#no! no i very much did not. and now it's becoming more enticing to just let it happen

[dykethang]

i need more bipolar vibes songs. Honestly. like yeah there's bipolar baby! by ftsk but like. there needs to be fucking more. i can't just listen to this song and maps by tfb and get better by frank turner on repeat. unfeasible.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Hybrid Town (3) | Only Human

Part One, Two

Before your fateful encounter that led to the attention of your loyal canine neighbors and the adoring affection of cow-woman- Eudora you were left to your own devices. Managing your own chores and the sprucing up of your newly inherited property. But it’s exhausting working day in and out on such a big project; it’s a given that you search for something else to do. Something to keep the loneliness at bay as you endure the sneers and snickers from the townspeople. Specifically found in one of the most abandoned spots of the whole town the library. 

Ring Ring

“Hello is anyone in here?....Well if you are I’m just going to find what I need and check it out at the desk!”

Typically this would seem presumptuous for anyone to do but you had a sneaking suspicion your human status might have something to do with the missing librarian. Nonetheless, you did what you said grabbing a small amount and writing on the ledger conveniently left on the desk. Filling it out hoping that whoever was responsible for the neatly kept interior within the run-down library would realize you’d taken the initiative to borrow. Unbeknownst to you igniting a chain reaction for those who bear witness.

“Did they…take a book?”

“T-t-they took four!”

“Oh, goodness!?”

Now there were quite a few curious souls that looked at you without contempt as they spied on you flipping through your latest borrows as you made your way to your car but none as eager as the librarian himself. It wasn’t bizarre that someone would come into the library to borrow a book…what was odd was that a newcomer had come for it and had full intentions to return.

“I-it’’s them!?? They’re coming back!”

“Eeek I’ll have to hide!”

Ring Ring

“If anyone’s here I’ll just do what I did last time.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see some kind of appendage but when you turn to follow you find nothing but another row of books. Still oblivious to the hybrid practically gone into heat at the close encounter, they watch you leave once again.

“They nearly saw my tail!”

“T-that has to mean s-s-something good, right?”

 The few citizens of the town who frequented the library considered themselves to be of a different variety than the plebians rest of the town. A more enlightened group that relied on their vast collection of books to inform their decisions. All led by the very man given the honor to run the library.

“All rise for the great Stein!”

“Rest your heads, my enlightened followers a great happening has come upon us and I have our next course of action.”

By day the librarian was the soft-spoken, always flustered snake hybrid—Stein. Hired by the mayor to watch over the library in a building slowly violating the regulations of the up-to-code buildings surrounding it. It was the perfect place for the alarming presence of a snake hybrid feared for their notorious predatory instinct. Hidden, secluded, and generally avoided by the greater part of the town. Even those with a predator heritage were wary of the reptilian hybrid that is if they didn’t know him for the timid, stuttering librarian he appeared to be is.

“I-i-i’m the librarian w-w-w-what do you need help with?”

“Wow happy to finally meet you this time! Anyway I was wondering if you had the sequel to this book? I tried looking for it but I just can’t seem to find it.”

“T-t-t-that’s f-f-f-fine come with me.”

By night, Stein would become the leader that the minority of the town gathered around. Eagerly awaiting his knowledgable word. On an unrelated note, the town’s collection of books has a larger collection of the fictional genre influencing those curious enough to explore. With so much information they only found it right to turn to the hybrid tasked with understanding it all, seeing as no one other than Stein had attempted to learn from the non-fiction section…that is until you.

“My lord what does this mean!?”

“Shall we stake them?!”

“Ritualize them?!”

“Entice them to join!?

“Enlightened, please! Quiet your questions for I have the answer to all of them. The human is our Excalibur!”

Gasps fill the library basement.

“Can this be?”

“As the legend foretells whosoever should hold Excalibur shall hold the keys to the kingdom!” 

“That must be you our great lord Stein! You are the Arthur!”

“I should hope so.” 

“With this knowledge, we can work together to bring Excalibur to you!”

“But we must be cautious! The others of the round table before they become friends will be enemies!” 

“We must begin planning immediately!”

Stein isn’t delusional or an idiot or easily swayed by any means. He’s well aware that the stories of Welsh folklore are obviously not real at least not in this time. He went to school, a private school that accelerated his learning and then he went to a university where he proceeded to get his doctorate. But the bored and uninspired superstitious minority of the town did not. If that wasn’t enough to convince these other hybrids to follow, the fact that his particular origins were that of the venomous Black Mamba with a mix of Boa Constrictor. They were right to be afraid he happened to have both killer traits of his feared parents, it’s a given many insolent prey will rationalize that the one they fear the most must know the truth.

“(Y-y/n) good to see you, checking out the prequels?”

“You know it. I also wanted to know if you had recommendations for building doggy doors?”

“...I might have something…are you thinking of getting a dog?”

“Not necessarily but I’ve got a hole in my door and I think if I try and fix it it’ll just keep happening.”

“Say it! Ask my lord!”

“What was that?”

“I-i-uh I’m not very good with fixing things b-b-but if you like I could take a look…if you like?”

“That’s real sweet of you Stein, I appreciate that!” 

“The steps to procuring Excalibur commences!”

“Shh!”

He figures if he’s happening to start a cult, he might as well get help in his love-life. It might have been foolish to proclaim a poor outcast human the most prized object that this collective could agree upon but knowing the lengths his followers would go to he’d rather you be something adored than hated. Especially since the control he had on the collective wasn’t as straightforward as he had hoped.

“See my lord we’ve brought you the enemy!”

“Mmmffff.”

“Oh my.”

“It will be your first of many meals—I mean sacrifices in your pursuit of the grand Excalibur.”

“I–yes that is the plan.”

“Now eat! This is just fodder for the great Stein! Oh the grand ruler you’ll be!”

“EAT!” “EAT!” “EAT!” “EAT!”

Stein swallows a tired sigh, ‘a wolf hybrid is gonna be so fattening.’

“For your information my lord, he broke the wheels of Excalibur’s wagon–forcing them to buy their overpriced replacements.”

“...I’ll need salt.”

“Yes, my lord!”

When he’s not playing up to the dastardly cult leader he gets to be at night he’s all so shy. It’s hard trying to connect with the human he’s got such a big crush on especially since their outcasted status was beginning to change. Unknowingly harming him, his collective was being much nicer—complimenting you and standing up for you when you have encounters with human-hating citizens. He’s happy for you but he curses the loss he used to have with speaking to you. Now instead of his well-planned bump-ins with you on the way to the market he’ll have to spend more of his evening following far behind. And that’s when your neighbors and roommate aren’t getting in the way

“Don’t argue with me, Mutt I know you did that on purpose!”

“Please, no one told you to where those dumb shoes to a market day!”

“Yeah well appearance is every–”

“...” “...”

“Mutt go get (Y/n), I smell danger.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

It’s so shattering for him to constantly be overshadowed by every interested citizen in town. It’s almost enough to make him give up hope but the remaining thing that ties him to you is his saving grace. 

“W-what if we made a book-club, you and I?”

“I don’t think anyone would want to join. Not with me in it…”

“Mmm–”

“But I’d love to talk about books with you! Over drinks or at my house if that’s better!”

“T-t-t-that’s perfect!”

If he could get past his fears he’s sure he’d be a force to be reckoned with but he’d much rather go the way he’s going now. He often receives letters about how his mother kept his father close to the nest at the beginning of their relationship. And since she seems to believe he can do even better with a mere human, he’d love if it was all organic minus the cults help.

“I feel like I'm on fire knowing such a holy existence is so close to me. I’m going to take full advantage of this. You are just a human it might be better that it’s me you end up with, especially in this town.”

Part 4: Coming Soon

Taglist: @midnight-nightmares@xrenka@candlesworlds-blog@00hellohello00@lem-hhn @kawaii-cakes @ceramic-raven @lilyalone @asleepysouluniverse @mel-vaz @sxftiebee @staarflowerr @horror-lover-69 @stanfordswifey @butratherbutrather

[captainmalewriter]

Miss Pigwin's Journal

Among the myriad of stereotypes surrounding gay men, Ivan never really fit into any of them. He was never the flamboyant queen nor the circuit party gay. Ivan always considered himself to be more of a lone wolf type. Although many would find the life of a social hermit boring and exhausting, Ivan truly didn’t mind his quiet, solitary lifestyle. Just class, work, gym, rinse and repeat. It was a simple routine, but it was one that Ivan loved. 

One evening, after his engineering classes, Ivan made a quick pit stop at the local store before heading back to his apartment. He needed to buy a new journal after he had filled out the last page the night before. Journaling was a hobby that Ivan took very seriously. For the past five or so years, Ivan would take 10 minutes every night to write his complete, unfiltered thoughts in his journal before bed. It was a therapeutic practice for Ivan, and he did not plan to stop anytime soon. 

Ivan was hoping to find a stylish yet relatively cheap journal but was quickly met with disappointment instead as he made his way down the stationary aisle. The store had completely run out of notebooks! A nearby employee told Ivan that the overnight crew would restock the store and that he should return the next day, but he was too determined to give up after having gone through the trouble of walking to the store. He scoured the store until he finally found one misplaced notebook, although its gaudy design left much to be desired…

It was a bright pink journal with glimmering sequins and came with a large bundle of pink ribbon. The journal had an ugly cartoon drawing of a pig in a princess dress along with her name ‘Miss Pigwin’ written in glitter across the top of the cover page. Ivan pulled out his phone and did a quick internet search to find out more about the Miss Pigwin notebook. Apparently, it was limited edition merchandise for some obscure children’s cartoon that never made it past 5 episodes. The idea behind Miss Pigwin was that kids could better understand their pets by helping them communicate with them. Kids were tie a piece of ribbon around an animal, and with Miss Pigwin's help, they would become their best friends. At least that was what the old advertisements promised anyway.

Obviously, the designers meant it to be used for pets like dogs and cats, so it was no wonder the pink journal was quickly discontinued after kids tried to tie ribbons around dangerous, wild animals instead. All in all, it was just cheap scraps of overly decorated paper for imaginative little girls. 

Ivan didn’t care much for the girly pink notebook. However, it was still a notebook at the end of the day, and the $5 price tag was too enticing to give up. He bought it and promptly returned to his apartment where his roommate Jesse was hosting a few of his frat friends over for beer pong. 

Ivan and Jesse were not friends but they were civil enough as roommates. Jesse wasn’t officially a part of a frat yet, but he already had the wild personality of a frat brother anyway. Jesse’s constant partying and drinking was annoying to Ivan, so he often made himself scarce—  as he did that night. He went about his usual nighttime routine and thankfully, by the time he sat down at his desk to journal, all of Jesse’s guests were gone. But just before he could touch pen to paper, Jesse came stumbling into the room.

“Hey, bro, you got any ribbon or string by any chance?” Jesse asked. Ivan hesitated saying yes right away.

“Maybe, what for?” 

“There’s this stupid Tiktok trend going on right now. Dudes are tying a piece of ribbon around their bicep and flexing until it breaks. The bros are saying I need to do every trend I see if I wanna continue rushing.”

“Cool, makes sense. Here, you can have it all. I don’t need it.”

Ivan took the bundle of ribbon that came with the Miss Pigwin journal and helped Jesse tie a piece around his bicep. Although Ivan did not like Jesse in that way, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited as he wrapped the ribbon around his straight roommate’s muscular arm. It was probably the only time he’d be that close to Jesse, so he relished in the moment as much as he could. Once it was tied, Jesse thanked him and left the room to record his Tiktok. Meanwhile, Ivan returned to his journal and began writing. 

March 12th - I am soo fucking h*rny. Sometimes, I wish my roommate would give in to his secret desires and just makeout with me already. 

Just as Ivan finished writing the last letter, a terrifying scream coming from the living room interrupted his journaling session. He quickly ran out with the pink journal in hand and saw Jesse straining himself to break the ribbon. No matter how hard he flexed, the pink ribbon stayed firmly wrapped around his bicep.

Although Ivan was worried about the pink ribbon constricting Jesse's arm, he couldn't help but stare at the massive bulge in his roommate's gray sweatpants. It was huge! Was Jesse hard? Ivan always had a feeling that his straight roommate was packing some serious heat downstairs, but he would've never guessed he'd be that big and thick! Just seeing his bulge was enough to make Ivan's jaw drop!

"Dude is this ribbon made out of fucking titanium or some shit! Where the fuck did you even get this!?" Jesse yelled out in anguish. It was enough to bring Ivan back down to Earth.

"I don't know! It came free with this weird notebook I found."

"Whatever!! Just go get the scissors! This shit's way too tight, my arm's starting to go numb!"

"Right! Hang on, I'll be right back!"

Uh oh!!

Just as Ivan turned around to go get the scissors, a sudden high-pitched voice made him stop dead in his tracks. It was a girl's voice, and it was coming from the notebook in his hands. Ivan looked down and froze from what he saw. The cartoon princess pig had come to life!

Uh oh!! It looks like our new friend isn't being a very good listener! Let's play some music to help clear his mind!

Miss Pigwin began singing a melody while soft piano music played. The music had no effect on Ivan, but it did on Jesse. Jesse suddenly stopped fighting and just laid flat on the floor. Within seconds, he had gone from a pissed off jock trying to rip the ribbon off his arm to eerily calm and relaxed. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled heavily. Jesse had a dazed look in his eyes once he opened them. He had a dull, almost sleepy-like expression plastered on his face too. It was like he was sedated by simply listening to Miss Pigwin's song! Only once Jesse was fully relaxed did Miss Pigwin finally stop the music.

Yayyy!! No more distracting thoughts! Now what did our best friend tell us?

Ivan watched in awe as Jesse got up from the ground while massaging his protruding bulge. His movements were almost mechanical, like a mindless robot following orders. He then began walking towards Ivan while reciting what Ivan had written inside the Miss Pigwin journal.

"I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate. I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate. I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate."

It was incredible. Despite having never read it, Jesse kept repeating what Ivan had written over and over like a personal mantra!

Once Jesse closed the gap between them, Ivan got a good look how dilated his pupils were. It was quite the sight to see, though Jesse didn't give Ivan any time to react. Instead, he quickly joined his lips with Ivan's and kissed him roughly. Ivan was caught off guard by the surprise kiss but quickly matched Jesse's energy as the two kissed like it was their last night being alive. Ivan could hardly believe it. He had gone from merely tolerating his roommate's existence to making out with him in the same night! He felt himself light up with joy and pleasure as Jesse's hairy chest pressed against his with every kiss.

They continued at it for a while, locking lips until they gradually moved towards the couch. From there, they both discarded any remaining clothes they had on. Ivan hopped into Jesse's strong arms and went in for another deep kiss. He was shuddering with anticipation as he felt Jesse's rock hard boner tap against his butt. Luckily for him, it didn't take them much longer until they decided to get into position. Ivan spit onto Jesse's cock to lube it up, then guided it into his hole. A deep, sensual moan escaped his mouth as Jesse slowly thrusted his hips into him. Inch by inch, his dick disappeared into his ass. The room then filled with the sounds of men grunting and heavy, cum-filled balls clapping against Ivan's cheeks. Ivan was in heaven, while Jesse was in a trance with only one thought in his mind. Give into his desires, and makeout with his roommate.

Ivan woke up the next morning feeling like a brand new man after the amazing pounding he had received from Jesse. To say he was in a state of bliss would be a massive understatement! Even just remembering the feeling of Jesse's massive cock inside of him was enough to make Ivan smile with delight. But his grin quickly faded when he reached out for the Miss Pigwin journal and found it wasn't where he had left it before falling asleep. Even worse, he found a piece of pink ribbon had been tied around his wrist while he was sleeping.

"No... Nononono NOO!!"

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty! Looking for something?"

To Ivan's horror, Jesse was holding the Miss Pigwin journal and he looked furious! Although, despite the present danger, Ivan couldn't help but notice that Jesse still had the same ribbon tied around his bicep.

"Hey man... Let's put down the journal, and have a civilized conversation between adults. I promise it's not what it looks like, just let me ex-"

"Nahh FUCK that. I'm glad I woke up just before you did, otherwise I would've never found out what the fuck you did to me with this weird journal. You always gave me weird vibes but this? I... I don't even know where to start I'm so MAD!"

Jesse slammed a fist against the wall, startling Ivan. He then let out a maniacal chuckle as he pulled out a pen and opened the journal.

"Alright, Ivan, you wanna fuck up my mind so badly? Two can play at that game!"

Loud scribbling filled the room. Once he finished, Jesse read out loud what he wrote.

"Ivan's too serious for his own good. He needs to lighten up and join my frat so we can become best bros forever!!"

"...That's stupid. I'm not gonna do that."

"Are you sure?"

Uh oh!!

"I think Miss Pigwin might disagree with-"

Ivan smacked the book out of Jesse's hands, catching him off guard. The journal landed against the wall with a loud thud. Ivan wasted no time making a break for the journal. He bought himself a few seconds by smacking it away from Jesse. Those few seconds were all he needed to open the journal to a new page and write something down. In the heat of the moment, he could only think of one thing to write.

"Jesse's gay 4 me!"

"YOU FUCKER! ERASE THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW!!"

Jesse grabbed the journal but Ivan had a tight grip on it. The two slammed into the nearby walls and furniture as they tried to wrestle it out of the other's hands. The Miss Pigwin journal was getting torn and crumpled up in the crossfire of their fight, but that didn't stop the princess from carrying out her sole purpose.

It looks- New friend- Good listener! Let's- Some music- clear his mind!

Miss Pigwin began singing her soothing song, forcing both men into a hypnotic trance as they listened. They both fell to the ground screaming as the pink ribbons grew tighter around their bodies. They tried plugging their ears with their fingers, but it was already too late. The second they heard the first few notes of her song, Miss Pigwin was already deep within subconscious- ready to broadcast whatever was written in the journal directly into their brains. However, because the journal had gotten destroyed during the fight, Miss Pigwin's subliminal messaging turned out to be incredibly potent than usual.

Ivan fell back against the ground in a daze. He couldn't believe how discombobulated he was. It was like he was trapped underwater as he felt his mind beginning to clear of any and all thoughts. Ivan let out a heavy sigh as a powerful, cool calm filled his body. Soon enough, the only thing he could think about was how badly he wanted to become a frat bro just like Jesse. Ivan repeated his new life mantra to himself as his mind became hyper focused on only one goal.

"I need to lighten up... I need to join a frat... I need to become best bros with Jesse..."

A lot of his engineering knowledge got wiped away from his mind to make room for his new personality. Mathematics and physics were replaced with workout regimes and a strong, itching need to drink and get laid. The partying lifestyle of the frat bro that once repulsed Ivan became as normal as breathing to the former homebody gay man. Ivan tried resisting against Miss Pigwin's conditioning. He tried reminding himself how much he loved a quiet night at home by himself. He tried recalling how much he hated loud, obnoxious men who did nothing but party and drink all night. But everytime he tried fighting against it, the little voice repeating his mantra grew louder and louder until all opposition was completely stamped out. Ivan had been reborn.

As he rose from the ground with an altered conscience and personality, the only thing on Ivan's mind was how to maximize his gains the next time he hit the gym. After all, how could he even dare to show his face around his frat brothers if he couldn't keep up with them in terms of bodybuilding?

Meanwhile, Jesse laid out sprawled on the ground as a calm stupor washed over his aggravated mind. Soon enough, his mind became a quiet place where only one thought remained.

