove his antlers. They still hadn't dropped but he had faith they'd drop eventually.

Swiss let Mountain sleep, keeping one hand grazing his nails on the base of his antlers as the other one fished his phone out of his pocket to scroll on social media. You wouldn't believe how much they had to beg Copia for WiFi, the previous ghouls didn't think it was necessary!

Anyway, their incessant begging (whining) worked and now they have pretty damn good WiFi if Swiss says so himself.. He tends to be the most involved with the internet, at least when compared to the others.

A few hours passed by and Mountain finally awoke, moving his head and accidentally nudging Swiss in the stomach with his antlers. "Back up?" Swiss asked as he ignored the sensation of being poked, he turned his phone off, he'd have to finish watching that video later.

"Mmm.. I don't even want to get up." Mountain complained, his eyes still closed as he continued laying in Swiss's lap. "Well, you don't have to get up if you don't want to." Swiss reminded, free will and all. Wonderful thing really. "I didn't water my plants today." Mountain says back, "So? They'll be okay for one day. You of all people should know that." Swiss teased, he pocketed his phone and pet Mountain underneath his chin.

This made him start purring, a rather elusive noise from ghouls but it does happen. His other hand briefly scratched the antler's bases again, as Mountain's purring got louder. Swiss chuckled seeing Mountain's blissful expression, "Enjoying yourself?" Swiss teased, "Very much so." Mountain mumbled back.

After several calming minutes, Mountain sat up. Stopping Swiss completely, he yawned and stretched his emerald eyes opening back up as he looked over at Swiss. Swiss reached out to cradle Mountain's freckled cheeks, "You're sooo cute. Be lucky Copia thinks it's immoral for ghouls to eat each other." Swiss says with a massive grin.

"You'd eat me if Copia didn't ban it..?" Mountain questioned back, Swiss's choice of words had stupefied him. "Uhh, next question?" Swiss then says, tilting his head as he closed his eyes with a smile. Reason 682 why Swiss is horrifying: May or may not be a cannibal.

Mountain laughed at his mental comment, Swiss was just being playful. At least Mountain thinks he's just being playful but then again, if any of them turn out to be cannibals it'd definitely be Swiss. Swiss released Mountains face, Mountain gave him a curious look but Swiss was staring out at the windows watching the sun go down.

"Seriously, no fair he gave you the best room!" Swiss groaned, "I need it for my plants." Mountain says back, his room was appropriately covered in plants. "They have to be exposed to the sun to grow-" Mountain explained, "I know that! But you still have the prettiest room." Swiss says, falling back into the pile of pillows near the headboard.

Mountain laid beside him, "Do you remember what we had talked about a week or so ago? About wanting to try something new?" Mountain says, he was wide awake now. Clearly something has caught his interest, Swiss hummed. "Yeah, what about it?" Swiss says back, his own brown eyes landing back on Mountain who was staring adoringly.

"Can we try something from one of my books?" Mountain then asked, "Your books? Love, aren't most of those about gardening techniques?" Swiss says with a laugh, Mountain's face turned to one of brief confusion then he lightly shook his head. "No, they're hard eroticas." Mountain corrected plainly which in an instant made Swiss choke on his air.

"What?!" Swiss spat out as he sat back up, now violently coughing. Mountain aptly also sat back up, "I thought you knew. Maybe you all just don't pay attention.. I know the ghoulettes know." Mountain says, a contemplative tone in his voice. Once Swiss stopped coughing and choking, he looked at Mountain with a mixture of horror and interest.

Mountain never really talked about what he was into, mainly because it's generally too extreme for his close relationships and he doesn't plan to terrify or horrify anyone with his interests. So he's been all around the board known as the "vanilla" one.

He doesn't role-play, he doesn't get in costumes, he won't use toys generally, he won't even take risks. You can imagine why this is so shocking to Swiss who had a perception of Mountain being the closest thing to a reserved maiden out of their pack. He won't even send nudes or do dirty talk! Even Phantom does both of those things..

Swiss was astounded, now he needs to really know just how kinky their gentle giant is.

Mountain was more than glad to go through just the books in his room, he did warn Swiss that a lot of them were downright terrible or just disgusting but Swiss thought he could handle most of them. He in fact could not. They cycled through dozens of books, each one having extreme kinks in them.

By the end, Swiss was traumatised that Mountain was in fact not gentle at all and probably wanted to be gang banged viciously by all of his partners.

"What the fuck?!" Swiss finally exclaimed once it was all over, "I was hoping you would've said yes to the tentacles.." Mountain expressed his disappointment quietly as he meandered back over to the bed and collapsed in it. "The tentacles were objectively the most normal part of all of that!" Swiss says, still breathless from the scene.

Mountain just shrugged, reclining beside Swiss once more. "Can we still do something at least?" Mountain then asked, while his antlers may not be itching like crazy anymore he still had a different itch he wanted to scratch. "As long as it's not from anything you read, suuure.." Swiss says cautiously, those books are going to be burned into his memory now.

"Well- Those are mostly just fantasies anyway. That's why books are fun." Mountain clarified, "Yeah but you read them in your hammock when outside, I never expected them to be eroticas like that." "You never asked," Mountain shot back. "That's probably a good thing now that I know." Swiss says, a weary smile on his face.

"It's not all I read anyway, I really like fantasy and fluffy romances." Mountain says, sounding like he wanted to go curl up with a book right now. "Uh huh.. After all that?" "I'm varied in tastes." Mountain defended, despite Swiss's shock once he settled more he's sure he could act out some of the kinks the books had with Mountain later on.

By all means despite Swiss's disbelief he was arguably just as bad as Mountain but he tends to actually explore said concepts unlike Mountain.

Swiss cleared his throat and his mind alike as he focused, "Anyway- What did you want to do?" Swiss asked, the blush on his face fading since Mountain was no longer reading out explicit excerpts from books to him. "Can we try using your quintessence and air elements while you ride me?" Mountain asked, oh how direct.

"If that's what you want?" Swiss says back, the directness was at least appreciated. Dancing around it wouldn't help either of them. "Yeah, you can choke me. Just be.. Careful." Mountain confirmed as he sat up, "And the quintessence?" Swiss questioned not wanting to go too far without Mountain's permission.

"Do whatever you'd like." Mountain replied back, the room was now covered in the blanket of night as outside was illuminated by the stars and the moon which was the only light they were receiving. "Huh.. Okay, my choice then." Swiss says back, a small chuckle accompanying it.

Swiss moved to straddle Mountain's lap early, Mountain was predictably erect but Swiss couldn't say anything since he was in the same predicament.

Plus he smelt Mountain dripping with arousal a while ago, ghouls have sensitive noses. Arousal for them tends to smell like their favourite aroma, off the top of Swiss's head he knows Rain loves the smell of petrichor, Phantom smells baked goods, Mountain smells vanilla.. Wait, is he remembering that correctly?

"Hey Mount-" "Hmm?" "What do you smell when someone's aroused?" "Oh, that's easy. Hyacinths." Mountain answered quickly, "Don't you keep a lot of those in your greenhouse..?" "It used to be vanilla, then I discovered lavender, then hyacinth. I keep whichever one I like the best at the moment growing in the garden." Mountain explained.

He rotates between fragrances that he enjoys and therefore the smell he picks up on also changes. Mountain is weird- In Swiss's opinion anyway. Most ghouls get suspicious when they smell their favourite scent because it's hard to tell if it's arousal or something harmless like say, a perfume.

For Swiss the smell changes drastically but more recently he's been enjoying the scent of burning cedar wood. Beforehand he was quite a big fan of sugar cookies.. Aether made too many in a short span of time and he got used to the lingering fragrance.

"What do you smell?" Mountain reverses the question as Swiss was unbuttoning their pants, "Uhh burning cedar wood, yeah. Smells so damn good.." Swiss replied carelessly, "Oh- You've moved on." Mountain noted, "Yeah, I'm kinda surprised you don't like the smell of new books." Swiss laughed, he undid his belt and pushed his pants down first as he was the easier of the two.

Mountain's hands go underneath Swiss's shirt before pulling upwards, "I do but it doesn't smell as good as flowers do." Mountain helped the shirt over Swiss's head as he was the first one to be bare, "Right- But you can't even smell the vanilla so what's the point in growing them?" Swiss was now way too invested in this discussion.

"They're still pretty even if the orchids themselves don't carry the familiar scent. Besides I tend to grow lilac around the same time to mask the lack of smell." Mountain explained his choices, they collectively pushed Swiss's clothes to the floor before helping Mountain out of his.

Swiss gave an acknowledging hum to Mountain's previous words, he was more focused on his actions now that Mountain was also free of fabrics. "First- Where's the lube?" Swiss asked, Mountain dropped his head back against his headboard as he tried to think. Swiss reached up and scratched the base of his antlers for a moment making Mountain exhale shakily.

"Dresser, second drawer under my uniform." Mountain then says sharply as it came to him, "Thank you- Now stay right here." Swiss says with a grin as he got off of Mountain and the bed. He came back just a little later lube in hand, "You use water based?" Swiss asked as he looked at the bottle while getting back on the bed.

"Uh.. Yeah, I just like the feeling of it." Mountain replied back as his eyes followed Swiss until Swiss sat back in his lap. "I wonder if Copia knows how much money we've spent at sex shops." Swiss says with a chuckle, "I'd hope not.. That'd be embarrassing." Mountain whined, "You have nothing to hide! Or do you..? I've already found out one of your secrets today." Swiss mused with a grin.

"I think I'll keep that one a secret." Mountain replied with a huff, "Fine fine- Keep your secrets then." Swiss dismissed as he applied the lube to one of his hands, it spread easily and was slick. Mountain was watching intensely, once his hand was thoroughly covered he inserted two fingers into himself.

The stretch was a warm welcome, Mountain felt himself throb instantly as he watched the way Swiss grinded on his fingers and moaned. A bead of precum welled at the head of his cock, he couldn't resist stroking himself to the sight.

Mountain bit back any noises as he was mesmerised by the way Swiss rolled his hips, or how his fingers would hit a particularly good spot. His fangs were starting to dig into his bottom lip, Swiss added a third finger gasping out as his own cock dribbled a steady line of pre.

Mountain stroked slowly, the strokes were strong yet steady as he listened to the way Swiss's breath hitched or how he'd moan quietly. His eyes completely closed as he was almost ready, stretching himself just wide enough to take Mountain.

Mountain stopped once his cock twitched in his hand, a whimper leaving him as he looked at Swiss needily. "Swiss..?" Mountain muttered, he didn't want to be forgotten. Swiss's eyes opened as he pulled his fingers free, a heavy sigh leaving him as it felt like a weight had been lifted off of his chest.

"I should've let you do that." Swiss mumbled as he scooted further into Mountain's lap preparing to take him in. Mountain couldn't reply, but his hands started to move. One helping line his cock up and the other holding Swiss's waist and help ease him down onto Mountain's member.

Swiss inhaled sharply, his eyes looking down between them even though he couldn't see the merge point. Mountain tensed up, unsure if he should continue. "I'm fine- It's just thick, you know that." Swiss calmed Mountain back down, a few more inches to go and Swiss was fully in Mountain's lap. Swiss exhaled before grinning, looking up at Mountain.

Mountain's breaths were shallow, Swiss was so tight.. "You aren't going to bust are you?" Swiss teased, running a clawed finger down his chest. "You're really tight." Mountain whimpered, his eyes looking between himself and Swiss. "Is it me who's tight, or you who's too big?" Swiss laughed before leaning forward to kiss Mountain.

Mountain was desperate for the contact, their hands were all over each other while they were kissing that progressively evolved to them making out. Despite Swiss pressing on Mountain, he stayed sitting upright and didn't fall over like most do. Swiss chuckled as he pulled away, tongue licking over his lips.

"I think we're good to add a little bit of my touch to this." Swiss says while trailing his hands up Mountain's chest, Mountain knew what Swiss was implying.