"I'm gay for Ivan... I'm gay for Ivan... I'm gay... For Ivan..."

Jesse repeated the same sentence to himself until the words no longer felt foreign leaving his mouth. Soon enough, saying he was gay for Ivan felt as natural as saying his name. His desires to sleep with women melted away from his subconscious everytime he recited his new mantra.

Like Ivan, Jesse tried fighting against it. He tried remembering the taste and feel of a woman's touch, but it was no use against Miss Pigwin's powerful conditioning. His memories of being with women were quickly fading. In their place, a deep, profound love for his roommate-turned-loved began to take hold. Within minutes, Jesse wanted nothing more in life than to stand by his boyfriend's side and make sure he felt loved.

Once Ivan and Jesse woke up to their new personalities, Miss Pigwin finished her song, never to be heard from again due to the journal being in tatters. Jesse woke up with a headache and with a grinning Ivan by his side.

"Good morning my handsome boyfriend, how'd you sleep?"

"Amazing because I slept with you, my love." Jesse joined his lips against Ivan's. The two shared a deep kiss filled with passion, ending with a loud smack when they finally pulled apart.

"You ready for today? I can't wait to start the rushing process, then we can join together!" Ivan flashed a wide smile. Jesse wrapped his hands around Ivan's neck.

"The frat can wait till later. Right now, I want you all to myself."

He pulled Ivan in for another kiss. The two men then proceeded to fuck all morning, completely unaware of the strange circumstances that led them to that point. All thanks to a little princess pig on the cover of a bright pink notebook.

[rationaliity]

voicelines about you | various ( i. )

the men's voiceline about you ! next will do a part of the women they're short because i wanted them to sound legit, which is why i did so many !! hope you enjoy anyways <33 this is all purely self indulgent because ill be real with you im not feeling very daijoubou rn

— DR. RATIO

about you : an incomprehensible yet enticing mess in the body of a person. i don't understand their way of thinking at all, and yet, it almost feels as if they understand me in a way few do. peculiar.

chat: his relationship with you : ..relationship is hardly the word i would use to describe our acquaintance. however, i suppose they are not completely inept, unlike many i have had the misfortune of coming across in my time.

added to team with you : take care of yourself. should i have to step in, i will do so to prevent some unfortunate happenstances.

— WELT YANG

about you : potentially one of the kindest individuals i have had the pleasure to be introduced to in my time of travelling the cosmos. a gentle soul like none other. they light up the world around them.

chat: his relationship with you : spending time with them has become a daily necessity for me. i find myself beginning to nag at the others when i have not spent enough time with them. march often asks me about them before anything else.

added to team with you : i appreciate your vitality, but try to take breaks whenever necessary.

— AVENTURINE

about you : quite the enigma, that one. before i even realized it, they had snuck their way into my heart. perhaps they were betting that i wouldn't notice, and perhaps.. it paid off for them.

chat: his relationship with you : they're the chip i hold closest to my chest. no.. a chip is the wrong comparison. they're the one thing i will always hold no matter the stakes of the bet. having them by my side is more important to me than any risk.

added to team with you : i'm willing to bet that the two of us together will make quite the team.

— ARGENTI

about you : the moment our eyes met, i knew they were someone of refined elegance, but i was wholly unprepared for the true beauty of their very being.

chat: his relationship with you : i feel the closest to idrila and the eternal beauty that i seek when i am with them. they bring out a fire in me that simply cannot be quenched by any other soul, as if i were a moth to their brilliant flame.

added to team with you : as usual, i find myself captivated by your beauty and grace, my dear.

— BOOTHILL

about you : i don't know another capable of runnin' things how they run things. they got my respect. well, much more than just my respect, but that ain't proper to say.

chat: his relationship with you : ain't nothin' like the nice feelin' of knowin' you're loved by someone no matter whatcha look like or what you're capable of. they've been there through it all, the bad, the ugly, and the muddle-fudgin' terrible.

added to team with you : well i'll be the son of a nice lady, if it isn't you ! let me take care of ya, sweetheart.

— BLADE

about you : they are the one clear thing i can see when the mara strikes. no matter how far gone i am, i see them - clear as the many sunsets i have seen. they are where the light meets the dark.

chat: his relationship with you : this eternal purgatory that i have been cursed with feels... less hellish when they are by my side. it is as if, for a moment, my body and my soul forget what i am. i can only believe this is their doing.

added to team with you : death comes to all, but now is not your time.

— DAN HENG

about you : they were persistent in trying to know me for who i was, not who i could've been. they are kind, more so than any other person i have come to meet. they are strong and gentle at the same time.

chat: his relationship with you : march is always telling me that i should be more forthcoming with my emotions, but they seem to understand me quite well no matter how little i speak up. i.. really appreciate and value their presence in my life.

added to team with you : i will stand by you no matter what comes our way, do not be afraid.

— GALLAGHER

about you : what a riot, they are ! their personality reminds me of the strongest and sweetest drink mixed in one delightful package. it's easy to get addicted if i'm not careful.

chat: his relationship with you : i didn't understand at first why they wanted to hang out with this old dog as long as they did, not that you'll find me complainin' or nothin'. they always seemed entertained by my stories, and i like listenin' to them yap, too.

added to team with you : have a drink, i'll take care of whatever you need me to, just say the word.

— JING YUAN

about you : fascinating, with so many stories to tell, it could keep me even busier than i typically am for hours. although i must say that i enjoy being occupied by them than by work.

chat: his relationship with you : in the middle of the mundane trivialities of life that i have grown so accustomed to with my job title, they bring an air of uniqueness and excitement into every encounter. i find myself eagerly awaiting the times we meet.

added to team with you : i trust you are able to take this on yourself ? if not, well, that's why i am here, no ?

— GEPARD LANDAU

about you : they are more carefree than i am, and while it worries me at times, i find myself drawn to their spirit nonetheless. i think i'm just drawn to those kinds of people, or they are drawn to me.

chat: his relationship with you : sometimes, i feel like i'm nagging at them, even when i don't mean to, but it's because i'm always worried about them. i know they can protect themselves but i wish they would let me do it for them more often.

added to team with you : protecting you feels just as important as protecting belobog. i will do so with my life.

— LUKA

about you : they're probably the only person in belobog who really get my passion. they give their all for everything that they do, and i'm down for it !

chat: his relationship with you : they're really good at both getting me fired up and a little more mellow, depending on what i need for the moment. they're like my personal hype man / cheer leader, and i'm theirs when they need it ! that's why we work together so well.

added to team with you : this is going to be over like that with the two of us on the same team !

— LUOCHA

about you : they are wiser than they let on, it's hard to fool them or pull the wool over their eyes. even when i think i've kept a secret close, they've long since figured me out.

chat: his relationship with you : they help me see things that i would otherwise miss on my own, broadening my horizons when i need more depth brought to me. i'm grateful for their intuition and their knowledge on the world around us.

added to team with you : combat may not be my forte, but should you need assistance, i will be at your side.

— SUNDAY

about you : they are the embodiment of the feeling of the sun on your skin for the first time, warming your soul as well. they are gentle, and pick up where i lack.

chat: his relationship with you : i do not believe i am deserving of one quite like them, but i have a hard time letting them go nonetheless. they deserve more than i can give, but that doesn't stop me from trying regardless.

added to team with you : whoever dares to lay a finger on you will be met with swift and strict punishment.

— SAMPO KOSKI

about you : a person of many talents, much like myself, although they're charging significantly less for their expertise - free. i keep saying they should, but they're adamant about being kind.

chat: his relationship with you : my partnership with them could be best described as, er, jointly profitable. i provide my excellent services, and they grace me with their presence and their wits and.. maybe i am getting the better end of this deal.

added to team with you : it's your best pal, sampo koski, at your service ! aren't you glad i'm here ?

[hannieehaee]

HIIII, i just want you to know every content of yours has always been my fav ,i always anticipate every single writing of yours .

I would like to request reader who is in a relationship with s coups , they have been dating for a very long time. in this scenario, he admires the reader being friends with all of Svt, and how she also loves them and treats them like her little brothers, the rest of Svt enthusiastically greeting her. scoups observes from a distance admiring you with the people he cherishes . he can't help but wonder how he became so lucky to have all these people in his life.

content: bf!seungcheol, established relationship, fluff, afab reader, etc.

wc: 749

a/n: thank u so much im so glad u enjoy my content :D!! hope u like what i came up with c:

masterlist

seungcheol knew he was lucky.

after putting his career on the line at a very young age by joining an unknown company and seeing himself forced to endure all types of trials to succeed, he was now showered with accolades on a daily basis.

he had his twelve brothers, a successful career, a healthy family, a daughter (in the form of kkuma), a loving fanbase, riches and wealth. he had everything a man could possibly want. and just when he thought he possessed every luxury known to man, you came along.

you were the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. he had met you only by a chance, in a fleeting encounter when he caught sight of you during one of his schedules. he had been bewitched from that moment by not only your beauty, but also the demeanor of your person. seungcheol didnt know you then, but he knew he needed to.

one thing led to another and he somehow made you his. this, however, did not come without much effort. seungcheol fought tooth and nail against any and every obstacle that separated him from you, with the end result being your current relationship, which had been going strong for a few years now.

everything was at ease now. now seungcheol truly had everything he could ever want. not only did he have all the aforementioned luxuries, but he also had you to share them with.

you were practically another member of his family by now. his mother had easily adopted you as a daughter, and his family had welcomed you with open arms, practically treating you as his wife – something which always made seungcheol's heart soar and cheeks warm up.

not to mention kkuma, who claimed you as her mom from the moment a smitten seungcheol introduced you to her. nothing made seungcheol's heart fill up more than playing family with the two of you, merely practicing for what would come next in your relationship. providing for the both of you in ways he always hoped to do for the wife and kids he always envisioned was something that filled him with indescribable pride.

and lastly, his brothers, who had now become your own.

seungcheol never tired of seeing you with his friends, always having to fight the embarrassing grin that always invaded his face when he brought you around to play with them.

you had a special friendship with each member; each of which seungcheol was always attentive to (from a distance, as he liked to enjoy the view).

with jeonghan, you had developed a sibling rivalry, always fighting over ownership to seungcheol's heart (and wallet). the two of you would banter often, claiming that there was only space in seungcheol's heart for one of you.

"i was here first!", jeonghan would smirk

"but im the one he takes to bed," you'd counter.

"are you sure about that?", jeonghan would tease.

and the argument would go on and on as seungcheol rolled his eyes and feigned annoyance at your friendly rivalry.

sometimes you'd be occupied by chan, who would try and entice you into dealing with seungcheol's moods in order for the members to slack off and go play rather than practice.

"c'mon! he likes you, just distract him so we can go get some tteokbokki! we'll bring you some," would promise chan, thinking his friend was none the wiser.

"bring me some soju and we have a deal", you'd always join in on the scheme, knowing your boyfriend could use a break after all.

at other times you'd join him and his friends at the gym, always up for a challenge against the gym rats in the group.

"bet i can deadlift more than you," would challenge mingyu.

"well, no shit, you're like seven feet tall!", you'd counter.

"bet i can deadlift your whole weight", joshua would join in.

"no one's deadlifting my girlfriend!", now seungcheol would intervene.

seungcheol had countless instances in which he would watch from afar and enjoy the view. the fruits of his labor accompanied by all the people who made it there with him, with you being a huge contributor.

in moments like these, there was no way for seungcheol to hide the happiness he felt at having his favorite people be each other's favorites in return. seungcheol wasn't sure what he'd done in his past life to end up here, but he'd do it a thousand times over if it meant this was the outcome every single time.

[spooky-holtz]

You Don't Need To Keep It Hush

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: fluff, VERY suggestive, its so close to being smut

Word Count: 2.7k

Prompt: based on the song 'Toothbrush" by DNCE (cringe, I know)

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There is an undeniable warmth coursing through your body when you finally manage to wake in the morning hours of a spring Saturday. The sun that peeks through the open curtains casts your bedroom in a yellow hue, the glow making the once boring room seem so much more enticing. While this helps the warmth you can feel, there is no doubt in your mind that the main culprit is the body pressed against your back.   

A heavy arm is wrapped around your waist and a soft pair of lips exhale gentle snores onto the smooth expanse of your back. You can’t help but smile as memories of the night before come flooding back. Flashing details of red hair and heavy breaths surge through your mind, the heat that was already coursing through you growing exponentially as you remember the sounds that left the lips currently pressed gently to your spine.   

You can feel the smile that graces your lips before you realize it's even there, a blush creeping across your cheeks as the sight of Melissa’s heaving chest comes straight to the forefront of your mind.   

You had never meant for your relationship with Melissa to end up this way. You had simply started as co-workers, but that’s how it always starts, right? What was the odd weekend catch-up over coffee quickly turned into full-blown meals together and now Melissa is like clockwork, always managing to turn up at your apartment door at 6pm on the dot every Friday after school, a bottle of wine and a bag of take-out under her arm. What started as a way to simply relieve stress after a rather tipsy suggestive conversation during one of those evenings has easily become the best part of your week.  

You’re snapped from your thoughts by the arm around your waist tightening, pulling you closer into the redhead as she lets out a quiet groan.   

“Jesus Christ, couldn’t you have managed to close the curtains properly last night?” she asks, her voice thick with sleep. You let out a laugh, a sharp exhale through your nose as she pushes her face further into your spine to escape the harsh glow of the morning sun.   

“You didn’t even give me chance to, you know that right?” You retort, playfulness laced in your tone.   

Melissa’s manicured nails scratch gently at your bare stomach as she stirs, pondering her next comment. You feel her smile as goosebumps erupt across the flesh of your torso where her hand lays, clearly feeling the effect her touch alone has.   

“Touche,” she says through her sleepy grin, “Can you blame me, though? Those plaid pajama pants you had on last night were extra sexy.”   

You turn your head slightly to look at her over your shoulder, only seeing the mess of red hair that is sprawled across the pillows she insists on keeping in your bed. Before this little arrangement you were quite happy with a single pillow but, of course, Melissa had her way and now the head of your bed is adorned with well over half a dozen pillows for the single night she spends here every week. The sound of soft giggles breaks through your faux-offended silence as she chuckles into the skin of your back before pressing a soft pair of lips between your shoulder blades.  

“I��m just kidding, babe,” she says, her voice still incredibly raspy from the slumber she has just awoken from. Your stomach flips at the little nickname. The giddy feeling you always get whenever Melissa calls you ‘babe’, or ‘hun’, or ‘sweetheart’ never gets old, even if she has been calling you some variation since you met in the teachers’ lounge at Abbott. The words carry an entirely new meaning now than they did a few years ago.  

Even if you aren’t technically in a relationship, you know that her words carry the affection that she shows you in other ways. That same affection is there in the sickly-sweet cup of coffee that waits in front of your seat in the teacher’s lounge every single morning, directly next to the redhead’s Stanley Tucci mug. It’s in the requests to get your classes grouped together during every single Abbott field trip. You see it in the way she’s memorized your take-out order for each restaurant this side of Philly, or the tupperware filled with leftovers that she brings you most days. While you both may not explicitly say that you love each other, you hope that these actions speak so much louder than words possibly could.   

“You’re an asshole, I hope you know that,” you say, breaking the growing tension between you. You feel her lift her head from the pillow, the hand that rests against your stomach pulling to roll you onto your back so you can get a real look at her face.   

Her chin is resting on her hand, propped up against the soft mattress and awaiting your gaze. You can’t help but be taken aback by just how beautiful she is. The sun reflects off her fiery hair, giving it a golden tint that creates a halo around her head. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she teases you, knowing exactly what to say to invoke a reaction from you, only so she can soothe the ‘hurt’ a few seconds later.  

“Yeah, but I’m your asshole,” she says, batting her eyelashes that still wear the remnants of yesterday’s mascara, the makeup collecting under her eyes that are impossibly bright despite her sleepy state. You scrunch your nose at the statement. She does nothing but giggle, seeing your immediate disgust – she knows what she’s doing.

You can’t help but feel all traces of negativity leave your system when you feel her relax against you, choosing to move her head from her hand to rest her chin on the soft flesh of your chest. She looks up at you through her incredibly thick eyelashes and you feel your entire demeanour soften within seconds. You let the comfortable silence take over for a few moments, the two of you simply taking each other in. Her head rests against a chaotic pattern of red lipstick stains that cover your skin from the night prior. You can still feel each kiss that left each mark burning your skin.  

“Morning, gorgeous,” you say, a hint of a smile playing at your lips. She rolls her eyes at the nickname, but the blush that spreads rapidly across her cheekbones and down the milky expanse of her chest reminds you just how much she loves being called that. She’s propped herself up again, looking down at you with unspoken admiration as your free hand traces patterns up and down her spine. She forgoes words and instead trails her hand up your body to rest against the side of her neck, her nails once again scratching gently at the flesh there.   

She pulls you toward her gently, meeting your lips in the empty space between. She’s careful to use a tenderness that is only reserved for you, gently pressing your lips together while you hum your appreciation for the action into the quiet of the room. She moves languidly against your lips, taking her time to show her affection. You automatically move your hand to cup her jaw, moving her head to deepen the kiss and regain your control. You feel her gasp at the action as she reciprocates hungrily, tracing her tongue against the swollen flesh of your bottom lip. You can’t help but groan quietly against Melissa’s lips, feeling her smirk into the kiss.  

With a newfound satisfaction for your appreciation, Melissa moves away slightly and swings her leg over your waist coming to rest on the other side of your waist. She uses the leverage to straddle your hips completely, trapping you on the bed between her thick, pale thighs. As she pulls back from the kiss to look down at you through curtains of red hair, you can’t help but notice the shift in her energy, the relaxed Melissa you had just seconds ago being replaced by one that has an undeniable hunger in her eyes. It’s the same look you’ve come to recognize every Friday evening, and one that you will never tire of.  

You’re half-hypnotized as you look back at her, a mixture of her incredible beauty and intoxicating actions rendering you useless. She just smirks as you stare at her dumbly, knowing that she has you wrapped around her little finger. You find it incredibly easy to lose yourself in these moments, taking in the wrinkles around her eyes that deepen when she smiles, her bright green eyes never leaving your own.  

She’s looking down at you with a similar admiration, her eyes flitting from your own down to your lips and back. You raise your eyebrow slightly in a silent taunt, inviting her to act as she sees fit.  

She wastes no time in leaning back in, this time bypassing your lips completely and attaching her own to your sharp jawline. Her hands rest on the pillow either side of your head, trapping you in place, as if you had any desire to be free from the situation. Though your eyes are closed with pure bliss, you can feel her mussed red hair tickling against the skin of your chest as she moves one hand to rest against your jawline, maneuvering your head to reach the places she needs to reach.  

You whine as she tilts your head, her lips travelling across your jaw and down the expanse of your neck. She finds the sweet spot underneath your ear and latches to the skin there, the firm grip she has stopping you from moving away from the inevitable mark she will leave there. Covering that on Monday morning is the least of your worries right now, with the only thought coursing through your mind being Melissa’s intoxicating floral scent. You can feel her heavy breathing in your ear as she works, the sound only bringing back welcome memories of the night prior.  

As if she’s reading your thoughts, you feel Melissa’s hips push into yours from where she sits atop you. The feeling of her undeniable arousal on your stomach making your head spin, the hands that rest on her hips guiding her and pushing further into you. You’re given a slight reprieve from the overwhelming sensations as she begins to pull away from your neck, moving her head upwards to look at you properly again.  

“I guess I forgot to say, ‘good morning’”, she says, licking her lips. There is no denying that she knows exactly how to rile you up and you know she’s proud of it with the smug expression she wears. Over the last few months Melissa has learned your body like the back of her own hand, knowing exactly what spots will have you melting at her touch and bending at her mercy. She runs her thumb over your swollen bottom lip from where her hand still sits against your jaw, her strong grip keeping you in place. She looks at you almost expectantly but all you can do is stare back with your mouth slightly agape, wondering exactly what you did to deserve this wake-up call.  

“Jesus Christ Mel, you’re going to have to give me a few minutes before you pull that shit again.” You say, sighing through the sentence.  

You feel her giggle as her face breaks into one of those cheesy grins that you love, her dimples becoming more pronounced as she does so. You don’t think you will ever tire of the bliss and domesticity of your Saturday mornings with Melissa. Even if you aren’t in a ‘real’ relationship, it’s an unspoken rule that she’s not allowed to leave before you can cook her breakfast (or brunch, depending on how long you decide to stay wrapped up in bed together). Sometimes she helps you by chopping fruit or brewing the pot of coffee on the kitchen surface, stealing glances from the other side of your apartment’s small kitchen. 

The comfortable silence is broken by a quiet sigh from the redhead before she begins to move off you.  

“I guess I should probably start getting ready for the day,” she says, swinging her leg back over your hip so her bare feet can reach the cold hardwood floor of your bedroom, “Those papers won’t grade themselves.”  

She picks up your crumpled Blondie shirt from the night before from where it lays discarded on the floor at her feet, pulling it over her head before she shakes her hair out. You can’t help but watch her in awe. She truly makes even the most mundane of tasks seem incredible.  

She moves toward the bathroom as you sit up in bed, wrapping the now warm sheets around your torso to cover the smattering of lipstick stains across your chest that will probably sit there for another few hours. You can hear her as she rummages through her bag, no doubt trying to find the toothbrush she always swears she packed before leaving her own home the evening before. You sit cross-legged as you wait for the rummaging to stop and the sound of running water to start. As if she can hear your thoughts, her head appears in the bathroom doorway, a sheepish smile on her face.  

“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare toothbrush I can borrow, do you?” She asks. Her fingernails drum on the doorframe as you stare back at her, the soft smile on her face relaxing her anxiety radiating from her.  

“Check the cabinet. I bought you one while I was in the grocery store yesterday.” You say, your smile growing wider with the evident relaxation on the redhead’s features. “You can always just leave it here then, ya know? You’ll never have to remember a toothbrush if you already have one at my place.”  

She cracks a grin from where she stands, hand removed from the doorframe and playing with the rings that sit on her fingers. “Thanks, hun,” she says quietly, the sheepish grin back on her features, “I really appreciate it.” 

She disappears again and you can feel yourself slipping away with the easiness of these mornings. There is a domesticity that you’ve found yourself craving since meeting Melissa that you can only find in the Saturday’s you spend together tangled in sheets. You know that there is something more to it but the thought of ruining this near-perfect arrangement stops you from taking the next step with her.  

“Hey, how would you feel about going out for breakfast with me this morning?” You blurt out into the empty room. You can hear Melissa’s actions freeze as the quiet swishing of her new toothbrush against her teeth stills. She pads toward the doorframe again, toothbrush still in hand and foamy toothpaste covering the corner of her mouth. The sight of her makes your heart melt in your chest, knowing that nobody else gets to see her this vulnerable.  

“What, like, out-out?” she asks, her brows furrowed slightly. The question makes your gaze drop to your hands, suddenly incredibly distracted by the way that you’re picking at your cuticles.  

“Yeah, I uh, I thought that maybe we could actually go on a kind of date instead of, you know, just doing this and then not seeing each other until Monday?” You say, more to the bed sheets than to Melissa herself. You’re trying so hard not to be offended by her lack of answer, knowing that even saying anything that could hint toward your real feelings was the worst decision you could have made.  

Before you can decide to get up and remove yourself from the situation you’ve created the bed dips in front of you and a warm hand comes to rest against the side of your face. Melissa is kneeling on the crumpled white sheets that are half-wrapped around you, the grin she’s wearing showing you her newly cleaned teeth. You don’t have a chance to react before her lips are on yours, the redhead’s grin making it impossible for her to kiss you the way she really wants. She holds you delicately, the softness of her actions a sharp departure from the night before.  

It’s a short few seconds before she pulls away and meets her eyes with yours, her chest still heaving from the exertion.  

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

[onyourhyuck]

DEVILISH. | L.DH

— Prologue: “Is the reason you came to my concert looking this pretty to make me fuck you in front of my fans?”

— Summary: Where the infamous rockstar!haechan takes you behind the back stage right before his concert.

— Genre: Musician and Fan with benefits trope. Red flag rockstar!haechan. Forced proximity(?) Ass spanking. Bare backshots. Exhibitionism. There’s just something about red flag Haechan. Fingering (female receiving) Multiple orgasms and overstimulation. Clit play. Degradation.

— Notes: I’ve been seeing a lot of rockstar fics on this platform so I decided to join in on the trope.

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You knew you were playing with a darker force when the man grabbed you by your wrist dragging you to the back stage. You knew he was trouble and that he was going to turn your world upside down from the moment your eyes met. Even if it felt like a dangerous game, you didn’t want to move away from it. You didn’t want to leave him and if anything you gravitate towards him more than before.

He was known as something more. Haechan is a rockstar with a reputation that could make anyone’s skin crawl. Women are on his list to do. Music was the first priority.

The lifestyle he has makes it even harder to date so Haechan often relies on one night stands or something less restricting to live with. You happened to be one of the people he keeps coming back to for more. You’re beautiful without a doubt; but you’re also very enticing and alluring. You know how to get Haechan riled up in the most ‘innocent’ ways.

Innocently attending his concert with the most short dress? Haechan likes to think you’re getting more and more bold with him. He can’t just stand still and ignore what you’re wearing on your body.

It’s why you are pressed against the nearest wall with a hand keeping your shoulder steady in the position. The bottom hem of your dress pulled upwards letting everything become exposed to Haechan’s view. Your soaking panties were a proven point that you did this on purpose to get him completely crazy. It was a turning point for you to see Haechan coming back to his animalistic ways just because you wore a very short beautiful dress that flatters your body so much. It’s driving him crazy when each stroke with his hand creates a squelching wet sound, but the burning sensation keeping his fingers buried in between your two warm walls could make anyone come undone in their boxers instantly.

He sized up against you making sure you’re not going to try and run away from your own highs. You signed up for this and deep down you wanted this, but you are starting to wonder that you tried to bite more than you could chew.

The strokes were anything but gentle, his fingers brushed up and down your wet slit. You aren’t sure how many times you came but you came one too many in your head.

“Fuck. Look at yourself right now.” He cruelly smirks forcing you to look at him with clear vision.

You glanced up at the rockstar who makes your mind go blank, you saw how truly fucked you looked already and he barely got to the real deal.

Cheeks are cherry red, your eyes are widen looking at your own lewd expressions previously. You look so pretty despite your shocked eyes.

He leans closer taking small steps with his hands brushing up to your waist. Haechan was so excited to get you even more of a mess before the concert begins.

In reality he doesn’t have much time left. Therefore he doesn’t waste time with you. The problem between his legs can’t wait anymore, even slightest movements your body does when it flinches by the slightest kisses planting on your side of the neck made him smile.

You’re sensitive beyond belief. Every part of your body was dripping wet.

Watching the dress on you he can’t get over how short it was. He swore the first time he saw you wearing it earlier he saw your cheeks hanging out and that was enough to make Haechan have hands on you.

“Cum on my fingers right now.” He vows into your ears while you’re sucking in your stomach with each loud pant.

You’re unable to breathe right away, the harsh slapping of his palm hitting your stretched out with his two middle fingers deeply buried in your walls is making you tremble. You couldn’t speak out, you couldn’t even moan, you felt your breathing becoming heavy and rough.

It was multiple signs showing you’re reaching your very end limit. The overstimulation was finally getting to you and it was a heavenly sight for Haechan.

“Fuck, oh god, Haechan slow down—”

“Come on you can take it, don’t tell me to slow down now.” He grins. You never once complained before so why complain now?

The rockstar with the most devilish expression watching you coming undone on his hand with your remaining cum spilling out on his fingers pulling out of your abused cunt. He brings it forward licking the slit clean while letting out low moans at the taste of you on his tongue.

The sight of your panting chest grows on Haechan, he can never get enough of you becoming a whole mess for him and only him. The thing is he loves it when you get like this. Haechan loves seeing you underneath him where he can see you looking so vulnerable.

Bringing you closer he rolls more of the dress up and suddenly brings his hands down your lower back, you didn’t have time to recover from such a high orgasm because he kissed you intensely.

Taking your breath away once again. He slims down his tongue so he could suck on your bottom lip and then bites down gently pulling it.

You whine closing your eyes tightly and then his hands go more low down to grope your ass tightly. He gives your right ass cheek a little spank.

“Turn around for me darling and lean against that wall with your arms stretched out.”

Shit, you thought.

“Now? Right now?”

Haechan wants to take you right now? He has less than fifteen minutes even and you’re beginning to wonder if it was worth it to tease him with this new dress.

You definitely tried to bite more than you could chew with him right now.

You felt him leaning in to your face with a look in his eyes that told you to do it otherwise he will put you into that position that’s going to be consequences for you. You were spun around immediately with your elbows stretching out to that nearby wall in front of you. You’re unable to focus on anything else but the panties you had on where now stripped down to your ankles. Haechan spanked your ass one more time before groping it.

He began to wonder,,

“Is the reason you came to my concert looking this pretty to make me fuck you in front of my fans?”

The question caught you off guard. Sound of your heart pumping so much just by looking for an answer in your head, you tried to deny it. But that would be a lie if you didn’t like the idea of being known as Haechan’s lover or hookup. You would love it if his fans knew who you were.

The things you guys get up to behind the scenes.

Maybe you’re growing greedy but you don’t like the idea of the playboy rockstar being with someone else. Haechan hardly goes back to someone for more rounds but with you he found himself growing attached and fond.

You’re fun to be around with, and you let him use you without a complaint.

You bite your lip. “Yeah. That’s right.”

Hearing you confirming his exact thoughts he smirks dropping the white ripped jeans off with the belt unbuckled. The solid hard shape pressed up on your beautiful shaped ass makes his eyes widen. Purposely he pressed the tip leaking with precum up and down motion on your back down to the weak entrance itching to take all of him.

“You’re such a whore, but you already know that.” Haechan coos down leaning his stomach now by your back while he placed the flat palm on your stomach under.

Your bodies are pressed together, with a long liner of his erected cock creeping in your folds now. Burning sensation growing minute by minute in your stomach you found your knuckles curling up in response as Haechan thrusts forward.

You let him use you in so many ways it makes Haechan addicted to you.

And you’re getting addicted to his devilish ways.

Pursing warmth of your arousal leaking out with each time the cock’s tip nuzzles at your upcoming pink womb makes this so much more inflicting to your thoughts that became cloudy. Your mouth drops by the increase of Haechan’s hips pivoting towards your body non-stop. It’s like he won’t be stopping until he has your knees going weak on the ground. He won’t stop until you’re dizzy or passed out — at least that is what it feels like right now.

He doesn’t care about anything else right now but doing exactly this.

When the movements became hardy he caressed down your back with his hands touching your breasts exposed out that jiggle between your rocking body with the cock deeply buried in your wet cunt. You probe your incoherent noises out more when Haechan teased the nipples forth his fingertips. Brushing his lips over your neck behind he sucks on your beautiful clean smelling skin. The perfume you used was visible on the tongue once he tasted you. He drags down the waist even more having your walls clench to take shape of his deeply latching cock head hitting at the far back of your womb wanting to reach your deeper depths.

Sucking on your skin leaves you with all sorts of marks that he found so wrongly beautiful on you it felt forbidden at the same time it feels morally correct. Haechan knew this could get a scandal going on but did he care at that moment? No.

Between your legs widening even more the jelly feeling on your knees began to grow visible and your thighs shake as you feel your stomach start to violently twitch while the growing muscles on your body contract. The hands on the wall supporting you start to break and crumble as did your own expression. You couldn’t hold back your tears as this pose you’re in made you so much sensitive.

Haechan didn’t want to stop just yet. Bringing down that hand on your stomach he sweeps it even further away to rub your clit in circle movements.

Your eyes widen as Haechan teased the red swollen clit causing more of your walls to clench to his shape causing him to deeply grunt with each fast thrusting, you feel beyond amazing it made each air coming out like pants.

“Shitshit keep clenching like that baby, you might make me cum inside you.” He warned you with his droopy glares due to how much pleasure he is consuming from you.

The hand rubs in fast motions on your pussy now slapping it a few times when you’re starting to whine out. Becoming full and stuffed of his cock was one thing but becoming overstimulated with both different ways at once?

It was something you weren’t ready for.

“Fuck, please have mercy on me I won’t last long if you keep doing this to me—”

“Good.” He cuts you off with a deep breathy chuckle. “Cum on my cock. Make me feel you.” He trails down gripping your hip with the free hand rocking you down making sure your ass was right pressed on the abdomen while his cock searched ways going even more deep in you.

Hitting a different spot you grew so worn out you’re seeing blackouts randomly and his hand abusing your clit didn’t make it any better.

You knew that you were getting close to orgasm when your vision was lacking.

“H-Haechan I’m…”

Holding back your cries as tears pour down your cheeks so did your juices down your thighs and Haechan’s throbbing manhood in your womb releasing his seed into your body. It is a warm filling of becoming stuffed like a toy. You feel your voice crack and then becoming silent.

There was lingering silence before Haechan remained quiet when he was gaining back the strength as him filling you up was so overwhelming it made all senses go blank.

“Atta’ good girl.” He smirks while leaving you turn around with your wobbly legs.

Then next few minutes you finally pull your panties back on and the dress while you’re looking like a complete wrecking mess. Nonetheless you notice Haechan pulling up his white jeans and buckling the belt back on.

You’re wiping your tears that fell down your cheek as you’re in disbelief that you actually cried. However what caught you by surprise the most was something else.

His signature smile he has on while watching you wipe your face haunts you.

The man standing before you was everything you could ever think about and breath in. He was something you grew to obsess with. And now you’re in a deeper hole than before.

Haechan smirks coming forward towards you and lifting your head by the chin with his finger. “Next time I’ll have you cry even more. This was just an appetiser darling.”

You’re unsure what you got yourself into but those Devilish eyes are telling you it will be the end of you.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <3

[gay-dorito-dust]

HII!! CAN U DO A PAVITR PRABHAKAR X READER WHERE THEY SHARE THEIR FIRST KISS (OR READERS FIRST KISS, WHATEVER YOU WANT!!!) AKISISSJSJ IDK WHAT TO REQUEST CAUSE ITS MY FIRST REQUEST LMFAO - 🧑🏽‍🔧

I hope this wasn’t absolute arse as I started like some of this late in the night so there are probs inconsistencies.

‘It’s so obvious that they like each other but due to their assumptions that the other will reject them, they look for the same love in other people, only to be drawn back together because there’s no one who could love them quite like them.’ Pavitr said from your side as you both were indulging in some much needed free time by catching up on episodes of a recent show that you’ve missed. It was a great way to pass the time when nothing else of interest seemed to entice you, plus it was made even better when you got to spend it with Pavitr and his commentary regarding the love interests that you’ve grown to find endearing overtime.

‘We’ve seen this trope happen so many times in the other shows we’ve watched before this.’ You replied, looking over at him, knowing wholeheartedly that you’ve just provoked the preverbal bear, but that didn’t matter as to hear Pavitr speak passionately about something he felt so deeply made you admire him in ways you didn’t know you could.

‘It’s a fail proof formula that wins out every time!’ Pavitr exclaims before sighing dreamily as his mind began to wander amidst his many thoughts, ‘besides who doesn’t want to experience a love like that? a love that your willing to go through trial and tribulation for because you could never truly give your heart to someone else when they had their name carved into the very essence of your being by just smiling, by just being unapologetically them in all their flaws.’ Pavitr stopped midway through his speech to smile softly to himself when imagines of you popped in the forefront of his mind, it made him feel nostalgic and in a way it made him miss your presence despite you being right next to him.

Pavitr was a romantic at heart and so too did he naturally speak from it also, but due to the fact that you were just really good friends made him a little hesitant in pursuing you under the pretences that you didn’t feel the same way that he had for while now. Pavitr knew he couldn’t control his heart the moment it began picking up it’s pace within your presence, only to gradually pick up even more with the slightest things you did that he adored or moved in closer proximity to him to the point he thought he was going to pass out; fortunately for Pavitr he didn’t, sitting on elevated structures was dangerous enough but sitting on elevated structures whilst on the verge of potentially passing out wouldn’t have made for a great combination.

Despite experiencing the universal fear of rejection, it never truly stopped Pavitr from being close to you as humanly possible. After all you’re his best friend first and he’d be damned to let his romantic attachment and his fear create a rift between you two, which is why the now tradition of binge watching dramas was created for it gave him the opportunity to spend time with you; being Spider-man was amazing in and of it’s own but what wasn’t amazing was the fact that he wasn’t given as much time with you as he wanted, Mumbattan needed it’s hero but he, Pavitr Prabhakar, not Spider-Man, needed you more.

‘It’s a love many people desire but don’t have willpower to go through with as it tends to possess the ability to overwhelm them and become suffocating but it shouldn’t be that way when you’re in love.’ He explained and you listened intently to every word that fell from his lips that you’ve been transfixed on for the majority of his speech. ‘Love is an all encompassing force that can make you feel a multitude of emotions but you know when a love is right when they make you feel as though you can do anything, be anything, become anything with unbiased judgment. Real love is accepting that they are human and are bound by mistakes, real love is being the others hero but most of all real love is just two souls growing a deeper affection for humanity’s inner beauty.’ He finished, looking at you with a smile.

‘That was beautiful Pavitr.’ You tell him, ‘I know your a sucker for romance but that was especially impassioned,’ you nudged his arm in an act of playful banter despite hearing the sound of your heart breaking over having lost the boy you liked who wasn’t yours to have feelings for because like he said you could never truly give your heart to someone else when they had their name carved into the very essence of your being. ‘So…who’s the lucky person that’s made your heart sing like a canary?’ You mentally applauded yourself for being able to made it through that entire sentence without cracking from under the inevitable heartbreak you were about to experience.

Pavitr, ever the opportunist, saw the chance to admit his hearts deepest desire, sure the setting could’ve been a little better that what he had in mind but Pavitr was willing to work with whatever he was given to his advantage. So he grabbed ahold of your hands and given them a tight, comforting squeeze as he made sure to keep eye contact with you when he said his next words over the sound of his racing heart; ‘it’s you, you taught me how beautifully terrifying love can be when in the face of rejection but once upon a time you told me that it’s better to have tried then to have never have tried at all.’ You did in fact remember telling him that when he once asked you what he should do if he ever developed a crush and wanted to ask them out, which at the time only slightly stung in comparison to the overwhelmingly excruciating pain of self deprivation along with ever other human emotion attacking your sense.