"Do you want air already? Or.." Swiss asked, giving him a choice. "No- Quintessence please." Always polite, even when in the middle of sex. Swiss could almost roll his eyes but it was an endearing trait.

Once his hands reached Mountain's face he pulled him back in for another kiss, this kiss was different from the other one that only made him long for Swiss. This was quickly giving him a feeling close to intoxication, not quite like being high or drunk but maybe something in-between?

His body was fuzzy and he was acutely more aware of any sensations. Swiss's touch felt like a fire in a field at night, captivating and the only thing you could look at. Swiss's hands roamed down his back, claws gently dragging downwards as he did so. Mountain moaned as his hands pulled Swiss closer to him, they hadn't even started properly and this was already so much for him.

Mountain pulled away from the kiss, needing air. He gasped in a mild manner, turning from Swiss. Swiss didn't mind, he kissed Mountain's cheek instead as it had been offered to him. "I wonder about your antlers.." Swiss commented between kisses, "If I could help them fall off..?" He then pondered aloud.

Swiss's touch moved up quickly until Mountain felt the heat of hands on his antlers, he tried to speak but any word he tried to form came out as gibberish and babbling. Still, Swiss seemed to understand. "You like it?" He asked with a grin, Mountain's vision was hazy. It'd remain that way as long as Swiss could touch him.

"I'll come back to your antlers then.. Are you ready?" Swiss asked, Mountain nodded enthusiastically. Swiss had barely moved his hips and the pleasure was delightful, addictive even. In this state while under the influence of Swiss who was directly affecting him, it was so easy to succumb to it. It felt like it was eating his body entirely.

His hips moved in a simple pattern, Mountain was still able to keep his eyes on Swiss (somehow) which amused the multi-ghoul greatly. "Do you need me to lessen it? You look like you're struggling." Swiss maintained a level of composure despite feeling the ripples of arousal going through him as well.

Mountain shook his head, he wanted to stay like this for as long as Swiss would let him. It was too much but too little at the same time and he loved it. It seemed to dull everything that wasn't focused on pleasure, when Swiss started to suck marks into his skin he could only grip at him back in response.

His claws were the least of his worries, not like he could retract them right now even if he wanted to. Mountain scratched long stripes into Swiss, Swiss moaned out at the pain and smiled against Mountain's skin. He managed to keep a consistent and continuous pace with his hips, rocking back and forth as Mountain groaned at the sensation.

Swiss continued kissing into Mountain's skin, Mountain was getting close already he could feel it. It was hard when Swiss was intentionally targeting erogenous zones, or spots where Mountain was particularly sensitive at. He made his way up Mountain's neck, that.. That was a really difficult spot.

Mountain inhaled keenly as he felt Swiss's fangs test the skin there, it was Mountain's weak spot. Right.. There. His claws punctured into Swiss at the same time Swiss sunk his teeth into the meat of Mountain's neck.

His orgasm crashed into him, coating everything in a hazy static except for the district wetness of Swiss's tongue licking up the blood from Mountain's neck. His eyes were closed as he whimpered, Swiss hadn't even blinked once Mountain came.

The hotness of Mountain's seed didn't bother him, nor did the claws drawing blood from his back. Once Mountain was actively more aware again, Swiss tapered off the quintessence slowly. He didn't want Mountain to crash right after all of that, quintessence has the funny side effects of making things feel lifeless if you don't let someone down carefully.

Swiss pulled away from Mountain's neck, a pretty purple bruise being left there along with bite marks. "How was it?" Swiss asked with a small smile, Mountain pulled his claws out of Swiss once he was capable of doing so. Swiss gasped but didn't say anything about it, it's pretty well known he likes getting off to blood and pain alike.

Mountain's not the only freak around these parts.

"Incredible." Mountain says, his breathing was still ragged. "You should've seen your face, absolutely gorgeous when you're at your end." Swiss cooed, brushing hairs out of Mountain's face. Mountain blushed a sage colour at the compliment as he adjusted his posture, it was time for a position change..

Mountain helped Swiss off of him momentarily as he switched to laying down instead, once he was laying down he looked up at Swiss who was already sinking onto his shaft again.

Despite Swiss always being chatty (even in bed..) you could tell when he was close by the way his skin would become more sticky, or his tail would start flickering in an irregular pattern or how his chest would be struggling to regulate his breathing.

Mountain cleared his throat making Swiss look at him, "You need to finish too." Mountain says, voice particularly rough but clear enough. "Oh trust me- It took every inch of self control I had to not cum all over your chest just now." Swiss says with a laugh as his thighs were able to straddle Mountain once more, Mountain gave him a questionable glance.

"You could've." Mountain stated, "Could've. But then I wouldn't have got back up, trust me." Swiss says with a chuckle, Mountain couldn't argue against that. While Swiss isn't generally a one and done type, he does enjoy edging himself which he was clearly doing with how he's done it a few times already. If he starts edging then once it's over, it's completely final.

Fingering himself, straddling Mountain, yeah- He was prepping himself for a nice one. "One more then we'll stop." Swiss warned, mostly for his own sake. Air would be involved this time and he didn't feel comfortable with either of them being tired and messing with such a dangerous element. So, the second round was the last round.

Mountain nodded, Swiss got more comfortable now that he wasn't actively on the cliff. He moved and situated himself better, his left hand clings to Mountain's antler while his right hand wrapped around Mountain's throat. Mountain swallowed nervously, Swiss's thumb was pressed directly into the still fresh bite.

"If you want me to stop at any time, tap me, shout, struggle- Do something just.. Don't sit there." Swiss says, concern in his voice. Mountain wasn't too worried about that aspect, he could toss Swiss off of him at any time if it came to it. The idea of losing your air is bound to give you anxiety at first but he wanted to try it.

Mountain gave a small nod and with that Swiss started. He was riding Mountain properly now that the new position was more comfortable for him, Mountain gasped at the sudden sensation. Swiss was being orderly with everything. You'd almost think he planned this.

His hand on Mountain's antler tightened as he was faster now with his pace, Mountains eyes winced as he felt Swiss start to squeeze his throat slightly. See.. The unique thing about the air element is he doesn't actually need to do anything to steal the air out of Mountain's lungs.

It's a miracle Cirrus, Cumulus, or Aurora haven't killed one of their pack with such a menacing element. They've done plenty of things to annoy those three for sure..

The air just happens to leave Mountains parted lips, he doesn't notice until he tries to breathe and can't. Swiss monitors closely even if it meant he was less focused on the way Mountain was hitting every nerve inside of him perfectly, he'd hiss but continued on.

Once Mountain started to reach for Swiss's forearm he let the air rush back into Mountain's lungs. There's an instant blood rush from that alone, the brief panic made everything so clear. The exact opposite of quintessence that made everything fuzzy. "Again?" Mountain whimpered, "If you say so.." Swiss huffed out.

This is fucking tiring! Not the whole air thing but riding someone. Swiss stilled while catching his breath, "Mount, gonna need you to work with me here." Swiss exclaimed.

Mountain titled his head but was ready to accommodate in any way possible. "You've gotta be on top now, or at least help me. I'm tired and my legs are becoming jello." Swiss stated, he was breathing particularly hard.

Mountain bowed his head, willing to change positions with Swiss. Just as they were about to, Swiss yanked unfortunately harder than he meant to when removing his left hand from Mountain's antler and it popped right off.

He screamed. He won't lie. He absolutely screamed. The antler just tumbling between the two of them and falling onto Mountain's stomach, splashing into a pile of Swiss's precum that had been leaking there. Meanwhile Mountain just let out the most pleased groan Swiss had ever heard, his eyes darted between the shed antler and to Mountain.

Mountain's tail began to hit the bed, his groan sounded similar to a rumble and made Swiss slightly shrink as he was worried he had injured Mountain. "Did I.. hurt you?" Swiss asked, voice shaking from everything that just happened. "Oh Satanas, NO! I've been waiting for that all day, it's a type of satisfaction that even sex can't achieve." Mountain explained with a fulfilled voice.

"But the.. Stump thing is bleeding." "Pedicle, it'll heal in a few days. C'mon, let's switch positions." Mountain was relatively casual thanks to one of the biggest annoyances in his life finally falling off, he tossed the shed antler to the floor without even paying it a sprinkle of attention.

Well, that was horrifying.

Swiss's uneasiness was forgotten once Mountain laid him down on his back and took up the top seat above, he held Swiss's legs up and set a quick pace. He had a lot more energy than Swiss and was noticeably seeking his end, Swiss moaned harshly when Mountain hit his prostate.

Swiss had one last chance to steal a breath from Mountain before it'd be way too risky to continue. Mountain felt himself get light-headed, his pace slowed considerably. He fell quiet, his grunts being silenced as he tried to breathe his way through the feeling despite knowing it was impossible. The feeling was getting worse as Swiss slowly cut off more and more of his air.

Then, he removed it entirely. Two seconds. That's all it took. The familiar feeling of choking, not having enough air.. There was a certain beauty to be had in it.

Swiss then released his hold on Mountain's air capacity, Mountain inhaled greedily as the air felt raw to his lungs. His head was still swirling, but he recovered quickly. If anything it was to spite Swiss at this point.

A growl comes out of him as he looks down at Swiss who looks all to pleased with his handiwork of pissing Mountain off. It didn't actually make him angry but seeing as he was now on top and in a certain "mood," he didn't take kindly to Swiss interrupting his pace.

His hand goes to stroke Swiss, he's so slick after leaking all over himself. Easy to jerk, his hand practically glides over him. His other hand was clawing into Swiss's side, his claws intentionally harming this time until he saw crimson. Not enough to permanently harm or even scar but enough to draw out the metallic scent.

Swiss gasped at the pain, Mountain's noisy above him with grunts, gasps and small moans. Once the smell of iron hit Swiss, he came. White hot ropes shoot from his cock rather violently after edging for so long, they reach to his chest before slowing down until he's just leaking. Mountain pushes him anyway, wanting more and stroking him harshly.

Did Swiss really think he was getting out of it that easily? No. Never. He presses into Swiss's sweet spot, continues stroking him and purposely overstimulates the multi-ghoul until he sees the pinpricks of tears. Swiss doesn't tell him to stop, he doesn't want Mountain to stop.

The aftereffects of his first orgasm which was so strong already pulled him over into a second one, it hit him harder than the first. His moan was loud as he writhed under Mountain, squeezing him deliciously as he sank into Swiss's depths for the last time and came.

Mountain didn't pull away his hand until every last drop was squeezed out of Swiss and had leaked onto his hand or Swiss's soft stomach. He waited until he didn't feel his cock twitching anymore inside of Swiss, once he was certain he gave everything he had- He pulled out.

Mountain promptly groaned now from exhaustion as he dropped beside Swiss. Swiss was.. Gone. The only movement he did do was turn towards Mountain, Swiss couldn't even form a coherent thought so he definitely couldn't speak.

Mountain pulled him in for a cuddle anyway, their warm bodies merging together. Mountain didn't care about how sweaty and dirty they were, he ignored the cum that messily spread between the two of them.

They'd totally need a shower in the morning.

Swiss woke up first, incredible considering he took the hardest hit from all of that. His processing speed was very slow today after expending so much energy yesterday, Mountain is completely passed out. One arm hanging around Swiss and the rest of his body laying flat down.

Mountain's tail was about as still as the rest of his body, Mountain tends to look lifeless whenever he's sleeping. Swiss moved out of Mountain's loose grip, assessing the damage on himself and Mountain. Just a few claw wounds and a bite that would probably finish healing today or tomorrow, Swiss ran his finger along the dents in his side.

He'd have to ask what part pissed Mountain off so badly last night, it was way too much fun to not ask. But priorities first, he's all gross and has a bunch of dried fluids sticking to him that need to be washed off. He turned back to Mountain, "Mount, c'mon wake up." Swiss poked normally at first.

Once he realised Mountain hadn't so much as even moved, he started pushing him. "Wake uuup." Swiss groaned, he'd tried just about everything after a few minutes. Sat on him, shoved him, shouted, the whole spiel. Mountain was just ignoring him, he didn't want to get up when he's so sleepy.

Once Swiss figured that out, he knew the only way to get the earth ghoul up. "Your antler is gonna itch soon if you keep ignoring me." Swiss says, it sounded like a threat. With one particularly annoyed huff, Mountain got up. His eyes weren't even open. "Good morning sleepyhead." Swiss greeted, kissing Mountain on the cheek.

"We only need to clean up, change the bed, and then you can go right back to sleep." Swiss enticed, that did sound very appealing.. By all means he was sweet talking Mountain into actually moving and not hibernating for the rest of the day.

A few more words and then Mountain gave in. "Fine.." He grumbled, opening his eyes. Swiss was beaming once he saw their green hues, "Shower time- Plus I need to clean the scratches and bite, don't want those getting infected." Swiss detailed, sliding off the bed first as he helped Mountain off next.

"As long as my antler comes off today and we get to stay in bed longer.. Then do whatever." Mountain says with a yawn, "My pleasure." Swiss responded with a grin before leading Mountain out of the bright sunroom and into the attached bathroom.

Mountain was surprisingly pliant with everything until they got back into the (fresh) bed and he pulled Swiss into a crushing cuddle. Swiss choked but didn't argue with Mountain, good luck trying to win against him when he's tired and determined on something. Eventually his grip eased down as he felt comfortable knowing Swiss wouldn't leave and started to fall asleep again.

Swiss could finally take a deep breath! Which was useless because he was trapped in bed anyway. Oh well, voluntary circumstance. He cuddled back into Mountain, while he wouldn't go back to sleep he could at least hear Mountain snoring the entire time which was just as good.

Mountain's other antler had finally fallen off later on in the day while he was having lunch, it disturbed Swiss, again. Meanwhile, Mountain was celebrating being antler free for a while. No more itchiness, no more discomfort, and nobody could randomly grab them anymore.

"The stump is bleeding again.." "I told you it's called a pedicle.." "Tomayto, tomahto. Same thing." "It's not-" "Totally is." "No it's not!" The two went back and forth about it for the rest of the day, holding firm in their bottom lines. Mountain eventually folded once Swiss started threatening no cuddles.

Although Swiss still brings the discussion up time to time. Mountain maintains that it's called a pedicle, and Swiss of course just calls it a stump. They'll never actually reach an agreement with it.

End notes: Three words, deer, antlers, and vanilla. That's what my research mainly consisted of for this fic. As far as I'm concerned after reading that much on antlers and deer, Mountain is a deer.

[zegrasdrysdale]

Hi! I wanted to ask if you could write a request for cole caufield! So him and reader are like newly public but have been dating for a couple months, but she’s getting hate on the internet bc her ex is someone who’s famous (idk who lol) but anyways she goes onto like a podcast and talks about how much better of a boyfriend cole was to her than her ex and when she gets home he’s just so in awe of her and the way she feels and speaks about him (I’m so sorry if this didn’t make sense) 😭

[ to love and to be loved ] c. caufield

paring : Cole Caufield x influencer!fem!reader

summary : tired of the hate she's been getting, (Y/N) goes on a podcast to talk about her life, her past relationship, and her new public relationship with Canadians star Cole Caufield

warning(s) : language, mentions of cheating

author’s note : my first time ever writing for cole so pls tell me if i did okay :)

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She didn't know what she thought would happen when she and Cole went public with their relationship a few months after they started dating. There were a few hours where all she saw was support, until her TikToker ex decided to say something about the announcement she and Cole made.

All she sees right now is hate from thousands of people after her ex's comments on his Instagram story. He called her a bitch and said she used him to gain fame and use his money to get what she wanted. He even tagged Cole in a second Instagram story to warn him about her "manipulative ways". His millions of fans agreed with him and have started to flood her feed with hate and negative messages.

She can't even imagine what Cole's comments and DMs look like.

It's been a week since that day, and she's only grown tired of seeing all the hate. She's hasn't spoken out about her ex's accusations about her despite her having more serious accusations about him and his own girlfriend.

As soon as she was invited to go on one of her friends' podcasts, she jumped at the opportunity to speak out about what's been going on. It's time to speak out, and that's the reason her friend invited her on to the podcast.

The set is comfortable. She sits on the couch next to her friend and her friend's podcast partner. A microphone sits in front of her on a stand. A table sits at her feet that holds cups of coffee for the three of them. It's a cozy set up.

"Thank you for inviting me," (Y/N) says to her friend. "I'm sorry Cole wasn't available to come on with me. He flew in this morning from his road trip and has practice today. He didn't want to risk being late to the rink."

Her friend Demi says, "It's not a problem. I understand that he has a busy schedule. Thank you for agreeing to come on."

"It's time I spoke up about this," she tells her friend. "Don't be afraid to ask the hard questions. I'll happily answer any of them."

One of the crew members tells them they're going live in less than a minute. (Y/N) throws her curls behind her shoulder and sits back to get comfortable on the couch.

The same crew member counts down from five before pointing at Demi and her podcast partner. Demi is the one that gives this episode's greeting.

"Welcome back to TikTok Stuff You Should Know," she says into her own microphone. "To my left is Payton, which is not surprising at all because she's glued to my side. Today we have a very special guest joining us. She is a very close friend of mine who has been dealing with a lot of hate recently after launching her relationship online last week. Please welcome (Y/N) (L/N) to the podcast."

Payton looks over at (Y/N) and speaks. "Welcome, (Y/N). We're very happy you're able to join us today."

"Happy to be here."

Demi smiles at her and says, "So, we're all dying to know. How is your relationship with Cole Caufield? How have the two of you been dealing with the past week?"

There it is. Starting out strong.

"Cole has been super supportive of me," she replies. "He's been doing his best in trying to distract me over the past week. I think we've both been trying to stay off social media this week and focus on making sure we're both okay. He's been playing really well recently too, which makes it very easy to distract myself from everything that's been happening on social media. I think he's been using hockey as his own distraction."

Payton nods along as (Y/N) speaks. Demi's eyes are on her. They're both listening to everything she's been saying.

That's only a fraction of what's been happening.

(Y/N) has been in tears almost every night, especially since Cole has been on a roadie for the past four days. The first three days after all hell broke loose were perfect. She laid in Cole's arms every night and woke up next to him every morning. It made the days a lot easier.

Since he left, she's been in tears on FaceTime with him. It hasn't been as easy without him near her. It actually kind of sucks. She didn't even get to see him before she left.

"What made you want to come out about your seemingly new relationship with him?" Payton asks. "Did you think that Ethan would say something about it when you and Cole posted about it?"

She shakes her head. "I always thought Ethan was a really nice guy," she explains. "I certainly didn't expect this out of him. Especially after everything he did throughout our relationship. Cole and I really love each other and we both got tired of hiding that from the public. It was his idea to make out "

"That's an interesting comment," Demi slowly says like she doesn't know what her ex did. "What did Ethan do during your relationship?"

(Y/N) bites her bottom lip for a second. "He cheated on me," she tells the two of them. "All the time at the end of our relationship. Actually, his new girlfriend is just one of the girls he fucked while we were in a relationship. He would have a new girl every weekend and I would look the other way because I loved him."

"It wasn't because you didn't want to lose your constant source of followers and money?" Payton asks. "I'm not taking a shot, by the way. He accused you of using him for fame and money so I just want you to be able to clear the air."

"No, I understand," she replies after being caught off guard by the way the question was worded. "Um, no. I never once used him for followers or money. I made my own money by posting my own content across social media. I stayed with him because I wanted to believe he was a better person and that he could change. I truly loved him and I wanted a future with him. After nearly three months of this, I couldn't do it anymore and I ended things with him."

She notes that Payton looks genuinely surprised by her words. Demi looks annoyed because she and (Y/N) are actually very close friends so she was one of the first people that she told what was going on. She was one of the people that told (Y/N) to end the relationship when Ethan started cheating on her.

"That's crazy," Payton drawls. "Holy shit." She looks over at Demi. "Did you know about all of this?"

"(Y/N) is one of the most genuine people I have ever known," Demi says. "I hated seeing her in that relationship at the end, and I hate that she's being accused of using someone for followers and money. There was a reason she rarely ever posted Ethan on any of her social media. She didn't want to constantly post him because she was afraid to be labeled as a user. She loves creating content and videos. She's so much happier now."

A small smile forms on her lips as she thinks about Cole. She thinks about how he actually loves her and isn't afraid to show it.

"I am so much happier now," she echoes. "I mean, Cole is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He was so patient with me at the beginning of our relationship because I was still healing from my last relationship. He spent so long trying to show me that it's okay to love and be loved by someone that I gave my heart to him. I trust him with my everything, which is not something I would've said this time last year."

Demi smiles at her and Payton mirrors it. "That's so good to hear," Payton says. "Sounds like you caught a good one, (Y/N)."

"I absolutely did," she replies with a smile on her own face. "He is the best boyfriend. I've been so emotional this past week and he has made sure to be there for me the entire time. He checked in on me while he was on the road for the past few games. I am so in love with him, and he helped me believe in love again. I am so grateful for him."

One of the crew members tells them to begin wrapping up. Payton takes over. "Well, thank you for talking with us, (Y/N)," she says. "Where can we find you and Cole?"

"You can find Cole on the ice tomorrow night at seven when he and the Canadians take on the Calgary Flames," she says. "You can find him on social media at colecaufield. You can find me on social media as well at yourusername. Or you can find me somewhere in the stands at Cole's home hockey games."

༺═──────────────═༻

It feels like an eternity since she's been home when she walks into her apartment in downtown Montreal. She shuts the door behind her with a sigh and leans against it.

When she throws her keys in the bowl by the door, she sees Cole's car keys. "Coley?" she calls. "Are you here?"

She walks into the living room to see Cole sitting on the couch. He looks back at her and smiles. "You are freaking amazing, baby," he tells her. "I listened to the podcast on the way home and holy shit. I have never heard anyone talk about me the way you do. I swear I fall in love with you more every single day."

"You listened?" she asks.

Cole stands up with a nod. "To the whole thing," he replies. "I helped you believe in love again?"

"Yeah," (Y/N) breathes out. "You did. You showed me that it's okay to love someone without being afraid they're going to hurt you. I thought that for a long time, Cole. You helped me realize that it's okay to love someone again."

Without realizing it, tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She tries to wipe them away quickly but Cole notices them before she can wipe them away. He walks around the couch to get to her and he envelopes him in a hug. "I'm so proud of you, baby," he whispers in her ear.

She lets out a quiet sob and buries her face in his chest. "I'm so grateful for you," she replies.

"You're so brave for talking about the whole situation," Cole tells her. "I can't believe how well you're handling it. I'm in awe, (Y/N). I wish I had your strength. I wish I could've been there to witness the whole podcast."

"I'm only brave because you're here," she admits as she pulls her face out of his chest. Cole moves his hands to her jaw and his thumbs wipe away more tears that escaped. "I don't know where I'd be if you weren't here. I don't know if I'd even be here if you weren't, Cole."

Cole presses a kiss to her forehead and mumbles, "I love you. More than you'll ever know. You're so strong."

She closes her eyes and whispers, "I love you too."

(Y/N) isn't afraid to say those three words anymore. Not like she was last year. Cole has showed her that she doesn't need to be afraid anymore.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] Sakuya Sakuma | [SSR] Devil Maid’s Reward | Homemade Omurice

Guest A: Everything was once again delicious today.

Guest B: We’ll come again!

Sakuya: Yes, please do come again! Thank you so much!

*Shop bell rings*

Store Manager: Good work, Sakuma-kun.

Sakuya: Good work to you too. Seems like the lunch rush is over.

Store Manager: Yeah, things have finally settled down. You’ve been so busy all day, aren’t you tired?

Sakuya: A bit… But it makes me happy to see so many smiles on the customer’s faces, so I’m totally fine!