Despite the verbal confirmation, you still were in a state of doubt and insecurity that it made it hard for you to believe the reality of his words no matter how hard your heart was telling you to. ‘Why me though? I’m not that special.’ Is your response and the way Pavitr’s face seemed to drop only made your fears all the more real, here he was bearing his heart out to you in a way that you could’ve only conjured up in your dreams and yet you still had to find some way to ruin it by doubting his genuine feelings. ‘Not that special?’ Pavitr repeated, his upset becoming more evident but it wasn’t in due to you but more so towards the fact that you didn’t hold yourself to the same standard that he did; which was pretty damn high. ‘Not that special?’ He repeats again, ‘you’re more then special! To me, you’re the reason the stars are hung in the sky, you’re the reason flowers bloom, birds sing in the morning and why I awake with a smile upon my face and fresh breath in my lungs. To me you’re the reason for my happiness, for my hope for the future and for my beating heart that quickens upon seeing you.’

Pavitr then went onto prove this point by pulling one of your hands that he has in his grasp towards his chest where you could feel it’s quickened pace branch your fingertips. ‘See?’ He tells you, keeping your hand against his chest, ‘that’s because of you and you still don’t think you’re special when your everything I could ever think about? I miss you when your not here but miss you even more when you are because we’re not as close as I’d like us to be but that’s not something I wish to put upon you if it’s not what your heart desires.’ He finished and you couldn’t help but start to tear up, from his impassioned speech to his unwavering acceptance to the possibility of you not feeling the same, only further proved to you how much of a beautiful soul Pavitr Prabhakar was and how fucking lucky you were to be able to know him as deeply as you did.

There was so much going off inside your head that the only response that you could come up with was; ‘Just kiss me already.’ And within a matter of seconds Pavitr had both hands cupping your cheeks as he leant in and pressed his lips firmly against yours, which had you both smiling giddily at the warmth spreading throughout your body as your lips continued to press and weave against one another in such sweet tandem; that at some points you almost forgot to pull apart for air but when you did remind yourselves that you had lungs that were in desperate need of oxygen. You didn’t dare stray too far from one another as Pavitr pressed his forehead against yours, eyes stilled closed and a dopey, lovey smile gracing his lips.

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to top your confession speech but I hope something as simple as this is enough because I like you too Pavitr Prabhakar.’ You whispered against his lips, ‘I like you a lot that when you’d talk about your crush it’d hurt but now knowing what I do now, the brief moment of pain I felt pales in comparison to the light, warm, comforting sensations I get when I’m only with you. For it was all worth this very moment.’ You finished before stealing a cheeky peck from his lips; causing him to whine when you pulled back. ‘No, give me a proper kiss.’ You chuckled but obliged to his requested and gave him a proper kiss to the lips, though this time Pavitr’s hands moved to your waist and your hands took to cupping his cheeks and soon you were back to feeling that lighthearted and warmth place.

[tulipatheticee]

labyrinth

anthony bridgerton x fem! reader

synopsis; anthony bridgerton had swore off love, but after meeting miss y/n l/n, he couldn't keep himself away. after a talk with his mother he now has to navigate his feelings to courting the owner of his heart

word count; 2.0k

master list

a/n; this was meant to be a benedict fic but my friend (who picked the song tysm) had a brain wave that labyrinth is so anthony coded

as always, kinda proof read, kinda not :p

It only hurts this much right now

Was what I was thinking the whole time

Breathe in, breathe through

Breathe deep, breathe out

Since the news that Viscount Lord Anthony Bridgerton was searching for a wife this social season had spread, he had all the ladies vying for his attention. He was very clear with himself that he most definitely did NOT want a love match. After witnessing the devastating effects of losing a loved one, he had completely sworn off it. He simply wanted a wife who would be a good viscountess, a good mother, and overall a proper, standard wife. But once he became acquainted with Miss Y/N, he was immediately enticed by her. The more he saw her, the more he spoke with her, the more he wanted her. She consumed his thoughts; he couldn't even sleep without thinking of her. She clouded his mind, his dreams, his vision. In an attempt to clear the cloud of her, he began to avoid her with all his might.

Anthony Bridgerton would NOT fall in love. But as he spent time away from her, he found himself missing her, her smile, her wit, her kind eyes, her humour, her. His resolve wavered with each passing day, the emptiness left by her absence growing unbearable. Every time he saw her across a crowded room, his heart ached with longing. The thought of another man capturing her attention, sharing moments that should have been his, filled him with a deep, unspoken dread. He realised, with a mix of frustration and inevitability, that denying his feelings was futile. She had become an integral part of his life, whether he admitted it or not.

I'll be getting over you my whole life

You know how scared I am of elevators

Never trust it if it rises fast

It can't last

The Bridgerton family estate was quiet in the early morning light, the stillness broken only by the distant sound of birdsong. Anthony sat alone in his study, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. His father's death had left a void in his life, one that he had tried to fill with duty and obligation. But lately, that void has been filled with thoughts of Y/N.

He remembered the first time he had seen her, her laughter lighting up the room as she danced with her friends. She had seemed so free, so unburdened by the worries that plagued him. He had been drawn to her from the start, but he had kept his distance, afraid of what he might feel.

"It only hurts this much right now," he had told himself, trying to convince his heart to stay guarded.

But the more he saw of Y/N, the harder it became to ignore his feelings. She was everything he had ever wanted, and everything he had sworn to avoid. He knew he couldn't keep running from his emotions forever.

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. Anthony looked up to see his mother, Violet, standing in the doorway.

"Good morning, Anthony," she said, her voice gentle.

"Good morning," he replied, trying to smile.

Violet walked into the room, her eyes filled with concern. "You've been so distant lately. Is something troubling you?"

Anthony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's nothing, Mother. Just the usual worries."

Violet sat down beside him, her expression softening. "Anthony, I've known you all your life. I can tell when something is truly bothering you. Please, talk to me."

Anthony hesitated, the words caught in his throat. He had always been the strong one, the one who held the family together. Admitting his feelings felt like a betrayal of that role.

"It's Miss L/N," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Violet's eyes widened in surprise. "Miss Y/N? What about her?"

"I... I think I'm falling for her," Anthony admitted, his heart pounding in his chest. "But I'm afraid. Afraid of what it might mean, of what it could lead to."

Violet's expression softened even further. "Oh, Anthony. Love is always a risk, but it's a risk worth taking. You can't spend your life running from it."

Anthony looked down, his hands trembling. "But what if it doesn't last? What if it only brings pain?"

"That's a chance we all take," Violet said gently. "But you'll never know if you don't let yourself feel. Miss L/N is a wonderful woman, and I can see how much she cares for you. Don't let fear keep you from something beautiful."

Anthony took a deep breath, the weight on his chest lifting just a little. "Thank you, Mama. I needed to hear that."

Violet smiled, her eyes filled with love. "Anytime, my dear. Now, go find Miss Y/N and tell her how you feel. You might be surprised at what happens."

Anthony nodded, feeling a newfound sense of determination. He stood up, ready to face his fears head-on.

Uh oh, I'm falling in love

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

Oh, I'm falling in love

The ball was in full swing, the grand hall filled with the laughter and chatter of London's elite. Y/N stood near the edge of the dance floor, her heart pounding as she watched Anthony Bridgerton move throughout the room. She tried to focus on her breathing, but it did little to calm the feeling inside her.

Anthony, was the epitome of charm and responsibility. His presence commanded attention, and Y/N couldn't help but be drawn to him. She sighed, feeling the weight of unspoken emotions pressing down on her. How did she end up here, so lost in the labyrinth of her own mind?

For Anthony, the evening was a blur of polite conversation and obligatory dances. Since his becoming Viscount, the mantle of responsibility had weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had little time for silly pursuits, and even less patience for the entanglements of love. Yet, despite his best efforts, he found his gaze drawn to Miss Y/N L/N time and time again.

As if sensing his turmoil, Y/N glanced in his direction. Their eyes met, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Anthony took a deep breath and made his way toward her, weaving through the crowd with ease. His feet were moving against his mind's wishes, yet he still did not want to stop walking towards her.

"Miss L/N," he greeted, his voice warm and familiar. "You look lovely tonight."

"Thank you, Lord Bridgerton," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "You look quite handsome yourself."

They stood in silence for a moment, the noise of the ball fading into the background. Anthony struggled to find the right words, to express the feelings he had been denying for so long.

"Would you care to dance?" he finally asked, extending his hand.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before placing her hand in his. "I'd love to."

As they moved to the centre of the dance floor, Anthony felt a sense of calm wash over him. Holding Y/N in his arms, he realised just how much he had been fighting against his own heart. The music swirled around them, and for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to simply feel.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" Y/N asked softly, her eyes searching his.

Anthony sighed, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. "I've been a fool, Miss L/N. I've been trying to protect myself from something I thought would only bring me pain."

"And what is that?" she pressed, her voice gentle but insistent.

"Love," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I've seen what it can do, how it can hurt. I thought I was better off without it."

Y/N's expression softened, and she reached up to touch his cheek. "Love can be painful, Lord Bridgerton. But it can also be the most beautiful thing in the world. You just have to be willing to take the risk."

Anthony stared into her eyes, feeling a sense of clarity he hadn't experienced in years. "I don't want to be afraid anymore, L/N. I don't want to spend my life running from something that could make me truly happy."

"Then don't," she whispered. "Take the leap. I'm right here with you."

At that moment, Anthony knew he had to let go of his fears. He had to embrace the love he felt for Y/N, no matter how terrifying it might be. As the music came to an end, he had to use all his willpower to not lean down and pressed a hungry kiss to her lips in front of all the ton, in the middle of a ballroom, sealing his promise to her and to himself. But he was a gentleman and would never do such (or even more) to a woman like Y/N, no, he would have to wait to do that, and what a task that was proving to be.

I thought the plane was going down

How'd you turn it right around

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

The Next Afternoon

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

It only feels this raw right now

Lost in the labyrinth of my mind

Break up, break free, break through, break down

You would break your back to make me break a smile

Anthony found Y/N in her garden, her favourite place to escape the hustle and bustle of the ton. She was sitting on a bench, her eyes closed as she listened to the sounds of nature. He had gone over to her family's estate with the intention of asking to officially court her, after a rather intimidating conversation with her father, he took a deep breath and walked over to her.

"Miss L/N," he said softly.

She turned around and smiled when she saw him. "Lord Bridgerton! What brings you out here?"

"I needed to talk to you," he said, his heart pounding. "About us."

Y/N's smile faded, her expression turning serious. "What about us?"

Anthony sat down beside her, his hands trembling. "I know I've been distant, and I know I've been distant from you. But I can't keep running from my feelings. I... I care about you, Miss L/N. More than I ever thought possible."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth opened to say something, but no words came out.

"I know it's sudden," he continued, his voice filled with emotion. "But I can't keep denying how I feel. I want to be with you, Miss L/N. I want to take that chance”

Y/N's eyes widened as she reached out and took his hand. "Oh, Anthony. I've been waiting for you to say that."

Anthony's heart swelled with emotion as he pulled her into his arms. "After last night at the ball I’ve been thinking a lot..and I'm willing to face whatever comes our way, as long as we're together. And I feel it is safe for me to say you can say the same thing."

Y/N smile went all the way to her eyes, her heart filled with joy. "I really can, Lord Bridgerton. And I'm ready to take that chance with you."

You know how much I hate that 

everybody just expects me to bounce back

Just like that

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

A Few Weeks Later

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

Uh oh, I'm falling in love

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

Oh, I'm falling in love

The sun was setting over Bridgerton House, casting a warm golden glow over the estate. Anthony and Y/N stood together on the terrace, watching as the last rays of light dipped below the horizon.

"I never thought I'd find someone like you," Anthony said softly, his arm wrapped around Y/N's waist. "Someone who makes me feel like this."

Y/N smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. "And I never thought I'd find someone who could make me feel so safe and loved."

Anthony's heart swelled with love as he kissed the top of her head. "I'm so glad we took that chance, Y/N. You mean everything to me."

"And you mean everything to me," Y/N replied, her voice filled with emotion.

As they stood together, watching the stars come out one by one, Anthony knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together. He had found his way out of the labyrinth of his mind, and into the arms of the woman he loved.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt truly at peace.

I thought the plane was going down

How'd you turn it right around

a/n pt2; i have mixed feelings about this one I DONT KNOWWW

[radiant-reid]

just saw the post abt having to explain to spencer the talking stage then an actual relationship and how he overhears her telling someone she doesnt hv a bf maybe a blurb/fic on that idea?

Spencer steals glances at you every morning while you make your coffee and chat with Emily. It's so apparent to everyone what he's doing that JJ and Morgan have taken to stealing things off his desk, seeing how much they can take before he notices.

One day, when you're walking back to your desk you make a comment that has his interest piqued even more. "No, I don't have a boyfriend at the moment. I'm enjoying being single."

Spencer's heart sinks at your words, his mind instantly conjuring images of your dates. Dates that should mean he's your boyfriend, right? So why are you telling everyone you're single?

His head is spinning with confusion, and it's turning to anger pretty quickly. Are you ashamed to be with him? Surely if you're enjoying being single, that means you're dating other people or that you're not even interested in him.

He can't believe it, his emotions swinging from anger to sadness. It's unbelievable and you're breaking his heart.

Before you're even sitting down, Spencer's getting up and rushing to the bathroom to calm his racing heart rate before he has to be sick.

Your conversation doesn't even remain in your mind while you continue your day. What feels odd is Spencer freezing you out. Usually, on boring paperwork days, Spencer will tell you fun facts or dumb science jokes just to break up the repetitive work and horrific nature of your files.

He doesn't. Not a single comment comes your way, not even when you ask very open-ended science questions, basically inviting him to ramble about his favorite topics. None of it entices him.

His sarcastic remarks come just after lunchtime with a snappy attitude that irritates you. You're worried about him, firstly. Something must be wrong in his personal life to have him like this, but you can't help feeling a little angry that it's all being directed at you.

You were just starting to really like him and now he's turned around and shown you who he really is just because you're arguably who he's closest with. He's quickly becoming not the type of person you want to be with.

When you're the last two people in the bullpen, you realize you can't let him stay there all night. No matter how annoying he is, you're his friend, first and foremost, and he's clearly going through something.

So you approach him. "Hey, do you want to get dinner?" You ask.

"Not with you," Spencer replies coldly and totally uncharacteristically.

That's your breaking point. "What's wrong? Seriously, you've been horrible to me all day and I can't think of anything I've done to offend you."

Spencer sighs and it's weirdly more regretful than angry. "I... do you remember what you said this morning?"

You frown, unsure of what exactly he's referencing. "No?" Then you quickly add, "But I want to make things right."

"You said you didn't have a boyfriend." He feels pathetic saying it. The idea that someone like you would never be interested had been slipping from his mind, but now that concern is at the front of his mind.

You're only more confused then. "I don't."

"I thought I..." His cheeks flame up with embarrassment and he puts on a front of nonchalance. "I thought I was your boyfriend, okay? That's it."

Oh.

You wish you could have given Emily a different answer that morning. You would have proudly told her that Spencer Reid is your boyfriend, but you couldn't.

"You never asked me." You say softly, shuffling awkwardly on your feet.

"Did I need to?" He wonders dumbly, and it's very obvious that he's just unaware.

You shrug, explaining your point of view. "I thought we were still at the talking stage."

"The what?" Spencer asks.

"Like when you're just talking and casually dating, trying to work out if you're friends or if there's a romantic connection." You describe.

He nods softly before his heart sinks again. "I'm sorry, I'm an idiot." You're easily the best thing that's been in his life for a long time, and now he's totally ruined it. If you didn't think he was too inexperienced before, you do now.

"You're not, not provably." You break the awkward silence and tension that's fallen over the room, making him chuckle a little. "And I like you, exclusively."

Spencer's frown is adorable but it's concerning large this time. "Really? Still?"

"Mm-hmm." You assure him. "As long as you promise to talk to me when something's wrong instead of icing me out."

He stands up quickly, nodding. "I swear and I'm really sorry." He promises you. "So would you like to go to dinner? As boyfriend and girlfriend?"

You try to suppress an inappropriately large grin. "I would."

Spencer doesn't hide his smile and he's awkwardly tripping over his bag and feet to meet you around his side of the desk. "Let's do it." He smiles softly at you, offering out his hand for you to hold.

You take it happily, walking to the elevator with him. "Let's do it, boyfriend."

[anika-ann]

Ocaruj me (Bewitch Me) - S.R.

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; drabbl-ish; a part of this pseudo-medieval-fantasy AU

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 2k

Summary: Knight Steven Rogers is a man with love. That love is you. His beautiful lady who bewitched his soul even without the supernatural powers you possess. He'll follow you anywhere.

It that means bathing in a lake in a moonlight, so be it.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, unprotected sex (shocking in medieval times huh), bit of angst, fluff, knight Steve ‘cause he’s a warning, Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Actual title is Očaruj mě (Bewitch Me) ...tumblr cannot handle a "č" and an “ě“ in their title 🙃 DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; inspired by THIS ask (you can find headcanons and a playlist there)

A/N 2: Chronologically fits before the events of Pomiluj mě, but if you read this first, you will spoil some of the reveals.

Magic is a dark evil thing; that is what all knights of the kingdom are reminded during their studies and training.

Magic is the wicked twine that curls around your wrist when you reach out a hand, grips you tight and drags you towards perdition.

Magic takes face of a twisted beauty, a temptress, and leads you down the path of sin with a smile worth of the Devil himself.

Magic only knows curses and wrongs.

Sir Steven Rogers knows these axioms by heart.

Steve knows they are horseshit; or at least fail to fulfil the basic rule of an axiom, which is supposed to be universality.

In Steve’s eyes, people are corrupted by many things, amongst which there is the power that comes with magic. That much is true. But the nature of magic itself is pure; t reveals the person wielding it and amplifies who they already are.

Steve would only agree with part of the axiom second to last, assured whenever he sees you. He would now too, standing near the bank of a lake, still fully clothed, his gaze inevitably drawn to the enticing image in front of him.

You, standing to the waist in the water, dressed in but the luxurious robe of moonlight caressing your skin and wearing the lake like the richest skirt; your hair cascading down freely like an elaborate veil, the commonly dark ink of your tattoo reaching from the side of your neck down your shoulder shinning bright.

When you glance over your shoulder, eyes glimmering more entrancingly than the moon and the stars combined, lips curling in a smile, the last thing Steve would compare you to would be the Devil, a dark evil thing.

The truth, however, is that if you did decide to drag him towards his end, he would follow voluntarily, heart pounding just as hard as it is now, with warmth in his chest and searing heat in is gut.  

When you speak his name, a sweet ‘rytier moj’, you indeed are every bit of a temptress, the seductress steering him toward the most beautiful of sins; but not in the name of evil.

In the name of love.

“How is it that you are not cold, bosorka moja? And by gods, remind me, love, why is it that I should follow?” he asks with a grin on his lips, as if he does not feel every ounce of his body being pulled to you by the alluring image of you alone, by the promise of the feel of your skin under his fingertips, of the taste of your lips, of your wickedly delicate hands touching him in ways no unwed lovers should.

You have told him there was a deeper meaning in bathing in that particular lake on this very night, but as fascinated as he always is by your faiths and magic, you have been convincing him with your lips whispering to his own, causing his memory to be considerably less reliable, his mind much more pliant.