Store Manager: Being able to say things like that is what’s so great about you, Sakuma-kun.

Sakuya: Really? Thank you!

Store Manager: Haha, alright, after you clear that table, why don’t you take a break, Sakuma-kun? I made napolitan for the employee meal, so why don’t you have some?

Sakuya: Wait, there’s napolitan today? I’m glad! 

Sakuya: (I can’t wait to have napolitan.) 

Store Manager: If it looks like there won’t be too many more customers today, do you want to try making that one dish again?

Sakuya: Can I really? I’d love that!

Store Manager: You’ve gotten pretty good at making it, so I’m guessing today will be the last day I teach you.

Sakuya: Ahaha, I’ll do my best to make sure that’s the case.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: Good morning, Yuki-kun.

Yuki: Morning. Wait, forget about that. I didn’t know you were still here, Sakuya.

Sakuya: Yeah, I’ve been stretching in the rehearsal room… Are you going out somewhere today, Yuki-kun?

Yuki: I have new clothes I want to make, so I’m staying here.

Sakuya: I see! Can I see them whenever you make them?

Yuki: If I finish them.

Izumi: Ah, Sakuya-kun and Yuki-kun. So you two are still in the dorms.

Sakuya: Us two…?

Yuki: Oh, yeah, it has been awfully quiet today, hasn’t it?

Izumi: Everyone else left this morning, so I guess it’s just us for now.

Sakuya: Huh, really? It’s kinda weird for there to be so few people here.

Izumi: Will you be going to your part-time job today, Sakuya-kun?

Sakuya: Nope, I���m off today.

Izumi: Gotcha, so you’ll be able to take things easy then!

Sakuya: Yeah! I’m thinking of relaxing and reading the play I borrowed from the library later.

Sakuya: …Ah, right. You like omurice, right, Yuki-kun?

Yuki: I do, but why?

Sakuya: I’ve actually been learning how to make omurice at my part-time job recently.

Izumi: When you say at your part-time job, do you mean the Western-style restaurant Hanamura’s?

Sakuya: Yeah!

Yuki: I thought you were a server.

Sakuya: That’s my main job, but sometimes I’d end up in the kitchen doing dishes or something.

Sakuya: And I ended up watching the people in there cook…

Sakuya: After that, the manager started teaching me how to make omurice every once in a while when there weren’t that many customers.

Izumi: So that’s why! That was really nice of the manager to teach you.

Sakuya: Yeah. They’ve been really good to me!

Yuki: …So, what you’re saying is that you know how to make Hanamura’s omurice too.

Sakuya: Yeah, I’ve just finally memorized the recipe and the steps to making it pretty well.

Yuki: Huh, that’s great.

· ❀ —– ٠ ❀ ٠ —– ❀ ·

Yuki: Hanamura’s omurice is pretty good.

Izumi: Yeah, their omurice is good, but so are their other dishes too.

Sakuya: Really!? Thank you.

Yuki: I dunno what you’re saying thank you for, you’re not the one making the dishes.

Sakuya: I also love Hanamura’s food because it’s so delicious, so I was just happy to hear you both say it’s good!

Yuki: Well, I guess I get how you feel. Hanamura’s omurice is pretty top-tier.

Izumi: It’s the kind that’s got chicken rice wrapped in it!

Sakuya: I like the kinda omurice that’s got ketchup on it!

Yuki: That’s the kind where you can write or draw stuff with the ketchup before you eat it. Omurice made the real way like that is no doubt the best, in my opinion.

Yuki: Man, talking about omurice has made me kinda hungry…

Izumi: Ah, it’s already past noon! I didn’t even realize. Alright, let’s find something to eat then.

Izumi: Is there anything you guys want for lunch? If I can make it, I’ll make it, otherwise, I can go out and buy something…

Sakuya: Um, well… If the two of you want, why don’t I make some omurice?

Izumi: Huh, you will, Sakuya-kun?

Sakuya: Yeah. And if we’re missing ingredients, I’ll go out and buy them. What do you guys think?

Izumi: I think we have all the ingredients, but… Are you really sure?

Sakuya: Of course! I mean, I wanted to make it for you, Yuki-kun, since you like omurice, and for you, Director, as thanks for always looking out for me, so…

Izumi: Thank you, I’m glad to hear that.

Yuki: You do know I’m pretty picky about my omurice, right?

Sakuya: I do. That’s why I want you to try omurice made by me…

Yuki: Hmm. Well, I just so happened to have been craving some omurice, so good luck.

Sakuya: Great! I’m gonna make delicious omurice just like from Hanamura’s, so look forward to it!

· ❀ —– ٠ ❀ ٠ —– ❀ ·

Izumi: Alright, Yuki-kun and I will be in the dining room, so just call if you need anything.

Sakuya: Okay, thank you so much!

Sakuya: Alright, time to start cooking. For the ingredients, I need to get out…

Sakuya: Onions, bell peppers, chicken… Ah, and mushrooms. Good thing we’ve got all the ingredients!

Sakuya: First, I need to finely chop the onions…

Sakuya: (This’ll be divided among three people, so I’ll need quite a bit.)

Sakuya: Ueh…

Sakuya: (My eyes are watering… But I’ve gotta power through in order to make some delicious omurice!) 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: I’ve finished cutting up the bell peppers and the mushrooms too, now all that’s left is to cut up the chicken to be the size like how I was taught…

Sakuya: …Alright, I’m finished cutting things up.

Sakuya: Next, I’ve gotta beat the eggs and add a bit of milk and salt to them.

Sakuya: Then I just need to prepare the rice and then… There, everything’s ready to go!

Sakuya: (Time to get started on making some chicken rice! I just need to heat the frying pan, and then add some oil…)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Pan sizzling*

Sakuya: (...And now the chicken rice is complete! Good thing I was able to follow the recipe.)

Izumi: It’s starting to smell good.

Yuki: Seems pretty promising.

Sakuya: (I’m glad they’re both looking forward to it.)

Sakuya: It’s almost ready, so you’ll only have to wait for a bit longer!

Izumi: Feel free to take your time!

Yuki: I don’t want you screwing it up.

Sakuya: (All I’ve gotta do is cook the eggs, and then add the chicken rice before rolling it up.)

Sakuya: (But the cooking conditions are pretty tricky, so I’ve gotta adjust things and then shape them, so here’s where I’ve gotta really focus in…!)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: The omurice is done! It got kinda misshapen, but…

Izumi: Wow, it looks so good!

Yuki: Well, it looks good enough, at least.

Sakuya: I brought ketchup, so you can put it on however you’d like.

Yuki: Alright, I wanna draw something, so I’ll use it first. I’ve just gotta do something like this, and…

Izumi: That’s Yurukuma!

Yuki: Bingo.

Sakuya: Whoa, that’s really good! I wanna try drawing something like you did too.

Yuki: Okay, here’s the ketchup.

Sakuya: Thanks. I think I’ll draw some kinda animal too. Okay, first I’ll do the outline…

*Ketchup splashes out*

Sakuya: Uwhoa!?

Izumi: That came out so forcefully…!?

Yuki: Now, what exactly compelled you to strangle it? Your omurice is practically drowning in ketchup.

Sakuya: I was gonna try drawing something… Well, I guess I can’t draw anything anymore.

Yuki: You’d probably be able to do it if you actually do it right, but… It’d still be hard.

Sakuya: Yeah…

Izumi: Ah, then do you wanna swap with my omurice? There hasn’t been any ketchup put on it yet, so you can draw on it!

Sakuya: Huh!? But this one’s smothered in ketchup, I can’t let you eat that, Director…

Izumi: It’s fine, it’ll taste the same! Here, we’ll switch.

Sakuya: …Ah, then we don’t have to switch. Why don’t I just draw something on your omurice, Director? 

Izumi: Are you sure?

Sakuya: I’m sure! Like you said, it’ll taste the same, so I can just eat mine.

Izumi: Gotcha. Well, if you’re sure about it, then feel free to go ahead, Sakuya-kun!

Sakuya: Thank you so much!

Sakuya: (This time I’ve gotta be careful…)

Sakuya: …

Sakuya: …Done!

Yuki: Huh, that’s not half bad.

Sakuya: Really? It makes me happy to be praised by you like that, Yuki-kun.

Izumi: Is this a drawing of a cat, Sakuya-kun?

Sakuya: Ah, yeah! I’m glad you were able to tell.

Izumi: Hehe, it’s cute!

Yuki: Now that we’re done with the ketchup, let’s hurry up and eat. Th: e omurice is gonna get cold.

Sakuya: Right, let’s eat!

Sakuya & Yuki: Let’s eat.

Izumi: Let’s eat!

Izumi: Ah, it’s really good! It’s just like Hanamura’s omurice.

Yuki: Yeah, it seems like you followed the recipe perfectly.

Sakuya: I couldn’t afford to screw it up knowing that you two would be eating it…

Izumi: Hehe, I appreciate it. It’s thanks to that that it tastes so good!

Izumi: Ah, right. You’ve still got quite a bit of ketchup there, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: You’re right…

Izumi: Can I use some of it then?

Yuki: Ah, I’ll take some too.

Sakuya: Sure, here you go!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Yuki: Ahh, I’m stuffed.

Izumi: Hehe, same here. That was really good.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Choose!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 1: Thanks for the delicious omurice.

Izumi: Thank you for the omurice, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: You’re welcome. But I also have to thank you for eating it!

Izumi: Even if you follow a recipe exactly, it’s hard to make a dish the same way it’s made at a restaurant because stuff like heat and other things can cause even minor changes.

Izumi: It was really good! Just like what you’d eat at a restaurant! I could really tell that you practiced a lot, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: Ehehe, I’m happy to hear you say that!

Option 2: That was a luxurious lunch.

Izumi: That was a luxurious lunch we had today.

Yuki: It really was just like Hanamura’s omurice.

Sakuya: But it was shaped kinda wonky, and I messed up with the ketchup drawing…

Izumi: But it still tasted really good, so it’s okay!

Izumi: Plus, the picture you drew on my omurice was really cute.

Sakuya: Ehehe, thank you so much.

Sakuya: It really is fun to cook when there’s someone there to eat it!

Yuki: I’m expecting to get some nicely shaped omurice next time you make it.

Sakuya: Yeah, I’ll work hard to make sure the omurice is perfectly shaped next time!

Yuki: When that happens, I’ll draw something cute on your omurice, Sakuya.

Sakuya: Really? I’m glad. Well, I’ll look forward to that!

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 42 (Toddler Birthday Time!)

Heather threw a party at home for Ash's second birthday. But she helped him blow out the candles before guests arrived, because she didn't want anyone to take a slice before she could put candles on it!

To her disappointment, her family in Henford cancelled at the last minute. Cassandra had gone into labour and they all went with her to the hospital, but Heather had hoped to finally introduce them to Conrad.

Despite this, she focused on the guests who could make it. Holly and Kris came from San Myshuno with Mortimer and Uncle Karl, the Landgraabs showed up to celebrate, and Conrad, too.

"Conrad? What are you doing here?" wondered Malcolm. "I thought we agreed we weren't pressing charges."

The detective masked a smile. "Right. Well...Heather and I have been dating a few months now," he said.

Malcolm cocked his head sideways in surprise. "Heather didn't mention you."

"I've gathered there's a lot you two don't tell each other."

Malcolm considered this new information and raised an eyebrow. "I haven't spoken to you in over sixteen years. You show up practically out of the blue months ago to interfere in a criminal case and now you're dating my son's mother?" Conrad froze. "Sounds a little like professional misconduct, Detective."

Conrad felt his hands shake, but Malcolm's stern face melted into laughter. "I'm just joking with you, but you should see your face! I think it's cool."

Conrad wouldn't take Malcolm Landgraab simply at his word. "You're sure?"

"Yes! Seriously. Heather and I are trying to make peace and you've got a lot more in common with her than I ever did. And now I know who my son was talking about when he said his new friend was Conedd Play! He likes you, so I trust you around my son. And with that, I give you my blessing."

"That means a lot, Malcolm. Thank you."

As the party continued, Nancy found her son upstairs. "We should leave soon. Heather's sister won't stop talking about fish and she keeps trying to make me eat cake. But your father told me the news!"

Malcolm looked at his mother, confused.

"Heather and Conrad are together! Our lawyer could put her away on a technicality because she slept with the investigating detective!"

"You're not going to do that."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to."

"Malcolm, you don't know what you want."

"Like hell I don't! You just never stop to listen. I want you to stop your vendetta against Heather. You're not going to get San Myshuno PD to reopen the case, because if you're a danger to my son's mother, you're a danger to my son! That's your grandson - the one you want to run your company one day, remember?" Nancy scowled. "So she bested you in business and guessed your stupid password! She's a small business owner and you're a wealthy CEO. Get over it."

Malcolm's father, Geoffrey, had been listening nearby. "Your son's right, Nancy. Ash is more important than your pride. He's your legacy and you know it's true. You went to the salon this morning because you wanted to show Ash that Landgraabs always look their best. Heather invited you here for his birthday even though she didn't have to put up with you. You owe her better than this."

Nancy stuttered as her precious son and dutiful husband finally told her off, and Heather hid a satisfied smile when she left pouting. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[kteezy997]

Daddy’s Boy- Part Ten

Warnings: mention of sex, cum, and impregnating, otherwise just lots of fluff!

two years later

It was finally here. The week of your wedding to the love of your life. You were officially going to be Timothee's wife and share the same last name as your son. This was a time that you thought only dreams were made of.

You had been showered with gifts and hugs and sweet wishes from family and friends. Your soon to be mother and sister-in-law threw your bridal shower. It was a beautiful day, though it was strange to have the party be all about you. You were used to spending your days working and hanging out with Theo and Timmy, which you loved, but it was special to be treated like such a princess by all the women in your life.

Your bachelorette party was another rarity for you: a night out on a party bus with all of your friends, drinking and dancing the night away like some college kids. It was a lot of fun, but you were even happier to see Timmy when he picked you up at a random bar at the end of it all, at nearly two in the morning. His parents had graciously agreed to keep Theo overnight so Timmy could collect you after the party bus. You ran to your fiancé and leaped into his arms, ready to go home and fall asleep under the covers with him.

That night, he helped you get out of your dress and into your cozy pajamas as well as taking your makeup off for you. You were too drunk and silly to do it yourself.

"Hold still, y/n, I can't get it all if you don't stay still." he'd say, wiping your eye with a cotton pad as you giggled.

When you finally go into bed, you snuggled up with the blankets, closed your eyes and felt his lips kiss your forehead.

"I'm glad you had a good time tonight, baby." Timmy cooed.

……

Your wedding itself was set to be big and beautiful, but still somewhat private, as private as the wedding of an A-List actor could be. There would one hundred guests, but your wedding party was small. The most important thing to you and Timmy was to have your family and closest friends there. It wasn't a social event for paparazzi to find or for other celebrities to show off their designer dresses and suits.

Theo was probably the most excited that his parents were going to be married. You were already a family, but the wedding was a time to celebrate it being official. And Theo figured this was the next step towards getting a new sibling. He wanted a little brother or sister to play with and look after so badly.

As the big day drew closer, you started to feel different. You were nauseous at times, and your breasts started to hurt. With all the planning and excitement of the wedding going on, you didn't pay much attention to how you were feeling. But you finally realized that you hadn't had a period in two or three months.

You didn't want to cause a fuss with Timmy and Theo, just in case you weren't actually pregnant. You didn't want them to get excited over nothing. You wanted to find out for yourself. Because maybe it was just a fluke, maybe your stress level had messed up your hormones instead of a pregnancy.

The boys were busy playing video games, so you ordered a few different pregnancy tests from CVS Pharmacy online and had them delivered to your door.

..........

That night after Theo had gone to bed, you told Timmy to come into the bedroom. You waited for him, and he had a silly grin on his face when he walked in.

"Baby, what's going on?" he smirked, tilting his head as he looked at you.

You were nervous, not because of his reaction, but because of the news being so close to the wedding. Everything was all mushed together and there was just such a feeling of unknown, which was scary.

"Come here, sit down." you said to him, gesturing toward the bed.

Timmy did as you told him to do, biting his lip as he sat down and said, "Is it sexy time, my love?" He put his arms out to you.

You let him softly grab you and pull you close. You petted his hair, smoothing it back as he gazed up at you lovingly. "Well, I wanted to give you something first." you said. You hoped that your nerves weren't causing you to shake or tremble to the point of him noticing. You really didn't want him to worry about you.

"Oh, you don't have to get me anything. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted. I love you so much, y/n.” he smiled wider, “I can’t wait for you to be wife." he replied, hugging you tighter.

"I got you something anyway." you backed away from his embrace, "Um, close your eyes and hold out your hands." You watched him as he followed your instructions. Though he had his eyes closed, he still kept a look of bewilderment on his face.

"Should I be scared?" he asked as you had walked away to pick up one of the pregnancy tests from the en-suite bathroom.

You giggled, "No, I don't think so." You walked back over to him, placing the stick onto his palms. "Okay, look now."

Timmy opened his eyes, squinted at the pregnancy test in his hands. You watched him as he read the small print on it, which read, “pregnant.”

He looked up at you, wide eyed. He took a deep breath and shuddered softly; you could see a glimpse of fear in his eyes. After the initial reaction, he stood and grabbed you, hugging you tightly. He whispered in your ear, "My love, we’re gonna have another baby. I'm so happy, I could just hold you forever."

You ran your hands up his back, squeezing him back affectionately. "Oh, please do. I love you, baby." you cooed. As you pulled away from the hug, you put your hands on his cheeks, "Are you okay? It's normal to be nervous." you said, looking in his eyes, trying to gauge his mental state.

Timmy let out a little sigh, nodding. But he looked down at your stomach, placing his hand on you there.

You felt an instant warmth from his touch, and somehow in that very moment, you knew that everything was going to be okay. It would be more than okay, it would be perfect, your own kind of perfect.

"Our second child, I can't believe it." he said lowly, rubbing his palm over your tummy. "Well," he looked at you with the smirk you knew all too well, "I can believe it, but still, this is such a crazy feeling, babe." He then pressed his forehead to yours.

You saw his bottom lip quiver ever so slightly, then a single tear fell from his eye. "Aw, my sweet boy." you wiped his tear, "Don't worry. You're an amazing father. This baby will love you and obsess over you just like Theo does." You kissed Timmy's cheek for reassurance.

"I know, I know we'll be fine. It's just," he looked down at the ground, "I feel like since I met Theo when he was three, that was kind of an easy age, you know? But a baby is totally different, like there's so many ways to screw it up."

You put your fingers under his chin, forcing him to look in your eyes. "Don't think like that. I don't believe that there is such a thing as an "easy age" when it comes to raising kids. It's all hard, and we will both screw up, but it will be worth it. You're going to be wonderful with this baby."

Timmy smiled softly, kissed you, then said, "That you babe, you always know how to make me feel better. Theo is gonna freak out! We have to go tell him." he grabbed your hand, trying to pull you out of the bedroom.

"No, no!" you squeezed his hand but kept your feet planted though he was pulling you. "He's in bed and it's still really early in the pregnancy. We have plenty of time to tell him." you insisted.

"Okay, you're right." he said, calming himself. "Should we wait until after the wedding to tell him?"

"Yeah, I think so. I love him, but I don't trust him to keep it to himself." you giggled.

"Yeah, he'll be too excited, he'd have to tell someone." he grinned, pulling you into him again. "Hmm, I wonder if it happened on Valentine's Day. We really went all out that night." He leaned in, nuzzling his nose onto yours.

You laughed, "That's definitely possible. But I mean, you don't like wearing condoms, so it really could have happened anytime."

Timmy hummed, put his head down into your chest. He started to kiss your neck. "You make a good point." He spoke in between kisses. "You like that I put another baby in you? You like that my cum is gonna make you so big and round and pretty."

He was practically purring as the words danced into your ears. You grew weak in his arms. "Yes, I'll have as many babies as you want, Timmy."

He suckled on your throat, stopping briefly to say, "Oh, don't worry, I plan on getting you pregnant again and again and again. The world will know how good I fuck you."

You felt his lips on your skin as they turned up into a grin. You giggled, putting your arms around your man. Your feet left the ground for a moment as Timmy picked you up and took you over to the bed.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie

[neiptune]

call it what you want

part 2 of dazzling haze, mysterious way

(eren x female reader) college au, enemies to lovers

wc: 8k+ lmao

warnings: cursing, alcohol, suggestive

Sure, you've babysitted his little sister for one afternoon, but Eren doesn't expect you to actually show up at the nye party he's impulsively invited you to. Not one thing about that night he was able to predict

“Didn’t you say this was going to be a low-profile thing?”

Connie snorts, taking a step back to admire the order of the bottles placed on the kitchen counter for a second, only to disrupt it and rearrange them completely.

“You always force me to lie” is his casual reply. Armin sighs, irritated.

“I just wanted to keep it chill for once. And, ideally, not wake up in a puddle of your vomit”

Jean chuckles at that and lands a not so gentle pat on his friend’s back.

“Cheer up, ‘Min. I’ll take care of that for once”

“And who’ll take care of you?”

“Our lover boy, of course” Jean sneaks behind one of his best friends, who’s sitting on the counter right next to the bottles, feet dangling nervously and phone in his hand.

“The fuck—” Eren gasps when two hands painfully squeeze his shoulders and not so gently shake him twice.

“Are you gonna tell us? ‘Cause if you keep staring at that screen, you’re gonna burn a hole in it”

“There’s nothing to tell, get off me” he slaps Jean’s hands away with a glare that only makes his friend laugh harder.

“Can’t remember the last time you had a crush” Connie grins, finally satisfied with the order of the bottles and ready to engage in the next activity that requires his undivided attention: annoying the shit outta Eren.

“I don’t have a crush”

“So you just wanna fuck her?”

“I’m sorry, when did I give you the impression that this was any of your business?”

Jean hums solemnly. “He’s getting defensive. Definitely a crush”

“Y’know, I heard Mikasa may come tonight” Armin casually takes another sip from the cup of tea he’s holding in his hands. Jean’s reaction is immediate, eyes like saucers as he runs to him and what, how do you know, where did you hear roll off his tongue in rapid succession. Eren shoots Armin a grateful look and seizes the opportunity to get off the counter and out of the kitchen. The guest bathroom is the only place where no one, not even Connie and his narrowed gaze will follow, and he needs a second to collect his thoughts.

He remembers the day Connie’s mom had ordered the pink microfiber toiled lid cover he now sits on, because he was there that afternoon and she had specifically asked for his opinion about it. As he unlocks his phone and taps on the cracked screen to open his instagram directs again, teeth mercilessly dig into his lower lip when he reads the same thing he’s been reading over and over again under the only message he has sent you.

Seen 18h ago.

To be absolutely fair, you never promised anything and he had barely mustered the courage to do something as trivial as following you on social media the day after christmas. It took you eight hours to follow him back but still, you did. He liked the story showcasing your brother unwrapping his gift but you didn’t like his story back, the one displaying Gabi carrying around her brand new speaker while blasting love story by Taylor Swift at full volume around the living room.

He shouldn’t expect a reply, after all. His message merely consists of Connie’s address followed by a just in case you change your mind. Still, as Eren leans back and rests his head against the cold, marble tiles, he can’t help but close his eyes and replay the stupid scene in his head once more. How your name had slipped past his lips for the second time that day, the casual question and the puzzled look on your face. Your I’ll stay home with my family, I don’t love parties. The pathetic disappointment crawling all the way up to his stomach as he mumbled a fair enough. Goodnight, then.