You turn around to face him fully, your watery skirt swirling; Steve’s mouth turns dry at the sight of your stiff nipples and plump breasts, his last reservations dispersing as his pants become uncomfortably tight.

“For this lake is believed to possess supernatural properties, rytier moj. For I know it does,” you remind him gently, your gaze trailing down his body in appreciation as he sheds his cloak, his tunic and pants.

You once told him what you saw when he did and have aided him in recalling it quite frequently.

Beauty.

Strength.

Goodness.

Safety.

Home.

And desires personified.

Steve is only a man; all these are virtues in his mind, privileges, and the one that is not makes him preen all the more.

Dark eyes glimmering in the moonlight, your smile earns a teasing edge even as your words begin with gravity.

“Bathing in the light of the full moon nearest to the summer solstice makes one stronger. Something my knight might appreciate. I know I for sure would, since he insists on recklessly risking his life.”

His own lips curl up, heart humming with tenderness; he is cared for. He is worried about. He is loved. He is not the only one who has the comfort of a lover on their mind. Perhaps it is for ‘lovers’ is not quite the word fit for where his heart quivers in the matter of you and him. Not the only word.

Desire personified.

Gorgeous temptress.

But also beloved.

Láska moja.

Bosorka moja.

Home.

“All knights do, bosorka moja,” he says as he steps into the water, the liquid welcoming him with an unexpected sensation of cold and warmth combined.

Where his skin meets the water, immersed deeper with each tentative step on the invisible rocky floor, he is enveloped with an unfamiliar sensation, the warmth seeping into his skin almost violently, leaving gentle tingling in its wake.

His lungs expand. His heart thunders. His muscles ache until they feel as light as a feather. His large bones seem to harden, his joints feel stronger but pliant. His blood pumps vigorously, forcing a shuddering breath out of his chest.

Well, he’ll be damned; he would be if he wasn’t so blessed. He would never doubt you again. Not that he ever truly did.

You watch him, a hypnotic and hypnotizing gaze, soaked in the satisfaction and desire having thickened your tenderness. Your skin almost glows and Steve understands that his eyes were not deceiving him earlier. He is not the only one absorbing power; yours might be different in nature from his, so different and ethereal, a true force of nature, but a power nevertheless. And as you soaked in the water, your immense power grew further.

“And yet, I have not seen any knight, soldier or mercenary, nor the clumsiest commoner with as many scars, nor I saved them from so many,” you oppose him, still playful; yet, your voice has earned a husky quality Steve is drawn to like a mot to a flame, his steps growing confident.

For almost every step he takes, you take one back, away from him, sinking deeper, hiding your tempting body from his hungry sight. A delightful feigned chase begins, one of which you both know will only end in bodies intertwined. A dance Steve knows, for he has felt its thrill before, for he has danced with you before; he has danced lips to lips, hands to hips, hips to hips, lips attached to your mound with hooded eyes too, senses enveloped with heady primal need, laced with love both corporal and intangible.

It all hums within him, pounds with force bolstered by the magic surrounding him. You feel it too; he reads as much in your features.

“You haven’t seen them naked either,” he notes, a slight smile remaining.

The conversation continues even as it fades.

You hum with a smile of your own, stopping at last as takes three long strides and catches up with you, gazing up at him with a sweet challenge he cannot refuse. “That is true, rytier moj.”

But that is not what your body whispers, already miles ahead when only inches from him.

Touch me, it coaxes him instead.

Hold me.

Love me.

Have me.

Fill me.

Make me sing for you. Only for you.

Do as you crave; I crave the same, just as much.

Who is he to deny a lady? Who is he to deny you, especially when the wordless pleas entice him, please him, echo his own?

The slight prickle of strength reborn, one unknown to ordinary men, still heats his very core, his lips speaking on their own even as his fingers wander with purpose, over the skin of your waist, down your hip, over your belly button, to your sternum, over the swell of your breast, stepping closer to feel your hardened peaks brush against his chest, eliciting a breathy sound of his name amongst his questions.

“What of other blessed nights bathing in this lake? Equinoxes as well?”

Your hands move with purpose too; mapping the constellations of freckles and moles on his body, caressing the planes of strengthened muscle with teasing lightness. Your touch is surprisingly warm, Steve realizes distantly, his head and hands full of you; if he did not know better, if he did not know you were a witch, he would think you an entirely different magical species.   

As you nod and explain, your hand rises above water, stroking over his shoulder – the water follows seemingly effortlessly, swirling and curling around your palm; even as you speak, he shudders under the touch where your hands could not have possibly reached him, not at so many places at once; and yet, every single of these caresses are just as warm, loving and teasing as those of your own fingers.

With how you bended the water to your will, Steve would have thought you were born to do so. He would have thought he found himself a water nymph instead. His breathtaking, enchantingly playful water nymph.

“Bathing in the lake on a new moon nearing the spring equinox breeds rebirth, ridding of all old aches, body and heart,” you explain quietly, intimately, as your fingers tease along the dip along his hips, his own hands grasping your soft flesh with urgency growing. “First new moon after the autumn equinox calls upon the forest spirits, their protection, bringing the wiseness of our ancestors with their blessings.”

Steve’s head is full of you; your words, almost fairy-tale like, but spoken with reverence of a person who knows them true, whose rituals has called upon the forces of nature and has been rewarded for it, blessed by them.

His hands are full of you too and as his heart sings.

The rest of his body vibrates with need, impatient fingers slipping lower, towards your core, teasing alongside your slit. Even as he asks the only natural question, his focus is elsewhere, fingertip dipping into your welcoming heat, his lips whispering against yours, your hips eagerly meeting his touch.

“And what of winter solstice, bosorka moja? Tell me,” he coaxes, revelling in your playful touch turning into a grip on his hip instead, other hand wrapping around his own to urge him to sink his finger deeper, for another to join.

Who is he to deny you again? His bewitching water nymph, whose heat would envelop him just as welcomingly as the water of the lake and fill him with just as much exceptional powerful sensation...

Love her.

Take her.

Protect her.

Make her mine.

“It keeps your heart warm,” you sigh, mouth chasing after his, fingertips finally brushing over his hardness, curling around the length and squeezing and twisting enough for his strained muscles to melt, rushing to lift your leg to wrap around his waist, opening you up for him, your taste, your scent, your husky voice like the most tempting trap he rushes into with vigour and pride. “Keeps your love safe. On the full moon close--- oh Steve— closest to the solstice- preserving it even through the— the harshest of winters----Steven!

The steady movements of his fingers stutter at the needy pulsing grip around them, eliciting another and another, his thumb brushing over your clit, mouth slanting over yours to swallow your cries of ecstasy, cradling your head to his as your hips keep rocking into his hand. You’ll feel like heaven, like you always do, but the burst inside him at feeling your pleasure coaxed by him is almost, almost enough.

“I’ll be here,” he promises against your lips, kissing you again, tipping your head back, your body so gorgeously pliant to his greedy touch. “I will be here, with you, every quarter a year. Every month, every day, love.”

“Ľubim ťa,” you gasp and Steve makes another promise, to not meet you here, but bring you. Bring you from your shared home at last, because even by the damn equinox, he will have done you right, a ring on your finger, his everything made yours, as you deserve.

“Ľubim ťa, bosorka moja,” he whispers back, a chuckle escaping him when his eyes flutter open, offered a sight of soft sprinkles and curls of water rising above the surface and glimmering in the moonlight.

Your magic exploding outside of you as pleasure fills your veins.

Steve is certain it will never cease to amaze him; or spur him to coax something even more fascinating when chasing his own peak and yours together, even as that alone is a gift he cherishes.

Your hands slide to his shoulders for leverage as his fingers leave you empty, moving to your bottom to lift you up, sliding in almost effortlessly.    

No words are needed then. As you connect your bodies and souls alike, the water keeps dancing.

You glow behind Steve’s hooded eyes, tattoo shining as bright as your affection, beauty and goodness, a reminder that no, magic could not be further from the darkness in corporal form. In every waking moment, he would swear he has never seen, nor heard, nor felt anything more beautiful and lighter than you, even with a face and voice of a temptress you embody.

The only sin you have led him to, the only speckle of shame on his honour, is the one he will remedy soon and has nothing do with your magical nature.

No, not the Devil; a goddess in your own right.

And you have not cursed him, no. Sir Steven Rogers, tvoj rytier, entirely bewitched, feels blessed.

Other headcanon and playlist

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this universe

Complete masterlist

Terms of endearment from Slovak language: Rytier moj (My knight) Bosorka moja (Witch mine) Láska moja (Love mine) Ľubim ťa (I love you)

I hope you enjoyed, loves 💕 Please consider leaving feedback/reblog/anything if you did 🥰

May April be kind to you 🌼✨

[preet-01]

Since we're getting into fall weather here, I've been watching period pieces. So here's part one of a maxiel renaissance au with artist max

note: I have very little idea of how money worked in renaissance rome so some suspension of belief is needed for that. though it is a very interesting topic to study based on the little research I did - there were so many types of coins in Italy's history and vary based on the duchy

cw: dubious consent, prostitution

word count: 3287

part one ||| part two

Daniel sighs as he looks at the pouch of coins – ten florins and five grossi. It wouldn’t be enough to get groceries, medicine for Mark, and supplies for Oscar’s apprenticeship.

He would need to ration, Mark’s medicine was a necessity. For all Mark says his leg doesn’t pain him, the doctor had been clear that if they wanted Mark to heal properly then the medicine was necessary. It would take four florins to get all the medicine and bandages – leaving him with six florins and five grossi. 

Five florins would get him the supplies for Oscar’s apprenticeship. Signor Cordiani provides most of the materials Oscar needs, but he would need to get his own paper and drawing materials. It also meant that they would need to continue buying the materials as Oscar runs out of them, which left him with one florin and five grossi. 

He could get some vegetables and hopefully, he’d be able to make a stew with the few ingredients they had at home. That should last them a few days. They would have two grossi left which Daniel could give to Oscar just in case he would need to buy snacks whilst at his apprenticeship during the day. 

The journey from the market to their small home is quick. Neighbors greet him with smiles as they have seen him grow from babe in his mother’s belly to the man he now is. Girls giggle and wave, while men either avert their gazes or leer. Though the girls will do no more than giggle and wave, he is handsome, yes, but he has no money. Or at least not enough to entice any girl into marriage with him. And certainly not when he’s dedicated much of his adulthood so far to taking care of his brothers – marrying him would mean helping him take care of a younger brother who was being apprenticed and an older, bedridden brother. 

Oscar is already home when Daniel gets there. Busy mending his cloak, he doesn’t notice Daniel until the door shuts. Scraps of fabric and thread rest on the table next to Oscar, Daniel will need to buy stronger thread and warmer fabric soon as the warm sunny days become cold dark nights sooner and sooner with each passing day. 

“I’m sorry,” Oscar mumbles when he looks at the meager groceries and abundant supplies for his apprenticeship with Signor Cordiani.

“Don’t be,” Daniel says. He tries to smile at his little brother so he may reassure him that everything is fine and they are not extremely tight on money at the moment. He needed to be the strong one among the three of them, he needed to take care of his brothers. Mark’s injury kept him chained to the bed with only a few moments of walking every day and Oscar was yet young but the only one of the three of them who had the potential to make a name for himself. So he needed to be strong and work whatever jobs he got to provide for his brothers. “Signora Carini will be giving me an advance on my monthly wages soon,” he lies. It won’t be an advance on anything since Daniel does not have a set wage, he gets paid based on how many clients he has, on how many jobs he takes. “Could you go get water from the well? It was not on my way here,” he asks. 

Oscar nods and goes to get some water. Meanwhile, Daniel heads to Mark’s room with the medicine and bandages in hand. Mark is where he had been when Daniel went to work in the morning. Though able to walk a few steps with a cane, the pain in his leg kept him stuck on the bed. 

“You didn’t need to buy that. My leg barely even hurts anymore,” Mark grumbles when he sees the items in Daniel’s hands, “the coin could’ve been spent on something else.” Daniel simply raises his brow when Mark winces as he tries to sit up on the bed. Mark had turned to metal work instead of becoming a vendor when their parents were still alive – metalworkers made more money than vendors. 

The accident happened a few months ago. 

A scalding pot filled with liquid metal had fallen on Mark’s leg. Though the liquid metal hadn’t touched his skin, the heaviness of the pot had broken Mark’s leg and it had burned his skin. The healing process, the doctor has told them, would be slow. Their household had gone from two incomes to one at possibly the worst time ever, not that Daniel would say such a thing to his brothers. 

He couldn’t bear to witness their guilty looks or have Oscar not follow his dreams to help Daniel. 

Without another word, Daniel peels back the bandages he had done in the morning with the little bit of medicine they had left. Slowly, he cleans the wounds, trying his best to not hurt Mark or worsen the injury. “I spoke to Lucia,” Daniel brings up.

“Hmh?” 

“Oscar’s apprenticeship starts soon and you will need someone to help with your leg,” Daniel says, “she’s agreed to come by once every day to check in and make sure you do your daily walk.” 

“Daniel-” 

“Please, just go along with it for my sake? I worry,” Daniel cuts him off. Mark sighs but nods. Daniel knows that Mark isn’t happy about it, but for Daniel’s sake will do it. 

________

Daniel had wanted to explore. 

With a desire for adventure and a wish to see the world, Daniel spent much of his younger years studying cartography. He had been good at it. 

He’d been sixteen when their parents died. It had started as a fever spreading through the city. They’d all gotten it at one point or another, but while they pulled through, their parents hadn’t. Mother was the first to die and his father’s will to survive had lessened until he joined her. 

All hopes of his dreams and aspirations died along with them. There really was no other option. 

Oscar was just a child, barely eight years old and unable to understand what had happened to their parents. Mark, while older, had to work even more than he previously did. With longer hours and more time spent working, he couldn’t raise Oscar. Nor could they afford to pay someone to look after Oscar. 

So Daniel stowed his maps in a chest. Hiding them out of sight but unable to part from something he had loved so much. He’d suppressed his wanderlust and turned his attention to raising his little brother. 

He took menial jobs while Oscar was at lessons with other children in their neighborhood. Three to five-hour jobs with little stability so he could earn some money to lessen Mark’s stress and take care of food expenses. He’d done that until he landed on the doorstep of Signora Carini’s artists’ workshop. 

It’d started innocently. Signora Carini needed a male model for her workshop and he fit the ideal description. Classes at the workshop only lasted a few hours and there was stability. A consistent flow of coins helped them save money for Oscar’s tuition as he grew older. They couldn’t afford anything extravagant, but life was comfortable. 

Everything was okay until Mark’s accident. Daniel had thought about returning to his cartography and contacting his old tutor. He’d started to dream again of leaving the streets of Rome to see the world beyond what he knew. 

But leaving Rome was not in Daniel’s destiny. He was never going to escape the streets he grew up in. Not anymore. He knew that now. 

“Artists are romantics,” Signora Carini had told him when he went to her after Mark’s accident, “and you, my dear, are very pretty.” 

She had caressed his cheek like his mother used to do when he was younger and led him into a private room some artists rented out when they wanted to work without all the noise. 

Ophelia, one of the other models, was in the room. Moans and the smell of sex filled the room as Matteo, one of the regular artists at the workshop, fucked Ophelia. “What?” Signora Carini kept him there as Matteo fucked Ophelia and left her there with five florins — three more than they earned for being models. 

Matteo was the first to take him. Unlike there had been with Ophelia, there were no pretenses about what would happen when they were in the private room. The canvas went untouched as Matteo painted Daniel’s bare skin with bruises and cum. 

At least Matteo was handsome. Daniel could pretend that it was just another dalliance he had — no different from the men Daniel slept with before. 

Others were not so handsome. Nor did they let Daniel pretend like it was just another casual fuck. They wanted more control. They wanted him to smile prettily and let them move his limbs all under the guise of setting him in the perfect pose for a painting that would take thrice the time it should to be finished. 

“You’re much prettier than the girls the Signora has,” the man, Lorenzo, says between grunts. Daniel doesn’t say anything, just fakes a moan as he thinks of all he would need to do once he gets home. Mark should be taking his evening nap and Oscar off at his apprenticeship, giving Daniel enough time to bathe and wipe away any evidence of the things he’d done. If he was fast enough, he’d be able to have dinner on the table before Oscar got home. 

Thankfully the man doesn’t finish inside of him. Most did not listen to that request, too lost in taking their own pleasure. “Same time next week,” the man says when he’s leaving. Five florins rest on the table next to Daniel when he finally has the wherewithal to get up and wipe himself clean for the time being. 

Depositing the coins in his pouch, he goes about cleaning the room and storing the half-complete sketch for next week. 

Daniel is setting up the easel when his next client is let in. “No need for pretenses,” the man says, stopping him. “How many clients have you had today?” He questions. 

“Four already, Master Alberto,” Daniel answers. 

“Oh Daniel, my brightest pupil,” Alberto says, reaching forward to caress his cheek before pushing off the robe. “You would have made an excellent cartographer, but being a whore is your true calling,” he continues. 

Daniel doesn’t moan this time around. Just lays there as the man once meant to teach him the ways of cartography now charts a course of bruises and bites on his skin. He had never liked Daniel making much noise — not when Daniel was his student and certainly not now that he’s his favorite whore. 

Master Alberto always liked to enter Daniel when he was on his back, wanting to see the moment his cock breached the most private part of Daniel. He’d keep Daniel on his back for a few thrusts as his arousal grew at the sight of his once star pupil taking his cock. But sooner than later, he’d take Daniel like a dog takes a bitch in heat, pounding into him with little care about anything other than reaching his completion. 

Sometimes — when Daniel had taken many clients beforehand — he’d reach his peak quickly. Daniel hated those days. Not because he wanted his former tutor fucking him for longer. Rooms were rented based on hours, not orgasms. 

On those days, he’d have Daniel warm his cock. He’d keep it in Daniel’s mouth until he was hard again and then fuck Daniel again. So Daniel hated those days and prayed that Master Alberto would run out of his time. 

Daniel had wanted to explore the world. He had wanted to make maps and find new places. He had been good at it. The best student of Master Alberto — sixteen and filled with so much promise. 

________

Daniel would model for one of the workshop classes at the start of every week. It was the one day that Signora Carini wouldn’t schedule any private modelings for him. 

That is always Daniel’s favorite day. He’s not always naked on those days and the artists are there to perfect their craft, not have an excuse to fuck him without suspicions of being sodomists. 

One artist from the British Isles would always tell him a story of some far-off place he’d visited before coming to Rome. Stories of exotic people in the east and the vast seas in the west filled the classes. 

At the end, he’d always thank Daniel and say his goodbyes. Never once had he requested a private session or touched Daniel in any manner that wasn’t respectable. 

Daniel had always liked him best, just as he liked the start of the week best. 

“But I have the workshop?” Daniel asks, confused by Signora Carini guiding him toward the private room. He doesn’t earn more than two florins, but he likes earning those two florins. He likes starting the week with the handsome man from the British Isles who tells him stories and is kind. 

“Signor Verstappen is paying a lot and he requested you,” she tells him, “Ophelia will model for today’s workshop.” 

Inside the room, Signora Carini orders him to strip and put on the robe most of the models wear for private sessions. “Be good for him Daniel, he may be Dutch but he is very wealthy.” 

Daniel is tying the robe tightly across his waist when a blond-haired man steps into the room carrying his own canvas and paints. 

Handsome and foreign. Daniel could do this. He just needed to smile prettily and moan. 

“Ah, you must be Daniel. I’m Max Verstappen” the man, Signor Verstappen, says with a thick accent that makes his name sound unfamiliar. “Lewis spoke wonderfully about you,” he continues. 

Daniel had many clients ever since Mark’s accident, but he doesn’t remember any Lewis. There was Matteo, Alberto, Lorenzo, Cosimo, and Alexander, just to name a few of them. But no Lewis. 

“Lewis?” Daniel asks, wondering if one of the men has given a false name. He wouldn’t be surprised, some of the things they liked doing with him could ruin lives if even rumors spread of them.

Lewis, Max tells him, is the man from the British Isles who would tell Daniel tales of his travels. Max just keeps talking as he sets up his canvas and supplies. Daniel isn’t entirely sure of what he is saying, but Daniel just nods along. None of the other clients cared much about conversation unless it was to tell him how he’s prettier than some of the girls they’ve seen or how to pose to capture the light just right. 

“You are, of course, perfect for this,” Max says as Daniel zones back into the conversation. 

“Huh?” Daniel questions. 

“For Bacchus,” Max replies, “oh good, there’s oil.” The vial of oil rests on the table where artists would leave coins for him. 

For the next three hours, Daniel has his oddest day of work. 

Max doesn’t fuck him. Doesn’t touch him in any manner that would be considered blasphemous by the Church. Doesn’t make any comments about how pretty he is or how good he would look with a cock in him. 

Nothing. 

Absolutely nothing except sketching his pose on the canvas. He talks and talks and talks, but all of it concerns the painting or how different Rome is from Amsterdam. 

The same happens the next day. Daniel goes to the workshop and Signora Carini leads him to the private room where a robe and fruits are laid out on the bed. Wine and a laurel wreath rest on the table with the vial of oil. Pillows and draperies are nearby in a basket. And at the center of it all is Max Verstappen setting up his canvas and paints. 

Nothing happens, except Max spreads the oil across his chest and moves his limbs in the perfect position. He places the grapes and other fruits around Daniel, covering Daniel’s bare and oiled skin. 

For three hours Max paints him. 

“Do you like being a model?” Max questions. 

“It is a job,” Daniel says noncommittally. It’s not exactly what he had wanted, but it helps provide for his family and allows Oscar to achieve his dreams. If there was another option, he wouldn’t choose this, but this was his only option as he had never been able to hone his skills in any other line of work due to stopping everything when he was sixteen. All he had was his face and body – two things a lot of people wanted to pay a lot for. 

Max makes jokes more often than not. He makes his jokes and looks at Daniel from where he’s sat behind the canvas, and then doesn’t laugh until Daniel laughs. He asks questions about Daniel’s brothers – gives Dutch pain remedies when Daniel talks about Mark’s injury and listens intently as Daniel talks of how talented Oscar is. Max talks a lot about his painting and how he had searched everywhere for the perfect muse, the perfect model to embody Bacchus. 

It goes like that. Max asks him random questions while Daniel wonders when the other man would get it over with. Wondering when the other shoe would drop and Daniel would need to fulfill Max’s desires. Everything seems too normal. It makes him feel not like the whore his usual clients sought, but an actual artist’s model and muse he’d thought he would be when he first stepped through the doors of Signora Carini’s workshop. 

He breaks on the eighth day. After seven days, a week, of laying on the small bed with fresh fruits adorning his naked body, a glass of wine in hand, and oil on his chest instead of coating his hole, Daniel finally asks Max when he’ll fuck him so they could get it over with. 

“Wha-What??” Max sputters, his typically steady hand wavering as he holds the paintbrush just centimeters away from the nearly completed canvas. “Why would- what???” 

“You’re not here to fuck me?” Daniel questions, the grapes resting on his crotch falling as Daniel sits up. “Just to paint?” He grimaces when he sees traces of grape juice staining his skin. 

“Of course, I am here to paint. It is a workshop,” Max replies. 

Daniel just looks at him. Artists didn’t take private rooms to just paint. They didn’t fondle models and request oil to be on all the tables just to paint. They didn’t spend a fortune in the workshop almost every week just to paint. Daniel had seen more than his fair share of painting that would never be completed because the so called artists would rather fuck the models than hone their craft. 

Artist’s workshop was just another name for a brothel, only this way they didn’t have to worry about it impacting the lives they lived outside of these four walls.

He was not the crazy one for asking why Max just kept painting him instead of doing what every other man did. He wasn’t. 

“I have to go,” Daniel says. Rushing to get up, he feels the juice of all the fruits squeezing and oozing underneath his limbs, but he does not get up. He needs to be away from here and from Max who doesn’t want to fuck him and just wants to paint him. People don’t want to paint him, they want to fuck him. He’s not a muse or anything like that, just the favorite whore. 

“Daniel-” Max starts to say, but Daniel doesn’t wait around to hear it. 

_______

Part 2 (Max POV) will be posted in about a week

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Platonic Yandere Queen Step Sister

She wasn’t always a queen 

Like every queen before she was a princess

But before she was a princess she was a count from a low-class duchy

Her mother had found your father

Old, ill, and enticed by the countess willing to entertain him

The countess herself wasn’t awful

She was civil, for the most part the only problem with her was her daughter

“And this is your new sister—Harley! Say hello!”

“Hmph just because your Dad’s the King doesn’t mean I have to like you!”

“Harley!”

Harley was a menace

Snooty and rude

Every time she spoke to you it was like liquid acid spraying specifically at you

She was typically spoiled but she never mistreated the servants 

She was decent to your father 

But to you, it was like she hated your guts from the very beginning

“I’m glad I spilled all that cranberry juice on you! The little outfit you were wearing before matched your ugliness a bit too well.”

“That was a gift from my late mother!”

“Hm figures.”

Of course in turn you hate her too

And you don’t bother hiding it from your father when he weakly asks you to hang out with her

“Did you hear what she said to me? I honestly couldn’t care less if that horse she spooked stomped her flat.”

“(Y/n)! Hold your tongue, she’s your new sister.”

“She might be your daughter but that thing is not my sister.”

He doesn’t seem convinced as he continues putting you together with her in hopes it will strengthen your bond

It does not

And it will never be as your father succumbs to his illness

Naturally, you prepare to take on the throne despite your young age

But alas nothing goes the way it should since she’s been forced into your life

“As the former partner of the King, I gladly will take up the role until our child is ready.”

It’s infuriating as the advisor reads a part in his newly written will about this

How he ordained that his second wife have you in her care and the kingdom in her control

And of course decency dwindles as she becomes drunk on the social power

Fueling her gremlin of a daughter

“Mother’s forbidden you from leaving your room. So I figured I’d give you some of my company! You're welcome.”

“Go jump out the window.”

“How dare–MOM!”

It just gets worse and worse

You do think for a moment things will get better as The substitute Queen keels over her wine at a banquet

Thanking the heavens for whoever poisoned her, you’re prepared to take the throne

“I am so sorry (Y/n) but the council has ruled that for your safety as the kingdom’s only true heir, it’d be dangerous to let you take the throne. So we’ll give the role of Queen to Harley.”

It takes you everything not to stab the brat as she puffs her chest and flips her hair

“Won’t you congratulate me on my coronation!”

It’s agony that ripples under your skin as you have no choice but to flee the castle grounds to escape her stabbing presence and that only works for a day at most

With her mother no longer ruling she isn’t forced to take etiquette lessons away from you

Now she can demand your attendance for any minor meeting

“I don’t think we should mobilize our militia on that border. It’s far too much of an overreaction.”

“What about the villages that have been burned there? The people who need medical attention?”

“Hush (Y/n) I didn’t say you could talk in this meeting.”

It's all so frustrating feeling trapped

But you’re not the only one 

Harley is incredibly frustrated because of what keeps her trapped

And that’s her inability to say anything that she truly means

Especially with manners of the heart

Underneath layers of cruel insults, stifling rules, and personal jabs 

Is a step-sister who adores your very being but is stuck with her thorny exterior

She is forced to stick her nose up and sneer at you when you look her direction

When she’ll say “You look like death with the new family brooch. You might do better to just leave it off.”

What she means “I think you look even more gorgeous than usual with the family brooch, don’t ever take it off.”

If she wasn’t as backward demented as she was it probably wouldn’t be so hard to try being nice

To switch her compliments to insults for just a day to give you a kind compliment

But she hates actually making it so that

Naturally, this is why she killed her mother

She’d gotten in the way of her free time with you 

On top of looking down on you which she absolutely hates the most

Granted she’s certain you hate her with how much time she spends attempting to bring you down expressing her affection the only way she can

Sometimes she’s tempted to put it in writing 

just explain her condition so that she can jump into your arms as you connect the dots

But every time she’d written something out, she couldn’t help but confess how obsessed she was with you 

How happy she was that her whole job now was protecting you

She wasn’t exactly fond of the kingdom other than it being an inheritance for you

She hopes you’ll forgive her as she’ll  prioritize you and your safety above all else

No one but your father’s trusted advisor may see past her biting personality

Convinced with the council that it’s best to have her temporarily rule

If only until they get to the bottom of both the King and the Queen’s deaths

Should any council member question her or her motives 

she’d be quick to shut that down

She can’t have these old nobles get in the way of her dominion over you

“I hope you enjoy the joys of being accused of fraud. It’ll be nice to look back on your time when on the council when you’re rotting in jail.”

She has no mercy for anyone but you

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part fourteen

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: violence, angst, swearing, very unedited lol

author's note: new divider calls for more drama and plot lines 🥳

You stirred awake, the gentle morning light seeping through the curtains. Blinking away sleep, you expected to find Rafe nestled beside you, but the bed was empty. A hint of confusion clouded your mind, and you sat up, scanning the room as silence enveloped the space.

The distant sounds of movement nudged your curiosity, drawing you out of bed. You stumbled slightly, still half-asleep, and followed the faint noises. As you approached the kitchen, the enticing aroma of breakfast wafted through the air, pulling you forward.

There he was, Rafe, standing by the stove, his silhouette painted by the morning light. He turned as you entered, a bright smile lighting up his face. "Good morning," he greeted, his voice warm and welcoming.

"Morning," you replied, a mix of surprise and delight evident in your tone. The sight of him cooking breakfast was unexpected, yet heartwarming.

"Hope you're hungry," he said, flipping a pancake expertly. "Thought I'd whip up some breakfast for us."

You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. "That sounds wonderful. Thank you."

The kitchen was alive with the sizzle of pancakes, the clatter of utensils, and the soft exchange of words as you joined Rafe, the morning light casting a serene glow over the scene.

The morning seemed almost enchanted, the atmosphere serene and comfortable as you observed Rafe effortlessly moving around the kitchen. He appeared so at ease, his movements graceful as he worked on breakfast, and you couldn't help but admire the way he seemed to navigate the space with such familiarity.

Caught in a moment of watching him, appreciating the peacefulness of the morning, you didn't notice Rafe's grin growing. "Enjoying the view?" he teased with a playful glint in his eyes, causing a faint blush to grace your cheeks.

"Maybe just a little," you replied with a soft chuckle, feeling a warmth spread through you from the casual banter.

Setting down the spatula, Rafe turned to face you, a more serious expression taking over his features. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about," he began, the hint of seriousness in his voice shifting the tone in the room.

As Rafe placed a plate of steaming pancakes in front of you, your stomach did a happy flip at the sight and aroma. Yet, the anticipation of the conversation ahead left a slight edge of nerves fluttering within you.

As he leaned in, elbows resting on the counter, he started, "Midsummers is coming up, you know, just in two days."

Your heart skipped a beat, the mention of the event sending a surge of mixed emotions through you. "Yeah, I know," you replied, trying to maintain a calm demeanor despite the jittery feeling in your stomach.

"I want it to be special," he continued, his eyes fixed on yours, a hint of eagerness and seriousness in his expression. "I know it's a big deal, and I want it to be perfect for you."

You felt a rush of warmth at his sincerity, your own heartstrings tugged by his efforts. "Rafe, you don't have to stress about making it perfect," you assured him, a reassuring smile on your lips.

"But I want to," he insisted, a soft smile gracing his features. "It's important to me."

His earnestness touched you, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for him. "Thank you," you murmured, feeling a blend of excitement and apprehension about the impending event.

In the midst of Rafe's words about Midsummers, you felt a pang of anxiety prickling at your thoughts. Being the sole true Pogue attending such a high-class event, surrounded by Kooks, wasn't a scenario you took lightly. Kiara would be there, but her birthright as a Kook granted her a different level of acceptance among the crowd.

As Rafe's voice faded into the background, your mind wandered, envisioning the whispers and glances that might accompany Rafe bringing a Pogue to such an esteemed affair. The worry about fitting in, the expectations, and the judgements gnawed at you.

Suddenly, Rafe's voice brought you back to the present. "You should start thinking about your dress, y/n. It's kind of a big deal."

You blinked, refocusing on him. "Right, yeah, I'll figure something out."

He tilted his head slightly, sensing your unease. "You don't seem too thrilled about the dress."

"It's just… it's a bit overwhelming, you know?" you confessed, trying to downplay your concern.

"I get it," Rafe nodded understandingly. "Hey, Kiara's into fashion, right? Why don't you go with her to pick one out? Make a day of it or something."

His suggestion eased some of the tension coiling in your stomach. "That's a good idea," you agreed, a sense of relief washing over you. "I'll ask her."

Rafe smiled, reassured by your response. "It'll be fine, trust me."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding. The thought of shopping with Kiara felt like a reassuring lifeline in the midst of your apprehension.

As you enjoyed the delicious pancakes, the looming thought of Midsummers lingered at the back of your mind. Despite Rafe's assurance and excitement, the unease of being the only true Pogue at such an elite event weighed on you. Kiara would be there, but her Kook origins made it different.

Lost in your thoughts, Rafe's voice pulled you back to the present. "Hey, I've got plans for today, so it might be the perfect time for you and Kiara to go check out dresses," he suggested, his blue eyes warm and encouraging.

You nodded, a faint smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, that sounds good. I'll text Kiara and figure out when she's free." Despite your nerves, Rafe's eagerness was contagious, and the prospect of shopping for a dress with Kiara felt like a small adventure in the midst of uncertainty.

Rafe beamed at your response, standing up and clearing the plates. "I'll clean up here. You go get ready and have a great time with Kiara. We'll catch up later," he said, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder as you stood up.

"Thanks, Rafe," you replied, feeling a surge of gratitude for his understanding and support. With a reassuring smile, you headed upstairs to get ready, preparing yourself for the day ahead.

The sun was high in the sky as you met Kiara for your dress shopping expedition. Her eyes lit up as she greeted you, clearly excited about the day's plans. "Ready for some retail therapy?" she grinned.

"Definitely," you replied, trying to mask the nerves bubbling beneath the surface.

The dress store was a whirlwind of fabrics and colors, and Kiara's knack for fashion guided you through the racks. Amongst the array of dresses, a baby blue one caught both your eyes. It was elegant yet playful, and you imagined it would complement Rafe's tuxedo beautifully.

"Isn't this the one?" Kiara nudged with a grin, holding the dress up against you.

"It's perfect," you admitted, marveling at the dress in the mirror. The color seemed to brighten your spirits, soothing some of the apprehension about Midsummers.

Once the purchase was made, Kiara turned to you with a curious look. "So, how are you feeling about Midsummers?"

You took a deep breath, contemplating your answer. "Nervous, I guess. It's just… different. I mean, Rafe taking a Pogue to a high-class event, I'm not sure how that'll go."

Kiara tilted her head, studying your expression. "You'll be fine. You're strong, and besides, you've got me there to back you up."

A grateful smile spread across your face at her reassuring words. "Thanks, Kiara. I appreciate it."

With the dress in hand and newfound encouragement from Kiara, you felt a bit more confident about the impending event. As you bid Kiara goodbye, thoughts about Midsummers lingered in your mind, a mixture of excitement and worry.

"Thanks for helping me out today," you said as you waved to Kiara, feeling a touch more at ease.

"Anytime. Just remember, we're in this together," Kiara reassured with a grin before turning to leave.

Walking back home, the dress bag swung lightly in your hand, the baby blue fabric peeking out. The nerves about Midsummers still fluttered in your stomach, but Kiara's support felt like a lifeline.

You walked through the door of the Cameron's house, the dress bag in hand. The sound of Rafe rummaging in the kitchen greeted you, and you found him preparing dinner, his focus on chopping vegetables. The comforting aroma of a home-cooked meal filled the air.

"Hey, you're back! Find a dress?" Rafe asked, glancing over his shoulder with a smile.

"Yeah," you replied, setting the dress bag down. As you observed Rafe's easygoing demeanor, a wave of nervousness washed over you. The thought of Midsummers lingered in your mind, and you couldn't keep the apprehension at bay any longer.

Rafe turned off the stove, sensing something on your mind. "What's going on?" he asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I'm just… I'm nervous about Midsummers, Rafe. It's not just the dress, but the whole atmosphere. I've never been to such a high-class event, and I can't shake the feeling of being out of place."

Rafe walked over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, it's normal to feel that way, especially if it's something new. But you know what? You're not alone in this. We're in it together, okay?"

Your gaze met his, and his reassuring presence began to ease some of the tension. "I appreciate that, Rafe. It's just… the idea of being the only Pogue in that crowd, surrounded by Kooks, is a bit overwhelming."

Rafe nodded understandingly, his expression gentle. "I get it. It's a different world, but you don't have to face it alone. I'll be right there with you, every step of the way. And if it gets too much, just let me know. We'll figure it out together."

His words were a soothing balm to your nerves, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for his understanding. "Thanks, Rafe. I just needed to get that off my chest."

He offered a reassuring smile, pulling you into a comforting hug. "Anytime, y/n. We'll navigate this together, and I promise you, Midsummers will be a night to remember for all the right reasons."

As you nestled into Rafe's embrace, the warmth and support he offered were exactly what you needed. The nerves didn't vanish entirely, but knowing that you weren't facing Midsummers alone made the upcoming event seem a little more manageable. With Rafe by your side, you felt a renewed sense of courage and determination to face whatever challenges awaited you at the prestigious affair.

-

The day of Midsummers had arrived, and the chateau buzzed with anticipation. Kiara and you stood in front of the mirror, the baby blue dress elegantly draped over you. The room was filled with the soft hum of excitement, yet a lingering nervousness hung in the air.

Kiara, ever the supportive friend, meticulously added the final touches. She held up a stunning sapphire necklace, its deep blue hues complementing the baby blue of your dress. "This is the perfect touch, trust me," she assured, fastening the necklace around your neck.

As Kiara worked on your makeup, touching up the details, you couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your dress. The grandeur of Midsummers weighed on your mind, and the nerves threatened to resurface.

"Hey, relax," Kiara said, meeting your eyes in the mirror. "You're going to steal the show tonight. Rafe won't know what hit him when he sees you."

You managed a small smile, appreciating Kiara's attempts to lighten the mood. "Thanks, Kiara. I just hope I don't trip in these heels or something."

Kiara chuckled, her tone teasing. "Trust me, with that dress and those heels, you're practically floating. No tripping allowed."

As the final strokes of makeup were applied, the door creaked open, and Sarah breezed into the room. Her presence brought a burst of energy, and she greeted you both with a cheerful smile.