“This is fucking ridiculous” he mutters to himself, lightly bumping his head on the tiles behind him. So what if you don’t reply, if you don’t come? You don’t even like him, don’t even bother hiding the fact that you find him unpleasant to be around. He remembers how tense you were in his car, the way you could barely bring yourself to look at him, always facing the other way, a look so flat as you grumbled you seem like the type of person to do that, get away with things.

Eren conveniently erases everything else from his memory. Your smile, the jokes, an airy laugh, you’re good with kids and at drawing too, hardly held back giggles as he handed back his finished drawing, how your hands looked while slicing up ingredients and you seemed to belong in his kitchen, on his couch, at his table. The way he had shortly wondered how it would feel to lift you up on the same marble counter you were working on, jeans pulled all the way down to your ankles, legs looped over his shoulders as he crouched down, never breaking eye contact, fingers tangling in his hair tugging tugging tugging against the strands hard enough to make him groan-

“Okay, no” he grumbles, shutting his eyes again. The issue here is clearly coming from his groin, Connie and his bet be damned. It’s not that there’s anything special about you or wrong with him for caring so much about a stupid text, it’s just plain, ordinary sexual frustration. You’re a stuck-up tutor girl who accidentally happens to also be oddly attractive and nice to kids, s’all. It’s not like he doesn’t have any other options.

Eren unlocks his phone again, this time tapping on Wildcats, his basketball team group chat. A few seniors are part of the team as well, which always comes in handy when throwing parties.

(Eren, 3:56 pm) who’s coming tonight? Connie’s, 9pm

(Erwin, 3:57 pm) hard pass, I can only have him throw up on me so many times

(Niccolo, 3:58 pm) lmao

(Niccolo, 3:58 pm) I feel brave, I’ll come and bring food

(Bert, 3:58 pm) Reiner has to pick annie up so we might be late

(Eren, 3:59 pm) just be here before everyone’s too wasted to open the door

(Marco, 3:59 pm) @Eren can jean give me a ride?

(Eren, 4:01 pm) he will if you lie and tell him mikasa is coming with you

(Colt, 4:02 pm) holy shit, he’s still on that?

(Floch, 4:04 pm) sorry guys, already made plans

(Porco, 4:04 pm) I’ll be there just fucking stop spamming this chat

(Niccolo, 4:04 pm) @Floch you finally getting laid?

(Eren, 4:05 pm) be useful for once in your life and bring pieck @Porco

(Porco, 4:06 pm) eat shit yeager, stop sticking it in my sister

(Eren, 4:06 pm) she didn’t mind last time I checked

(Niccolo, 4:07 pm) king shit

(Porco, 4:07 pm) @Eren you’re repulsive

(Eren, 4:07 pm) don’t be late buddy

Eren smirks as he gets up and slips his phone, promptly put on silent, in the back pocket of his black jeans. He feels better, definitely closer to getting his shit together, your features slowly blurring out in the corners of his mind. As if.

“Are you taking a shit in there, man? I swear if you’re sending nudes from my goddamn bathroom—” Connie’s brutal knocks make him jump and he’s quick to open the door only to be met with a killer glare.

“Can’t even jerk off in peace” Eren mutters, theatrically wiping one of his hands on his jeans as he passes his horrified friend by.

As he gets back in the kitchen and hops on the counter, he’s finally more present and actually updates his friends on the new guests he had just invited, much to Armin’s annoyance. They’ll spend the afternoon playing call of duty, filling out bowls with snacks and then they’ll order enough pizza for an army as soon as the first guests start showing up.

Armin suspiciously eyes his best friend as he throws his head back in laughter at Connie’s expression when Jean voices his predictions on how many people will get drunk enough to jump naked in the jacuzzi sitting outside in the garden. Something has shifted and it’s too early for him to tell if it’s for better or for worse, still, he hopes it’s not one of those times when Eren screws everything up for himself without even realizing it.

Armin’s the only person who knows about you and the afternoon spent at his house, the fact that he had invited you to the party and has been nervously waiting for a response for an entire day. By now he’s known Eren for enough years to sense that nothing good would come from the sudden spike in energy he’s witnessing. Especially because all at once he seems too focused on Connie and Jean jokingly wrestling by the sink to notice how the screen of his phone, now sitting on the counter right next to his thigh, lights up.

You shuffle nervously in the backseat for the nth time and there’s no need to peer at the designated driver to guess that she’s rolling her eyes once more.

“You okay?” Christa turns to look at you from the passenger seat, worried frown barely twisting her delicate features.

“She’s fine” Ymir mutters under her breath, making your eyebrow twitch.

“I’ve been better” you grumble between gritted teeth and she huffs out a laugh.

“Better? As in wearing sweatpants and watching it’s a wonderful life with your dad while choking down jumbo blueberry pop tarts better?”

“Remind me why we’re even going to this stupid party?” you conveniently ignore the mean words directed your way and keep doing what you do best: pout and complain until Ymir is so exhausted she has to drop the mean act and actually feel bad for what she’s putting you through.

“Because we had no other plans, one of our new year’s resolutions was to try new things and you look hot in that dress”

You narrow your eyes as Mikasa, sitting next to you, chuckles.

“Do not lie to my face, you’re just happy you get to drink for free”

She shrugs and you groan.

“Maybe we’re gonna have fun” Mikasa timidly suggests and you direct a skeptical look her way.

“I’m just happy I get to spend the night with my best friends” she adds, gently nudging you with her shoulder.

“Oh don’t mind her, she’s just annoyed Eren Yeager turns her on” Ymir’s comment earns her the lightest slap on her leg from her girlfriend.

“I think I just barfed in my mouth a bit” your nose scrunches up in fake disgust.

Liar, Mikasa mouths and your knee bumps aganinst hers. Shut up, you mouth back.

When you had first told them the Eren Yeager had invited you to a party, their eyes had nearly popped out of their heads. You had to go through the entire day spent at his house, patiently explain that nothing had nor could’ve happened, carefully leave out any reference to the warmth of his chest pressing on your back whilst making dinner or the goosebumps you got from the feeling of his fingers under the collar of your jacket.

He’s hot and you’re a woman, no need to make a fuss about it. You’re allowed to admit how attractive he is, even if you can’t stand him. Even if you couldn’t believe he had actually followed you on instagram, the notification popping on your screen nearly giving you a heart attack. He has over 8k followers, barely any pictures (most recent one is from six months ago, depicts who you can only guess is one of his friends from behind, sitting on the hood of a car and wearing a black hoodie with a white writing that says get off my dick), but shares stories regularly and reposts stupid videos downloaded from tiktok.

Your friends had forced you to get out of your white sweatpants, wear the damn black sequin dress jacket and actually get out of your comfort zone for once. You’re not going for him, you’re going for yourself. You want to indulge in some fun, do something different, let go for once. It’s not going to be that bad, right? It doesn’t mean anything, that he’s invited you to the party. It doesn’t mean anything, that you’re going. Besides, Armin is probably going to be there, a prospect that soothes you.

As you get out of the car ever so carefully (it’s been a minute since you’ve last worn 6 inch heels), you watch as your friends do the same, Mikasa and Christa holding the paper bags with the wine bottles you have brought as a gift. Ymir pulls out her key fob from the pocket of her coat and the familiar chirp of her car’s locking mechanism echoes in a night that would be quiet if it weren’t for the loud, banging music coming from the villa at the end of the driveway.

Ymir casually throws an arm around your shoulders and lightly squeezes you against her for a second.

“If you feel uncomfortable at any moment tell me and I’ll kick ass” she whispers in your ear, managing to make you smile. They all look so nice. Mikasa with her black jumpsuit, Christa with her navy lace dress, Ymir absolutely rocking that burgundy flare pant suit.

It’s gonna be alright, you decide, as you all walk up to Connie’s front door and gingerly ring the doorbell. The door swings open in a second, making you slightly wince, and you recognize one of Eren’s friends right away.

“Hi, Jean” Mikasa smiles and the tips of his ears become pink.

Right, you remember, they know each other. They were assigned to the same group project last semester and they had hit it off, something you really don’t understand because every time you’ve seen Jean around campus he’s always been quite loud, obnoxiously jumping on Eren’s back or lying on the grass with one hand behind his head, eyes closed with Armin unsuccessfully trying to wake him up by slamming a notebook on his forehead. But when Mikasa is around he becomes quiet, almost shy, attentive with words and gestures. She finds it adorable and you do too: must be nice having someone who turns into the best version of themselves just for you.

“Mikasa! I’m so happy you made it! I mean— that you all made it” his gaze flickers to you for a second, then he steps aside, allowing you to get in.

Christa has to turn her head to hide her smile as he offers to take off Mikasa’s coat and is then forced to collect everyone else’s as well. Arms full, Jean leads the way to the living room, where everyone is, and indicates the kitchen with a struggled motion of a hand.

“Help yourselves to anything, I’ll be right back!” he smiles to Mikasa one last time before quickly leaving the room, headed upstairs.

You nervously look around, relieved as you take note that almost no one has noticed your arrival. However, Connie Springer, the host himself, comes out of the kitchen and instantly opens his arms in a welcoming gesture as he approaches your little group.

“Girls, hello! What can I get ya?” his smile is wide and genuine so you can’t help but mirror it.

“Thanks for inviting us. We brought these” Christa gently offers the paper bag in her hand and Mikasa does the same. Connie promptly accepts them with a small bow.

“Ah, you didn’t need to. I’m sure we’ve seen each other around campus but it’s nice to officially meet y’all, I’m Connie!” his grin is so infectious even Ymir cracks a small smile. As introductions are made, she asks if mixology is allowed and his eyes glow with genuine excitement as he asks her to follow him to the kitchen. She looks at Christa to silently ask if she’d be alright and she squeezes her hand twice with a smile and a small nod.

“Ohmygosh, hi!” you stumble as you suddenly find yourself wrapped in an tight embrace, with a high pitched voice ringing in your ears. You pull back just enough to be met with a pair of big, familiar and currently quite clouded eyes.

“Sasha!” you smile and hug her back, as an attempt to both reciprocate her affection and keep her steady on her feet.

“I didn’t know you knew these maniacs! M’so happy you’re here!” she kisses you on the cheeks and you giggle, catiously untangling yourself from her arms as Mikasa’s hands ghost over her shoulders, just in case.

“Girls, this is Sasha, we have the same major. Hey, are you okay? Do you need some wat—” Sasha literally throws herself over to your friends, hugging them both at the same time and chanting about how delighted she is to meet such beautiful women on such a fine night. You’re still laughing when your gaze casually meets a familiar one that has your insides twisting. There’s a girl sitting on the couch next to him, so close her thigh is basically flush against his, and some guy with blond hair is talking to him. But Eren Yeager is looking at you, eyes boring into yours as he slowly gets up and leaves the beer bottle he was holding on the coffee table. The dark haired girl looks displeased by her leg being left suddenly cold.

It’s embarrassing, really, how fast your heart is beating as he makes his way through his other friends to approach you, sage eyes never leaving yours, as if he can’t quite believe you’re actually standing there. You can’t quite believe it yourself, to be honest.

“You came” the blunt, almost breathed out observation serves as a greeting and you give him a coy smile, one that, paired with the outfit you’re wearing, is almost enough to shatter all the progress he feels like he’s made throughout the afternoon.

“My friends insisted and I thought it might be fun after all” your shoulders shrug out of a weird, awkward rigidity.

“So, polemic and skeptical” he can’t help but crack a smile.

It’s infuriating, really, how good he looks in just a pair of black jeans, a white shirt and some consumed dr martens. His hair is left down for a change and you feel the sudden urge to tuck the strands framing his face behind his ears.

“Can I get you anything?” Eren clears his throat and you blink as you realize you’ve been staring, letting the silence stretch way past a reasonable interval. Damn it.

“Uh, sure. Yeah. A beer?” he has to fight back another smile at your quizzical tone.

“You got it”

But the opportunity to get you a drink is taken from him as a heavy hand lands on his back, the blond guy with an undercut from before materializing next to him and offering you his hand.