"Hey, beauties! How's it going in here?" Sarah asked, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

Kiara stepped back, admiring her handiwork. "Our girl here is ready to take on Midsummers. Doesn't she look stunning?"

Sarah's eyes widened in approval as she took in the sight. "Absolutely breathtaking. Rafe's going to be one lucky guy tonight."

A blush crept onto your cheeks, and you glanced at the clock. The time to make your grand entrance was drawing near, and the nerves threatened to resurface. Sarah sensed the tension and stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"You've got this," she encouraged. "And if anything feels overwhelming, just remember you have your girls right here with you. Midsummers is a night to celebrate, so let's make it memorable."

The room filled with shared smiles, the camaraderie between the three of you serving as a comforting anchor. As Sarah joined Kiara in adding some final touches, the anticipation for Midsummers transformed into a shared excitement. The nerves, although still present, felt more manageable with the support of your friends.

As you headed towards the grand hall, the sapphire necklace glistening in the dim light, the encouraging words of Kiara and Sarah echoed in your mind. The night awaited, and with friends by your side, you felt a renewed sense of confidence to face whatever challenges Midsummers might bring.

As you made your way down the grand hall, the soft murmur of the Midsummers crowd enveloped you. The elegant decor and the hushed conversations added to the anticipation in the air. With each step, the nerves seemed to intensify, but your determination to face the night head-on kept you moving forward.

As you scanned the room for Rafe, the subtle glimmer of sapphire at your neck caught your eye. The necklace, a thoughtful addition from Kiara, served as a reminder of the support surrounding you. Yet, the search for Rafe heightened your nerves.

And then, there he was.

Rafe stood across the room, his eyes finding yours in an instant. Time seemed to slow as the world around you faded into the background. The grandeur of Midsummers, the elegant guests, and the rhythmic music all blurred as your gaze locked onto his.

In that moment, it was just the two of you.

Rafe's eyes held a warmth that instantly calmed the storm of nerves within you. His tuxedo-clad figure, the confident stance, and the familiar, reassuring smile he wore made the world outside that shared gaze irrelevant.

Rafe's smile widened as he took in your appearance. "Wow, you look absolutely stunning," he exclaimed, his eyes lingering on the sapphire necklace. "Kiara has a good eye for accessories."

You blushed, a mixture of nerves and gratitude. "Thanks, and you clean up pretty nicely yourself," you teased, eyeing his sharp tuxedo.

Rafe chuckled, his fingers gently tracing the outline of the necklace. "This is beautiful. Did Kiara pick it out?"

"Yeah, she thought it would add the perfect touch," you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm glad you like it."

His gaze softened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "You ready for tonight? Because I've been looking forward to this all day."

Taking a deep breath, you met his eyes. "Nervous, but ready. With you by my side, I think I can handle whatever Midsummers throws at us."

Rafe grinned, his hand finding yours. "That's the spirit. Let's make tonight unforgettable."

Exiting the grand hall together, you and Rafe were met with a burst of cheers from the crowd of Kooks. The collective enthusiasm filled the air as the Cameron family made their exit in unison. Rafe's hand found yours, and you shared a glance, a mixture of nerves and exhilaration.

The crowd erupted in cheers as the Cameron family acknowledged their presence. Rafe led you to the front, where the cheers seemed loudest. With synchronized smiles, you and Rafe waved to the crowd, the energy around you palpable.

As the cheers slowly subsided, you and Rafe dispersed into the crowd, blending in with the elegant guests. The atmosphere outside was alive with laughter and music, creating a lively backdrop for the night.

Making your way through the crowd, you approached Rafe's friends, Topper and Kelce. Topper's eyes widened with genuine surprise as he looked between you and Rafe. "Well, well, if it isn't Rafe Cameron and his stunning date. You guys clean up nicely," he remarked, a teasing grin on his face.

Kelce nodded in agreement. "Seriously, you two look amazing. Midsummers might just be a whole lot more interesting this year."

Rafe chuckled, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "Thanks, guys. Couldn't have asked for a better date, right?"

You smiled, appreciating the lighthearted banter from Rafe's friends. The initial nerves of the evening seemed to fade, replaced by a sense of accomplishment and shared joy.

As the conversation with Topper and Kelce flowed, you subtly excused yourself from Rafe, not wanting to draw attention to your destination. You spotted JJ in the crowd, serving drinks dressed in a suit, a stark contrast to his usual Pogue attire.

You made your way through the elegant guests, weaving through the crowd until you reached JJ. The familiarity of his presence offered a sense of comfort amid the lavish surroundings.

"JJ, what are you doing here?" you asked, a mix of surprise and amusement in your tone.

JJ rolled his eyes, adjusting his tie with a grin. "I got stuck with the classy bartender gig for the night. Can you believe they're making me wear this?"

You laughed, the tension from the upscale environment momentarily lifted. "I never thought I'd see you in a suit, serving drinks at Midsummers of all places."

"Yeah, well, it's a glamorous life I lead," he joked, pouring a drink with mock elegance.

Taking a sip, you looked around, scanning the crowd. "So, what's the real reason you're here?"

JJ's expression turned serious. "I'm here to look out for you guys. And, I've got an important message."

Curiosity flickered in your eyes. "What's going on?"

His gaze shifted, ensuring no one overheard. "We have to leave town tonight. All of us, you, me, and the rest of us."

Your eyes widened at the urgency in his voice. "Leave tonight? Why?"

JJ sighed. "It's complicated, but it's not safe for any of us to stay. There's trouble brewing, and it's better if we're not here when it hits. So, spread the word to Kie and Sarah."

The weight of his words settled in, and you nodded in understanding. "Thanks for the heads up, JJ. We'll figure it out."

He gave you a solemn look. "Stay safe, okay?"

You nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in. With a shared understanding, you left JJ to his bartending duties, making your way back to the gathering. The once-festive atmosphere now held an undercurrent of urgency as you wondered how to relay the message to your friends and navigate the challenges that lay ahead.

Urgency propelled you through the crowd until you found Kiara and Sarah engaged in conversation near the edge of the festivities. With a quick nod towards a more secluded area, you urged them to follow you.

"Guys, we need to talk. Somewhere more private," you whispered, a serious tone cutting through the lively ambiance.

In a quieter corner outside, away from the prying ears of the Midsummers crowd, you took a deep breath before relaying JJ's message. Their expressions shifted from casual merriment to shock and confusion as you spoke.

"JJ said we have to leave town tonight," you explained, your voice hushed. "He told me that there's trouble brewing, and it's not safe for us to stay."

Kiara's brow furrowed in disbelief. "Leave tonight? What kind of trouble?"

You glanced around cautiously before continuing. "He didn't go into details, but he's serious. Something's happening, and it's better if we're not here when it does."

Sarah's eyes widened with concern. "This is so sudden. What do we do?"

"We need to gather the others and figure out a plan," you suggested. "But first, we should find John B and Pope. JJ said it's important that everyone gets this message."

Kiara and Sarah exchanged worried glances, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "I can't believe this is happening," Kiara muttered, her voice a mix of disbelief and concern.

As a group, you started navigating the Midsummers crowd once again, the festive atmosphere now tinged with an undercurrent of urgency. The task ahead, figuring out the details of the looming danger and orchestrating a departure, weighed heavily on your mind. With each step, the once-celebratory night transformed into a whirlwind of uncertainty and unforeseen challenges.

As you wandered through the Midsummers crowd, the festive atmosphere clashed with the urgency and unease within you. Frantically searching for any sign of Pope, you turned a corner and almost collided with Rafe, who greeted you with his usual charm.

"Hey there, gorgeous. Having a good time?" he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes.

Instead of the usual banter and laughter, your response was dry, the weight of the impending departure and the news from JJ still pressing on your mind. Rafe, noticing the shift in your demeanor, furrowed his brow.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his tone laced with concern. "You seem a bit off."

For a moment, you hesitated, grappling with the decision to share the alarming news. But the urgency of the situation won out, and you decided to keep it vague. "Nah, just feeling a bit sick is all. Must be the fancy food or something."

Rafe's expression shifted from playful concern to genuine worry. "Are you sure? Maybe we should find a quiet spot for you to rest."

You managed a weak smile, attempting to brush off his concern. "No, really, it's nothing. I just need a moment. Go enjoy the party; I'll catch up with you in a bit."

Despite your attempt to reassure him, Rafe remained unconvinced. His gaze lingered on you, the worry evident in his eyes. "If you say so. But don't push yourself too hard. I'll be around if you need anything."

As Rafe reluctantly left you to navigate through the crowd alone, the weight of the impending departure and the complexity of the situation left you torn between maintaining a sense of normalcy and the growing urgency to gather your friends and figure out the next steps. The once-joyous Midsummers night now held an air of uncertainty, and the challenges ahead seemed to multiply with each passing moment.

Locating Pope in the crowd, you wasted no time relaying JJ's urgent message. Pope's eyes widened in alarm, and without a second thought, he sprang into action.

"Alright, I'll find my dad and let him know. We have to leave," Pope declared, determination in his eyes.

You watched as Pope approached his father, who was busy at the grill. Sensing the urgency in Pope's demeanor, his father glanced up, concern etched on his face. Before he could ask any questions, Pope spoke with a sense of urgency.

"Dad, I have to leave. It's important. I'll explain later, but we need to go now."

His father, though puzzled, nodded in understanding, recognizing the seriousness in Pope's voice. As Pope headed off to join JJ, Kiara, John B, and Sarah, you cast a hesitant glance back at Rafe, who was still engaged in conversation with Topper and Kelce.

The conflicting emotions tore at your heart. Abandoning Rafe at a moment like this felt like a betrayal, but the loyalty to your friends, your family, prevailed. The weight of the impending departure and the uncertainty of the situation weighed heavily on your shoulders.

With a heavy heart, you followed in Pope's footsteps, weaving through the crowd to join your friends. The once vibrant Midsummers night now seemed shrouded in uncertainty, and the decision to leave Rafe behind left a lingering ache.

As you approached your friends, the sense of solidarity among you provided a small comfort. However, the knowledge that Rafe remained oblivious to the impending departure cast a shadow over the bittersweet camaraderie. The challenges ahead loomed, and the bonds of friendship and loyalty would be tested in the face of the unforeseen dangers that awaited all of you.

The urgency of the situation brought the group together in a secluded spot away from the Midsummers festivities. Anxiety and confusion etched their faces as JJ and John B exchanged glances, the weight of the revelation evident in their eyes.

"What's going on? Why do we have to leave town?" Kiara asked, her voice filled with a mix of worry and confusion.

JJ took a deep breath before responding, "It's Ward. He's planning to frame John B for murder."

The words hung in the air, the shock rippling through the group. Jaws dropped, and eyes widened as the gravity of the situation sank in. The once-celebratory night now carried the ominous weight of a looming threat.

Sarah's voice trembled as she sought clarification, "Murder? Ward is planning to pin a murder on John B?"

John B nodded solemnly. "Yeah, it's all part of his twisted plan. He's trying to get rid of me for good."

Pope's expression darkened with anger. "This is insane! We can't let him get away with this."

JJ chimed in, his frustration evident. "That's why we need to leave town, get ahead of whatever Ward is planning. If we stay, he'll frame John B, and we'll all be in serious trouble."

You and your friends stood in stunned silence, grappling with the reality of the danger they faced. The festive atmosphere of Midsummers now felt like a distant memory, replaced by the urgent need to protect your friend and themselves from the impending threat orchestrated by Ward.

As the shock settled, determination flickered in everyone's eyes. The unspoken vow to stand together against Ward's machinations and navigate the challenges ahead united the group. Leaving the town became not just a necessity but a strategic move to outsmart the dangerous game Ward was playing.

As you turned away from the group, your gaze involuntarily flickered back towards where Rafe was engaged in conversation with Topper and Kelce. The distant laughter and celebratory atmosphere of Midsummers seemed worlds away from the heavy truth weighing on your shoulders.

Your heart sank with the realization that Rafe was still oblivious to the impending danger and your departure. The internal conflict gnawed at you, leaving behind a lingering ache. You wondered how Rafe would react when he realized you didn't return, how he would make sense of your absence in the midst of the celebration.

A mix of emotions—regret, sadness, and a tinge of guilt—accompanied your decision to follow your friends into the unknown. The sense of loyalty to the makeshift family you had found in each other battled against the pain of leaving Rafe behind, unknowing and vulnerable.

With a heavy sigh, you turned away, joining the group as they moved towards their uncertain future. The path ahead was shrouded in darkness, and the night that began with the promise of celebration now held the weight of secrets, danger, and the sacrifices made for the bonds of friendship.

-

As the hours passed, Rafe's worry intensified. He wandered through the Midsummers crowd, asking people if they had seen you. The responses were all variations of the same theme—no one had seen you recently. A gnawing unease settled in his stomach as he considered various possibilities, each more concerning than the last.

His initial thought was that you might have fallen ill, the fancy food at Midsummers not agreeing with you. However, as the night wore on and the search continued, a more troubling scenario began to take shape in his mind.

Someone in the crowd caught his attention, and Rafe eagerly approached them. "Hey, have you seen y/n? I've been looking everywhere for her."

The person hesitated before responding, "Yeah, I saw her leaving with a blond guy a while ago. They seemed in a hurry."

A wave of realization washed over Rafe as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. The image of you leaving with a blond boy brought a surge of mixed emotions—confusion, concern, and a twinge of hurt.

"JJ," Rafe muttered to himself, the realization sinking in. His mind raced with questions, and the worry about your sudden departure with JJ gnawed at him. The festive night, which had started with joy and celebration, now seemed overshadowed by a sense of loss and unanswered questions.

Determined to find out what had transpired, Rafe's steps quickened. He had to understand why you left, and the looming sense of uncertainty only fueled his desire to seek answers and, hopefully, find you.

The atmosphere in the chateau was tense as you and your friends hurriedly packed your belongings, aware that time was of the essence. The van was running outside, John B waiting impatiently in the driver's seat. The urgency of the situation pushed everyone to move quickly, each member of your makeshift family grabbing essentials and whatever they could carry.

The hurried packing at the chateau had created an atmosphere of urgency, each member of the makeshift family scrambling to gather their belongings. The van's engine hummed in the background, and John B waited in the driver's seat, ready for a swift departure.

In the midst of the chaos, the sudden sound of another car pulling up outside sent shivers through the group. Tensions rose as everyone exchanged glances, their eyes reflecting the shared anxiety about the unknown danger that seemed to be closing in.

Abruptly, gunshots pierced the air, echoing through the night. The sudden eruption of violence startled everyone. In an instinctive reaction, you and your friends crouched down, hands covering your ears, seeking refuge from the chaos.

JJ's urgent call to come outside cut through the disorienting noise. The group exchanged worried glances before cautiously approaching the window, curiosity mingling with fear. JJ, with a solemn expression, locked eyes with you and mouthed the words, "It's Rafe."

The revelation sent shockwaves through the group. The once-familiar face, now potentially a threat, heightened the anxiety in the room. The unanswered questions about your departure and Rafe's sudden appearance with gunfire in tow created a tangled web of emotions and uncertainty.

As you exchanged nervous glances with your friends, the reality of the situation became painfully clear. The night that had started with the promise of celebration had spiraled into a series of unforeseen events, each one pushing you all further into the depths of danger and uncertainty.

The words hung in the air, and the room fell silent as the weight of JJ's revelation settled in. Your face turned pale, and your eyes widened in realization. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and a sinking feeling took root in your stomach.

"What?" you whispered, the word escaping your lips in disbelief. The revelation that Rafe was outside, armed and potentially dangerous, sent a chill down your spine. Someone had informed him about your departure with JJ, and now the consequences were unfolding in gunfire.

The room seemed to close in as fear and regret mingled in the air. The hasty departure, the urgency of leaving town, and the unspoken danger you had hoped to escape now manifested in Rafe's presence outside, armed and ready for who knows what.

As the gunshots continued, each echo seemed to underscore the gravity of the situation. The once-joyous Midsummers night had morphed into a nightmarish reality, and the choices made in haste now bore heavy consequences.

As the gunshots echoed outside and the revelation of Rafe's presence sank in, a surge of determination flickered in you. "I have to go talk to him," you stated, your voice firm and resolute.

Your friends exchanged worried glances, their concern evident in their eyes. "Are you crazy? It's not safe out there!" JJ exclaimed, trying to hold you back.

Kiara stepped forward, her hand on your arm. "You can't just go out there. Rafe has a gun, and we don't know what he's thinking."

Pope, echoing the concern, added, "We need to figure out a plan, not rush into the unknown."

But the urgency in your eyes remained steadfast. "He needs to know the truth. I can't leave things like this. I have to go talk to him."

The room fell into a tense silence as the weight of your decision hung in the air. The once-unified front now faced a divergence of paths—between the safety of the chateau and the unknown danger outside, embodied by Rafe and the gunshots that punctuated the night.

With the gunshots outside finally subsiding, you seized the opportunity to make your way towards the chateau's exit. Hesitant but determined, you tread cautiously, your eyes scanning the yard for any sign of Rafe. The tension in the air was palpable as you moved towards the side of the chateau.

However, in the darkness, the uneven terrain proved treacherous. Unbeknownst to you, a branch lay in your path, and in your haste, you stumbled over it, creating a loud noise that pierced the eerie stillness of the night.

Before you could fully comprehend what had happened, a sudden, sharp pain seared through your side, causing you to gasp. The world blurred, and with an instinctual attempt to regain your balance, you staggered, only to feel yourself falling to the ground.

The impact sent shivers through your body, and the pain in your side intensified. The darkness closed in as you struggled to comprehend the situation. The sound of your fall echoed in the quiet night, and the ominous silence that followed enveloped you, leaving the fate of your encounter with Rafe and the unfolding danger hanging precariously in the balance.

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols, @fastlovela, @wickedlovely121, @fals3-g0d

[hayakawalove]

Intertwined (Chapter One)

Best Friends and Better Halves, Chapter 1

Summary: You were in 10th grade when you first met Eren Jaeger. Enticing eyes and a big mouth. There was no way you could know how important he would become to you.

As the tendrils of your youth fade away you find yourself confused. Your relationship with him grows more complicated throughout the years, taking you by surprise at every turn.

A story of love, lust, and addiction.

A/N: This has been in the works for 13 months. We're so excited to finally share it. My best friend @zeninsama who is also the coauthor, and I have spent countless hours talking and thinking about this story. They coauthored this with me and we worked really hard.

I do have some warnings. This story delves into addiction and how it affects relationships. This by no means means we are glorifying it, we are only exploring it. Their relationship will be complicated, but it's supposed to be. If you find yourself no longer interested in it that's perfectly fine. It won't hold back, it won't be pretty.

There will be lots of flashbacks in this fic. We debated for a long time on how to go about it, but I think we settled on a way. Flashbacks will be sprinkled throughout the fic and will always be separated with "~~~" before and after. There will also be the time period before so as to not confuse you. The past is very important to their relationship so it needs to be included. It won't be in every chapter, and some chapters will be purely flashbacks. We will use "///" to indicate transitions in a scene. The flashbacks for the most part will be in order.

We love this story, and hope you do too.