“Hey, I don’t believe we met. I’m Porco” he smiles as his grey eyes light up. Uncertain, you smile back and introduce yourself, squeezing his hand. He turns to Eren, who is glaring at him in a way that makes you think he’s trying to burn a whole in his forehead.

“You can’t keep all the pretty ones to yourself, man. My sister’s waiting for you, remember?” Porco grins and squeezes his shoulder one last time before looking back at you. “We’re missing some players for beer pong. You girls wanna join in?”

“Yes!”, Sasha hollers and you turn around to find her squeezed between your friends, who are doing their best to keep her from collapsing on the floor.

“You’ve played enough, Sash” Christa chuckles at her pout. She offers to sit with her and cheer for your team in case you want to play and a newfound confidence warms your chest as you turn back to look at Porco. He’s good looking, seems nice and you’re there to have fun. To experiment. He doesn’t look like a bad place to start experimenting from and, most importantly, no one’s sister’s waiting for him.

“Me and Mikasa will play. Get yourself a good team” you smile and the pleased laugh he lets out heats up your cheeks. Eren, who hasn’t looked away from you once, wishes he still had that beer bottle tucked between his fingers to hold onto.

Letting go is fun, you decide.

You, Mikasa, Jean and Annie, some girl you had hit it off with right away, ended up winning against Porco’s beer pong team and they were all forced to pass around a cup filled with scotch whisky (singleton of dufftown, 54 year old, single malt) to honor the bet you had previously agreed to.

Throughout the entire night, both you and your friends have easily warmed up to the other guests. Ymir’s drinks became an instant success and she is happy to sit down and discuss different mixology methods with Annie, Connie and Jean, although you suspect the latter is just joining the conversation because he gets to sit next to Mikasa. Sasha’s had some water and a slice of pizza, so by now she’s feeling good enough to excitedly guide Christa and some guy named Niccolo through the best things she got to eat over the holidays and the topic she’s thinking of centering her senior thesis presentation around. You’ve been mostly standing in the kitchen, because it’s fairly quieter than the dining room, comfortably leaning against the wooden table to chat with Armin, Porco and some nice guy named Marco.

You’ve had two beers so far, not enough to get you drunk but a decent help nonetheless. You’re relaxed enough to have a friendly, far from awkward conversation with guys you have barely just met, laid back enough not to remove one of their arms from around your waist as you ask Armin about the new students he’s offered to tutor for the new semester, unbothered enough not to replay the scene of Eren Yeager sitting in a corner of the dining room lazily making out with couch girl in your head. It’s perfectly normal, it’s what he does. And it doesn’t faze you, the fact that he hasn’t talked to you all night. He’s invited you to a party only to ignore your very presence at said party. Normal. What he does. Again, not fazing you.

When Marco and Porco excuse themselves to take a short smoke break, the latter gently squeezing your hip before leaving the room, Armin clears his throat in a way he hopes sounds natural enough.

“So” he casually swings his cup filled with jungle juice, the orangy liquid dangerously swooshing around the red plastic “you babysit, huh?”

Oh no.

“Not often” is your cautious reply.

His blue eyes bore into yours. “I heard you’re great”

You hum, pensive, leaning against the table a little more. “I try. Most of the time s'just an excuse to watch disney movies”

He slightly pushes his lower lip forward, giving his cup another swing. “Heard you’re also good at cooking”

With a sigh, you surrender. “Armin, just get to the p—”

“I think he likes you”

Trying your best not to choke on your own spit, you blankly stare at him waiting for a hah, you totally fell for that. But it never comes. Armin just keeps staring back at you.

“You’re drunk” you state matter-of-factly, to which he finally cracks a smile.

“This is my first drink of the evening”

“I see. You’re just insane, then”

“Is it really so hard to believe?”

You frown. “What? That your friend, currently sitting in the other room with someone else’s tongue shoved down his throat, likes me? M'gonna have to say yes”

Armin scoffs. “You’re too smart to let his dumb act fool you”

Your ears start ringing as a result of your body heating up at an alarming speed, increased blood flow and everything. There’s really no point in arguing with him because you can feel your insides twisting once more. Desperate times call for desperate measures so you grab a clearly used cup from the table behind you and down its content, some amber-colored liquid that pleasantly burns your throat and explodes like fireworks in your chest. It’s Armin’s turn to frown at the fact that, clearly, you are letting Eren’s dumb act fool you. But if you are, it means there’s a chance you’re not as indifferent as you want him to believe. Which, finally, gives Armin something to work with.

“Listen…” he almost whispers, one hand gently grazing your arm, but Connie suddenly bursts into the kitchen, whining (more like slurring) about you missing all the fun as he grabs you both by the wrist and quite literally drags you out of the room. Armin decides to empty his cup in one go instead of risking to spill the drink on his light blue shirt and the way his nose wrinkles in distaste makes you giggle.

Someone has dimmed the lights to the point where you can barely see your feet as you stumble behind your abductor and now the beat blasting from the speakers connected to god knows whose laptop makes it impossible to hear anything else. All furniture has been pushed to the sides of the room, which now looks like a temporary but not least frenzied dancefloor.

“Connie, I don’t—” you attempt to free yourself but he only drags you more energetically towards the mass of bodies clashed together and yet still managing to take up the whole space in what's a definitely not narrow room. Your alarmed gaze meets Armin’s resigned one but you soon lose sight of him as someone else grabs you by the arm and pulls you right in so violently your bodies collide and you almost tumble on the floor.

“Sasha!” you groan in a faint attempt to escape her grabby hands, but she just shakes her head and yells an excited dance with me! right to your ear, making you wince.

Soon, however, your brain is saturated enough with the sweet liquor you’ve downed in the kitchen for your body to move on its own accord. Maybe tomorrow you’ll remember why you never mix when drinking, and possibly curse Ymir for sharing a video of you clumsily jumping around with Sasha and Connie on her instagram stories, but right now, this very moment, feels glorious.

You’re unaware of your surroundings and so deliciously ignited by a newfound boldness, there’s really no time to think or wonder or notice one of the very few people who aren’t dancing, leaning against the door frame and unable to cast his eyes away from your figure, discernible to him even amidst the throng of bodies taking up the makeshift dancefloor. It’s a fun sight, really, you arm in arm with two of his closest friends, Connie suddenly breaking free to gracelessly twirl both you and Sasha at the same time. She ends up colliding with Armin’s back and grabs him by the hand, yelling something right to his ear as she forces him to keep up with her moves, absolutely oblivious to the grumpiness sharpening Niccolo’s features. You’re having a good time, it seems, and it’s amusing how you jump around on those hellish heels when one of the most iconic (according to whoever lacks basic music taste, he believes) pop hits of the early 2000s comes up. The beat is so deafening Eren can’t hear himself think, which is a good thing, especially after the extra ten minutes he’s spent in the garden freezing his ass off following the annoying-to-a-whole-new-degree conversation he’s had with one of his teammates, who had casually offered him a cigarette after bumping into him on his way out with Marco.

So smart. Yeah.

She can keep up. He knows.

Holy shit. And she gets to be beautiful too. Accurate.

It’s fun, getting to look at you as you accidentally bump into Reiner and start apologizing at the top of your lungs, a loud, unbroken string of oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay, oh my god, I’m really sorry, that have him and Bert look at each other and erupt in laughter. It’s fun, until it’s not. Porco is laughing too as he gently grabs you by the waist to balance you on your feet and against his chest, a position you seem to appreciate as you welcome his touch and lean on him, your head lazily resting on his shoulder. You’re both out of step and he must point that out in your ear because you giggle and shrug, your hands covering his only to guide his arms further around you.

Eren isn’t really a drinker. He doesn’t like how alcohol tastes, never needs liquid courage, merely indulges in a beer or two at parties or celebrations. But holy fuck, if he isn’t on the verge of downing as many drinks as needed to get absolutely shit faced.

“You okay?” someone shouts so close to his ear he almost feels his brain rattle.

“What?” Eren shouts back, glad to have an excuse to finally look away from the dancefloor. Colt repeats the question with an even higher pitch.

“I’m great!”

His friend rolls his eyes and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Don’t take it personally!”

Eren frowns and follows his gaze, only just locating Pieck in the middle of the dancing crowd, smile fondly mirroring Marco’s. He almost throws his head back in laughter but is able to hold back, placing a hand on Colt’s shoulder in turn instead.

“All good!” and his friend smiles at that, giving him a thumbs up as he takes a sip from the cup he’s holding.

But, honestly, all is very fucking far from being good. Because Eren is left staring at you once again as the song changes and a lo-fi house mix starts blaring from Connie’s speakers which are, incomprehensibly, still not detonating. You’re nothing more than a silhouette in a light so dim he can’t quite discern your features anymore and still his jaw clenches as you turn around and wrap your arms around his friend’s neck. Eren exhales through his nose because how could this be happening? How is Porco the one getting to feel the back of your thighs, to take a handful of your ass in his hands? How are you pressing your body flush against him as he leans forward just enough not to leave any more distance between you two, the sight of your lips on his sufficient to make Eren's stomach churn?

“Be right back” he doesn’t even look at Colt to make sure he’s heard the deafening yell that bubbles from his throat as he turns his back to the mess he’s witnessing and makes his way upstairs, away from the pounding beat that’s making his head throb.

Two seconds after Colt is left alone by the door frame, you take a cautious step back, hands sliding down to Porco’s biceps to balance yourself.

“I need a second!”, you shout, to which he frowns, so you repeat yourself leaning a little more into his ear and there’s really no time to check if he’s heard you because two palms flatten against your back and lightly shove you out of the mob and towards the couch pushed to the side of the room. You clumsily land on it, heels be damned, and Mikasa almost trips on you in an attempt to sit down more gracefully. For what you’re able to see in the semi darkness, her cheeks are flushed and some strands of raven hair are sticking to her forehead.

“What’s wrong?” your first instict is to be alarmed as you grab her by the arm and offer your ear for her to shout into. Has Jean been grabby? Is she uncomfortable? Why are her brows so furrowed?

“What are you doing?” she asks, voice oozing disapproval as you blink in confusion.

“I was dancing?” you ask back, to which Mikasa rolls her eyes. The exasperated sigh she breathes out loud, clear, intimidating despite the banging music. She leans over to shout something back in your ear as a response but you only manage to catch a bunch of disconnected words instead of a rational sentence. Tongue, wrong, mouth.

“My tongue is wrong?” you cup her ear with your hand in an attempt to make sure she, as opposed to you, understands what you’re saying. Mikasa is annoyed but still, she indulges in a giggle.

“Your tongue was in the wrong mouth!”

“Why isn’t yours somewhere else right now?” you pull back slightly in hopes she can see your narrowed eyes. Mikasa lightly slaps your arm, a blush creeping up all the way up to her cheeks.

“Don’t deflect!”

Your throat is sore from screaming so you simply roll your eyes and pull out your phone, frantically typing in an empty text box and then proceeding to hold the screen in front of your friend’s face, the sudden light making her eyes squint.

He’s hot and he likes me, when will that ever happen again?

Mikasa snatches the phone from your hand and types back.

It’s already happened. Go find him.

Your gaze flickers from the screen to her, disbelief embedded in your features. Why is everyone convinced something as unthinkable as Eren Yeager being suddenly interested in you is real? Why are you getting shit for making out with a guy when he’s been making out with someone else all night?

You’re so fed up and tired of having to explain yourself and worn out from the tension clenching your limbs. As you take the phone from Mikasa’s hands one last time, you refuse to look at her.

I’m gonna go find a bathroom.

The room is slightly undulating as you get up and it takes a second to make sure you’re steady enough on your feet to walk away. Mikasa calls your name but you dismiss her concern by gesturing vaguely with one hand, not even bothering to turn around.

Throughout the years, movies and shows and books have taught you that bathrooms are upstairs at the end of the hallway, usually on the left, so that’s where you decide you’re headed to.

You stumble on the stairs, a hand is kept on the handrail for good measure as you grumble to yourself that maybe a pit stop in the kitchen to get some water would’ve been a smart move. Heels annoyingly click on the linoleum flooring as you arrive at your predefined destination. You abruptly let yourself in a random room by pushing a barely closed door open and squint your eyes for a second, not expecting the light to be on. Eren looks up from the bed covered with coats and jackets he’s sitting on. The beat of silence stretches for a moment too long: he doesn’t cast his eyes away and you awkwardly stand with one foot in the room, the other still by the door.

“Everything okay?” you hear yourself ask.

“You alright?” he inquires in synch.

He chuckles, you smile. Bathroom be damned: freshening up can wait a few minutes, you decide as you step in.

“No, don’t—” Eren suddenly raises his voice with an urgent pitch that makes you wince as you shut the door behind you, brows furrowed in confusion “close it” he sighs, hand coming in contact with his forehead with a loud smack.

Huh?

“D’you suffer from claustrophobia?” it’s incredible, really, that you’re able to spell out such a big word at the moment.

“Handle’s broken” he groans.

Oh.

You give it a hesitant try and sure enough it sinks easily under your grip, the door remaining locked. Great.

“Can you call someone?”

“Phone died. Can you?”

You promptly unlock your phone and select Mikasa’s name to tap on in your most recent calls list. Nothing. You try both Ymir and Christa next but who knows where they left their phones, it’s almost midnight and you doubt anyone’s stopped dancing to check their messages yet.

“Someone will look for us eventually” you shrug and walk over to what you can only guess is Connie’s bed, only to sit on the cream colored carpet on the ground, back pressed against the bed. Your shoulder is close enough to long legs wrapped in dark jeans and you have to resist the urge to lean into one of them as you stretch your own towards the wall, too tipsy too care about how exposed your legs actually are.

“What’re you doing here anyway? Everyone’s dancing” you hope you sound casual enough.

“I fled to avoid killing whoever is in charge of that playlist” his tone is playful, something that, for some reason, fills your chest with relief.

“So you’re a music snob” you glance up at him “who would’ve guessed”

“It’s called having taste”

Your snort comes out as a badly concealed laugh and he shortly turns his head to look at the wall on his right, to hide his own smile. He can tell it’s going to be a short-lived resistance but he isn’t willing to cave in to your warmth so easily. It’s immature, the annoyance churning in the pit of his stomach: he doesn’t own nor he has claimed you but he can’t bear the thought of Porco’s hands on you, the way you had melted into his touch, how your fingers must’ve tangled in his hair—

“Eren, d’you want to fuck me?”

He freezes, breath hitching in his throat. The first thing he registers, is how freakishly good you can make his name sound. The second, is the way your lips must’ve wrapped around the words fuck me. Certainly good enough to make his cock twitch in his briefs.

“What?” his voice comes out uncharacteristically choked and you look up at him through thick lashes, gaze so innocent he has to inhale deeply through his nose.

“S’that what you want? Why you’ve been so nice to me?”

It’s a pin-drop feeling the disappointment that suddenly washes over him like a tidal wave, sharp and powerful in its density. It’s like his stomach is crumpling up like a piece of paper, abdomen so squeezed he feels on the verge of throwing up right then and there.

“Can you elaborate?” he politely asks, as if one of his hands isn’t clenching the sleeve of a random leather jacket from the pile of outerwear scattered on the bed he’s sitting on. You shrug.

“Everyone’s been implying weird stuff ‘bout you liking me and I thought yeah, he’s been unusually nice but he probably just wants to fuck, s’all”

Is that what alcohol does? Turn you into this inhibited, brutally straightforward person?

Your words sting. Not because they’re true but because they could’ve so easily been true and Eren knows that all too well. He’d lie if he said he didn’t enjoy having a reputation, getting stopped by other students willing to compliment him on a particularly good game, having girls casually stop by his table at the campus cafeteria, receiving smiles and salacious proposals and having notes slipped underneath his door when they know he’d be in his dorm.

Eren dates but doesn’t actually do relationships. Being casual about flings means he gets to have more options and keeping things relaxed, temporary even, means he both doesn’t have to give in to actual intimacy and handle someone else’s depth. But that’s the thing: he doesn’t engage with any of that if he’s not absolutely certain the other person is willing to stay on the same, exact page. Not that he’s always been this considerate, by any means, but he’s learned his lesson and now strives not to be too bad of a person.

Has he fantasized about having his head buried between your thighs? Has he wondered how you’d look underneath him, if you’d ever want to be there in the first place? Yes. Does he like the idea of you thinking he’s spent an entire afternoon sketching candy cane forests and gingerbread houses, washing the dishes cause he could guess your tiredness, making hot cocoa to make you stay a little longer, inviting you to the stupid party, all just because he wanted to get in your pants?

No, he hates the idea. Fuck the idea, actually.

“If you believe I can only be nice to someone if I want to fuck ‘em, you’re not so different from what you think I am” he mutters bitterly, words cutting through the air like a knife slicing through softened butter.

Truth is, he’s being unfair and he knows it. Deep down he just didn’t believe you’d be the type of girl to be able to let go, enjoy a party, make out with some random guy and let him touch you in front of everyone. He didn’t think you’d be easy to charm but, hell, he at least hoped he’d be the only one attempting to.

“Well, you’ve only ever been an ass to me” your reply is just as bitter.

Has he? Well, it’s possible.

“You’re not a walk in the park yourself”

“Excuse me?”

He huffs.

“It’s practically impossible to approach you. And you’re judgmental, all the time”

You prop your elbow on the bed to gain some leverage as you turn your body towards him, mouth indignantly open to let out a string of protests.

“Don’t even get me started on the polemic tone” he rolls his eyes and you have to fight the urge to clench your fingers around the duvet.

“Okay, first of all, you just lack basic human courtesy” you intentionally ignore the being judgmental accusation because, much to your annoyance, it’s legit. Each time you’d get a glimpse of him or his friends around campus you’d only be able to think about how insufferable, obnoxious, annoying they were. A single night with them and you’ve already found out how sweet Jean can actually be, how friendly and genuine Connie is, how no one has made you feel uncomfortable or unwelcome even though you’re a stranger to all of them. Each of them went out of their way to make sure no one felt left out and that’s something you never would’ve guessed about some of the most popular people who usually roam around your school shouting loud, inappropriate jokes and randomly start piggyback ride challenges across campus.

“S'that all you got?” his chuckle is, for a change, infuriating. You want to slap his stupid knee. “You didn’t seem to mind my courtesy degree back at mine”

Yes, because you were actually surprisingly nice to be around.

Eren’s eyes are on you in a second while you struggle to come up with an effective comeback.

“Was I, now?” a smirk stretches his lips and you’re horrified to find out you’ve actually voiced your thoughts out loud.

“Let’s not talk” you cross your arms over your chest and lean with your back against the bed once more, face heating up so quickly you’re not sure hiding it it’s of any use.

“Or we could let this pointless hostility go”

“I’m not hostile, just reasonably annoyed”

“So we should just sit in silence?”

You’re certainly obstinate enough to let your non-reply speak volumes and it takes a whole lot of resistance not to snap at his chuckle.

And so minutes pass, the only sound punctuating the quiet being the muffled beat coming from downstairs, bass still managing to rattle your very bones. You could pull out your phone again, check social media to kill time, play a game of sudoku, but you don’t. Instead, you just keep staring at the wall, hyperaware of yet another not-entirely-unpleasant proximity.

It’s so fucking annoying, the effect he has on you. There’s something wicked about him, some sort of mysterious way that pulls you in, closer than what you’d like, words making blood rush to your head only to be turning you into a godforsaken, flustered mess the second after. You feel in this sort of haze whenever he’s with you, but it’s not a dark, smoky one: it’s ignited, blinding, dazzling. Like an obscuration of better judgment and rationality that feels just too threacherous to give in to and yet so appealing.

“I’m sorry” it’s soft, sudden and almost a whisper that causes you to glance up at him once more “I can be annoying but I’m not a bad guy, y’know”

You’re startled by his change of tone and feel the sudden, unwanted urge to get up and sit next to him. Threacherous indeed.

“It’s fine” and it really is, for fuck’s sake “I don’t think you’re a bad guy”

Your mind is slowly starting to gain back its clarity and you realize that you’ve actually, non ironically asked Eren Yeager if he’s only treating you like a human being because he’d like to have sex with you. Christ, someone can’t come open the door and let you out fast enough.

“Just an ass?” he asks and you’re relieved to recognize the playfulness embedded in his tone once again.

“Just an ass” you confirm, forcing yourself not to add a lenient sometimes at the end.

Eren sighs but you can tell you’re past the unsettling tension just experienced. As he slides down to sit on the carpet, awfully close to you once more, you’re left thinking about two distinct things: how freakishly long his legs are compared to yours and the fact that holy shit Eren Yeager has just actually apologized to you.

“Are you not enjoying the party?” the question comes out naturally as you carefully avoid his gaze, one ankle crossed over the other.

“What makes you think that?”

“You sitting in a room on your own right before midnight?”

With the corner of your eye you’re able to catch his shrug.

“As I said, bad playlist. Terrible headache”

“You left her alone”

“Who?”

“Your girlfriend”

A pause.

“Why’re you not looking at me?”

Reluctantly, you do. And there’s nearly not enough alcohol left buzzing through your veins to bear that gaze.

“She’s not my girlfriend” he spells out the words attentively, taking his time. Which makes the moment weird, uncomfortable, borderline intimate. God.

“Okay” you mutter back, uncertain. It’s pathetic, honestly, how thin your voice comes out.

He seems on the verge of saying something but that’s when you hear it: someone’s calling your name from the hallway. Is it Armin? No, his pitch is not that deep.

As he gets closer, you recognize him. It’s Porco. Of course he’s nice enough to come looking for you while your best friends are apparently too goddamn busy to give a shit.

Eren hasn’t cast his eyes away from your face, now so intently turned to anxiously look at the door handle being lowered multiple times to no avail. Porco is knocking, your name becoming a question as he waits for a reply that never comes. Why you keep sitting there in silence is something you can’t quite understand but it just happens. You don’t call back, you don’t frantically ask him to get Connie and the key to let you out. So, eventually, the handle stops moving and Porco’s voice fades once more. And Eren doesn’t ask why you haven’t moved, apparently more uncomfortable than relieved at the idea of the door being pushed open. He doesn’t, because he feels the same. And he’s done trying to give the feeling a name. Who cares?

“What if I do?” he mutters, certainly patient enough to wait for your gaze to meet his.

“What if you do what?” you dare look up from your lap at last, you dare let his challenging eyes bore right back into yours.

“Like you” the casualness with which he bares the very words that cut through the sudden, sweltering heat of the room, is jarring. Eren assesses the incredulous look taking over your features but doesn’t make fun of it. He wants you to take him seriously, just this once at least.

The music downstairs is suddenly turned down and you swear you can hear the echo of your pounding heartbeat, which is odd, because one would think the high-pitched buzzing in your ears would be enough to cover any other sound.

“You don’t know me” and he can’t fucking help it, the smile that rises to his lips. Because it’s not a protest, it’s not repulsion. It’s just doubt. And he can handle doubt.

“I’d like to start” you can barely register that his leg is flush against yours and so warm as he gets a little closer “if you’ll let me” and that right there is probably your favorite version of him: cautious, attentive, charming.

A deafening countdown begins a floor down as he waits, patient. You get closer, pulled in by the familiarity of his scent and sure enough you’re back in the blinding, gleaming haze he carries with him. Eren gets closer too, noses grazing and lips ghosting over each other as one of his warm, solid hands chastely closes around your knee, a gesture so simple and yet still capable of making you shiver. His breath is warm on your lips as he exhales gently, praying you can’t catch the desperation embedded in it.

Loud cheers erupt from a distance that seems infinite.

“Okay” you whisper.