CW: Drug use, alcohol use, violence, fem reader, AFAB reader

W/C: 8,043

Banner credit: @benkeibear

~~~

-Summer before Senior year-

Warmth. 

He always did run hot. His lips meld to yours, whispers of cherry gracing your tastebuds. Rough hands you had long been accustomed to held your face, keeping you still and pliant just for him. Eren’s tongue slips free, gently dragging along your bottom lip. You felt as if you were floundering, desperately trying to keep up. He pulls away and you’re met with forest green staring back at you. 

“Was that any better?” He teases. 

~~~

-Current-

Eren Jaeger is a lot of things. 

Punctual is not one of them. 

It’s not the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last – but it was, however, the first time Eren had been late to a party he invited you to. You weren’t much for large gatherings, or gatherings of any size for that matter. You would’ve opted to stay home if Eren hadn’t practically begged you to come with him.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” He had said. 

Yeah, right. It reeks of booze and frat boys only have one volume – screaming their heads off. 

You sigh and push off from the countertop, not wanting to wait around any longer. If Eren was going to come he would’ve shown by now. Thanks a lot, Eren. 

You make it one step before an arm snakes around your shoulders. 

“Hey.” 

The scent of cheap beer is replaced by warm, woody cologne, cut with the pungent smell of weed. It’s so distinctly Eren Jaeger. 

He squeezes your shoulder in a half-hug. 

“Leaving so soon?” 

“Soon? I’ve been here for 30 minutes,” you grumble. 

Eren releases you from his hold and repositions himself in front of you, blocking you from the kitchen door. He’s dressed in all black, a worn brown leather jacket draped over his shoulders. Tucked behind his ear is a neatly rolled joint. It was a signature look for him. 

“Work ran late. Besides, I had a few deliveries to make.” 

“Deliveries? What, does the shop not pay you enough?” You tease. 

Eren’s mouth quirks in a smile as he pokes back, “I thought my best friend was supposed to support my passions. I’m a small business owner.” 

You roll your eyes, moving to pass Eren and finally be released from this hellhole, but his hand grips your wrist to pull you back. His touch is warm, grounding. 

“Heyheyhey, where do you think you’re going?” 

“Home? I’ve had enough of this place.” 

“But I just got here! Come on, just one drink and we can head out.” 

“Fine.” 

You allow Eren to drag you back into the kitchen and lean against the countertop for support, watching with your arms crossed over your chest while Eren fills a red plastic cup with a little bit of everything spread out before you. Vodka, wine cooler, some kind of fruit juice. 

“Gross, Eren!”

“Don’t knock it until you try it.” 

He takes a swig from your cup before handing it to you (“making sure it’s safe”, he says) and you accept, brow raised in suspicion before following suit and taking a sip. Besides the initial bite from the vodka, it’s really not that bad. It just tastes like juice – albeit a dangerously intoxicating one that’ll have you regretting tonight even more in the morning. Eren always takes his drinks like this, opting to get loosened up faster and not really giving a shit about the contents. 

Against your better judgment, you take another sip.

“Yeah, it’s not bad.” 

“See? I’ve never steered you wrong. Ever. Not even once.” 

You snort into your cup and Eren raises his brows, feigning offense. 

“I haven’t! Name one time.” 

“The time Mrs. Steven busted us trying to buy beer with your shitty fake ID.” 

“That wasn’t that bad.” 

“My mom grounded me for a month!”

“We wouldn’t have seen each other if I didn’t have the best climbing skills in town.” 

You both laugh and shake your head, watching the party ahead of you with a smile on your face while Eren watches you with a smile on his. 

“Okay koala man.” 

“Koala man?”

“They’re good at climbing, right?” 

Eren’s drink helps ease your nerves, along with your burning need to leave this party. You might even say you’re starting to have fun now that Eren’s here. He tends to do that – make anything feel fun and lighthearted. He doesn’t take things as seriously as you do. This used to make you skeptical when you first met Eren in high school. He seemed like a bad influence, if not just a nuisance, but you had to admit he really was a good guy. He’s still a little shit though. 

“So, who do you even know here? I thought all your friends were in Paradise City.” 

“This is Reiner’s house. You’ve met him, right?” 

Reiner, Reiner, Reiner… You mull it over. Eren has a lot of “friends”, so it’s hard to remember all of them by name. He’s always been so charismatic. 

“Blond? Muscles?”

“Bingo.” 

“Oh yeah, he’s nice.”

You throw his name around several times in your head. You hadn’t had many interactions with Reiner, but everytime you did speak with him he seemed nice. To be honest, you weren’t really sure what he and Eren had in common. Reiner was a jock through and through - even played for the football team. Eren on the other hand… Well, he was Eren. Your Eren nonetheless.

Your lips press against the plastic cup as you take another sip of Eren’s concoction, feeling a buzz start to come on already. Your senses feel dull as your eyelids slowly get heavier and heavier.

“Hitting you harder than I thought it would, damn you’re a lightweight.” Eren chuckles, tossing back his drink like it was nothing.

You click your tongue at him and roll your eyes. Maybe he had a point. It wasn’t your fault. Not everyone drank and partied it up in highschool like he did. You dread the day a doctor gets a look at his liver - or even worse, his lungs.

“Finish your drink then we can head out if you still want?” He offers, tossing his cup in the overflowing bin beside you.

You nod and swish your drink around in front of you, there was still half the cup left. Eren lets out a chuckle.

Eren hops off the counter. “I’m gonna go light up, you coming with?”

“I think I’m good.” 

He plucks the joint from behind his ear and heads towards the patio. “Suit yourself. At least try to make some friends while I’m gone. The thought of you being all depressed without me is gonna ruin my high.” 

“Yeah, bye, Eren,” you wave him off, a smile spreading across your face. 

You notice your body feels much more relaxed now than it did initially. Eren has a funny way of doing that to you. Most of the time, you’re polar opposites – you being high strung while Eren hardly took anything serious. You balance each other out. 

A light buzz reaches your head, heat creeping up your neck and ears. Eren really knew how to make an effective drink. Even the music sounds better, no longer blaring and rattling the house but mellowing into the background with a low rhythm and bass you could feel thumping in your chest.

~~~

-Fall of Sophomore year- 

“Everyone, we have a new student joining our class. Go ahead and introduce yourself, sweetheart.” 

“Eren Jaeger,” the new kid speaks, expression and tone heavy with boredom. His hair is brown and slightly overgrown, sitting just under his ears. “I transferred from Maria Reformatory. Go Titans.” 

Finally, something different. 

“Nice to have you, Eren!” The teacher welcomes. 

His eyes meet yours. They’re beautiful – a vibrant shade of emerald green you’ve never seen before. Only on movie stars, or models, same thing. You straighten in your seat, feeling perceived. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” One of the girls blurts out, causing the class to erupt in laughter.

You return your attention to the assignment in front of you, silently groaning. The teacher attempts to quell the chaos while directing Eren down the aisle, towards the empty seat conveniently located beside you. 

You intentionally picked this seat because you wanted to be away from everyone else. 

“Hey,” Eren introduces himself, tossing his backpack under his desk and digging for a pencil in the front pouch. “What’s your name?” 

You grumble your name, eyes not leaving the worksheet. 

“I’m Eren.” 

“Yeah, I heard the introduction.” 

“Wow. Okay, attitude.” 

Eren slouches in his seat, his too-long legs extending beyond his desk, like a newborn giraffe. 

Focusing is hard when you feel his eyes bore holes into your side, analyzing you. It felt like a bug crawling up your neck, almost making you shiver at the weight of his gaze. You opt to ignore him, do what you’ve always done and keep your head down. You don’t need friends, they’re disruptive. Not like anyone here gets you anyways. 

Eren, however, had no intention of leaving you alone. 

“How do you like the school?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it before.”

“You can’t tell if you like it or not?” 

“I’m trying to focus,” you admit, slightly exasperated. 

“Didn’t know there was a rush.” 

Eren turns forward, brows raised in amusement. You were quick to bite and maybe not the most friendly, but it only piqued his curiosity. 

You watch Eren adjust in your peripheral vision, like he’s just now realizing there’s nothing on his desk. Your finger taps anxiously on your own table. 

“Hey teacher, I don’t have one of those,” Eren points out, referring to your textbook. 

“You’ll get one soon,” the teacher interjects. Don’t say it, please don’t say it… 

Your heart sinks when she says your name. 

“You don’t mind sharing, right?” 

Your finger stills. 

“No, ma’am.” 

Eren smirks and scoots his desk closer to yours, metal legs scraping against the floor until the edges touch. The scent of Old Spice body spray wafts over into your space, with something skunky underneath that explains his red and lazy eyes. 

“This works out great!” Your teacher exclaims, eyes meeting yours. “Now that Eren has joined us, you’ll have a partner for the semester project!” 

The words on the book in front of you sear into your brain. Fuck.

You don’t need to look at Eren to see the expression on his face. Well, at least he was enjoying this. 

“Eren, you’re in luck. Your partner is the head of the class, I’m sure she’ll take great care of you.”

“Is that so?” Eren grins, stretching his long legs in front of him. “Are you gonna take care of me, partner?” 

Normally, praise for your academic achievements feels great. The circumstances were different in this case. You were certain Eren was going to slack off, let you do all the work and stamp his name on the finished result and take your credit.

You’d prefer that, anyways. Keep your head down. Do your best work. Just get through it.

///

You’re on your way out when a familiar voice calls out your name. 

“Hey! Wait up!” 

Naturally, you speed up. 

Eren matches your pace, walking beside you towards the front gate on campus. 

“Jeez, for someone kinda short, you walk fast.” 

You sigh in defeat. “Why are you following me?” 

“Well, we have that end of semester project, right? When should we go over it?” 

“It’s fine, Eren. I can do it and you can sign your name when I’m done. That’s what I was planning on, anyway.”

The brunet grabs your wrist, bringing you to a stop. Heat floods your cheeks, spreading to the tips of your ears. Who was he to just grab you like that? You turn around, ready to give him an earful, but the expression on his face makes you pause. It wasn’t anger, but something closer to determination. 

“I’m not gonna make you do it alone. What kinda guy do you take me for? Let’s just exchange contact info and we can plan something.” 

You wanted to argue back but you couldn’t find the words. Being around Eren steals the words right from you. 

“Fine,” you grumble, fishing around in your bag for something to write your number on – a convenience store receipt – and a pen to write it with. You print your number on the back and hand it to Eren, who studies the receipt curiously. 

He laughs from his chest. “Damn, how many bags of gummy worms do you need?”  

You groan.

“None of your business.” 

“I’m much more of a gummy bear fan myself. It’s a texture thing, and I like that they’re bite size.”

“Good for you.” 

Eren smiles and stuffs the receipt into his pocket, finally releasing his grasp on your arm and starting on past you. “We’ll be in touch, partner!” 

////

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: Hey, it’s Eren Jaeger. 

You tap out a quick answer. 

You: When do you wanna talk about the project? 

Inviting Eren home wasn’t the best idea. Your parents were strict, and besides, you just met the guy. You weren’t exactly ready to invite him into your home, and who knew what would await you at his? Maybe you could set up at a park somewhere. 

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: You hungry? I’m feeling like a burger.  

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: Sent location.

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: It’s not too far. Meet here?

You: That works. 

You remind yourself to text your parents about your plans. It shouldn’t be a problem seeing as it’s for school. 

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: It’s a date.

You: It’s a study session. 

The walk wasn’t inconvenient – skip your usual turn, walk another block north, apologize a dozen times to the cars you weave through in the parking lot. When you arrive, you notice Eren already seated with a tray of food in front of him, a fry dangling from his mouth and gaze fixed on his lap. 

You help yourself into the booth across from him.

“You got here fast.” 

His lips twitch up in a smirk as he chows down on the fry. 

“Or you got here slow, shortstack.” 

“Let’s not make that a thing.” 

Eren gestures towards his food, silently offering it to you, but you shake your head. 

“So what do you want to do the project on?” He asks through a mouthful of fried potato mush. 

“Well I was planning on making a heart monitor. They’re pretty easy to make if you just do a cheap one. Then I was going to write a report alongside it explaining what it is and how it works.” You explain, feeling your shoulders begin to relax. 

You had already gotten started on the project so you were praying he wouldn’t want to pick something else. He listens intently while you explain to him how exactly it worked and what was needed still. 

“Sounds cool.” 

Eren picks off the rest of his food while you walk through the project together, pulling your notes from your backpack and explaining everything you had done so far, including a diagram you were rather proud of. 

Conversation lulls into a comfortable silence. You don’t realize your pen is missing until you notice Eren absentmindedly doodling on an unused napkin. 

“What school did you go to?” 

“Okay, Miss ‘I heard the introduction’,” Eren teases. “Uh, Maria Reformatory.” 

Your brow quirks. His expression remains concentrated on his masterpiece, bangs falling in front of his eyes while he gnaws at the straw in his empty drink. 

“Reformatory? What did you do?”

Green eyes flick up to yours momentarily before looking back down. For a moment, you kick yourself. Maybe it’s a touchy subject, don’t be nosy. 

Eren doesn’t seem bothered. 

“I wasn’t a good student. It’s nothing much, just got into fights, drank and smoked. Teenager stuff, you know how it is.” 

You shake your head. “I don’t, actually.” 

Eren laughs through his nose. “Besides, my grades were already shit. Those things were just the final straw.”

You wet your bottom lip, fingers idly tapping on the table. 

Eren took slight notice. He stops drawing and slides the napkin away from him. His expression remained neutral as he leaned back in his chair to fully face you. 

“Fights? Like, physical fights?” 

Eren laughs dryly. 

“Does that scare you?” 

You pick something that looks close to pride on his face. For being sent to a reformatory, it sure doesn’t seem like he learned much. 

“My best friend used to get picked on a lot. He’s kinda like you, actually. Short, bookish type. Anyway, it really pissed me off. I’m not the kind of guy that can just stand there while someone treats my friends like shit.” 

“So you stopped drinking and smoking?” You ask. 

Eren shifts, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Just learned how to hide it better.” 

He really didn’t learn anything. You heave out an exasperated sigh, but keep pressing. 

“What are you doing here then?” 

“My mom wanted a fresh start for me, figured moving might help.”

You hum quietly in understanding. 

You chat idly for another half hour before your phone buzzes under your thigh. 

Incoming call from: Mom. 

Your heart sinks as it dawns on you – you forgot to text your parents. 

“Ah,” you start nervously. “I’ve gotta get home.” 

“Want me to walk you?” Eren asks casually.

“No, it’s okay.” 

“You sure? It’s getting dark out, what if some creep tries to grab you?” 

Against your better judgment, you give in. 

While the two of you gather your things, your eye catches on the napkin he was drawing on. It didn’t look half bad. It was a flower with designs around it, the art oddly calming after hearing his tales from his old school. You grab the napkin when he isn’t looking, sliding it into your backpack. As you pack up, an odd feeling curls up in your stomach. Would he notice you took the drawing? Would he care? As you make your way to the exit, Eren holds the door on your way out. 

////

You stop a block down from your house. Even from afar, you can see the light on in the entryway, and your parents’ cars in the driveway. Eren is rambling about some cartoon series when you interrupt him.

“Here is fine,” you murmur, refusing to make eye contact. “I’m just down the street.”

Eren raises a brow suspiciously. You answer before he can ask. 

“I’m already in trouble for being late. If my parents see me with a boy, they’re gonna flip.” 

“Alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow.”

////

You did not see Eren tomorrow. Or the day after. 

Everything was radio silent. 

The prospect of having to deal with a new kid made you nervous at first, but you felt more at ease after getting to know him better. It was sort of ironic, in a way. You learned that Eren was a bad kid who liked to smoke and drink. Why did that make you feel more comfortable? If anything it should stress you out even more. He’s a bad influence. Maybe it was because he was being honest. Honesty is hard to come by nowadays. 

It looked like you would end up having to do the project on your own after all. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you were planning on doing this alone anyways… So why did you feel let down? 

////

The project is due tomorrow.

You’re hunched at your desk in your room, bottom lip pinched between your teeth. The heart monitor was more or less put together, and the written report just had a couple hundred words left before it was ready to submit. 

You knew you could do it by yourself, but it still would’ve been nice to have help. 

You open your files, ready to hammer out the final details.

“Wait, where is it?” You hum to yourself, scrolling a little too far in your files for your comfort. 

You try typing in the file name, only for your screen to taunt you back: no files found. 

You could have sworn you saved it under that. 

Your fingers shake from anxiety. Frantically, you type variations, thinking you might have saved it under something else. It’s no use.

“You have to be joking. Where is it?” 

At first it was mere nervousness, but now you’re in a full blown panic. 

“No, no, no!” You chant to yourself. 

Weeks of work, all down the drain. Did you save something on top of it? If that was the case, it was lost forever. 

Hopelessness washes over you. What were you gonna do? 

You’re about to accept your impending doom, no doubt get a failing grade on the assignment and lose your spot at the top of your class when you hear something clatter against your window. 

Your gaze snaps to the window, confused, until you watch something hit your window again. 

A twig? What the fuck? 

You approach the window and slide it open, about to stick your head out when another twig narrowly misses your face. 

“Shit, my bad!” Eren calls out, voice a little too loud for your liking. 

“Eren?”

There’s no fucking way. 

You look behind you, expecting your parents to open your door at any minute but they don’t. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“The project is due tomorrow, I came by to help.” 

You watch in awe as Eren heaves himself up, scaling the trellis alongside your house until he reaches your bedroom window, his face inches from yours. Light work for him. No reaction. 

“What is wrong with you?” You yell in a hushed tone, hoping the rustling foliage and thump of his feet against the house didn’t wake your parents. 

Eren grins. 

“A lot of things, I thought you already knew that.”

Wordlessly, you step out of the way so Eren could help himself in your room. 

If you weren’t so pissed you would have been impressed. Your room was on the second floor, and he’s barely breaking a sweat. 

Eren looks around your room, noticing the aforementioned heart monitor sitting on your bedroom floor and an open laptop on your desk, alongside a ripped-open pack of gummy worms. 

“So, what’s left to do?” 

“You really think I would leave things left to be done until the night before it’s due?” 

His brow raises. “Uh, maybe?”

You sigh and cross your arms, eyes dropping to your feet. 

“It was almost done, but I lost the report. It needs to be rewritten completely.” 

“Okay great, I’ll do that and you finish whatever it was you were doing here.” He carefully steps over the monitor and settles in your chair. 

“You can’t just write a whole report in one night.” 

Eren meets your gaze, grinning. “I like a challenge. Sit back and watch, shortstack.” 

He starts typing at a quick pace. 

////

You pause your work on the monitor and look up at Eren. His eyes glide over his work, his chin propped in his hand. His other hand helps itself to your gummy worms – a small price to pay for his help. 

“What happened to you anyway? You totally disappeared on me, it kinda sucked.” 

“Got grounded.” 

“What’d you do?” 

“Left some weed in my pocket. My mom went to do some laundry and it made a huge fucking mess in the washer, so I lost my phone.”

You let out an incredulous chuckle and he turned from the screen to look at you. 

“Yeah, yeah. Get it all out.” 

“I thought you said you were better at hiding it?” 

Eren grins. You can’t help but mirror him. 

Sure he was annoying, but you liked his company whether you would admit it or not. 

////

You didn’t know you fell asleep until your morning alarm woke you up. 

You must have taken yourself to bed at some point in the night. Forcing your bleary eyes open, you notice Eren’s figure hunched over your desk, still snoozing. 

Bangs hit against your door and you nearly jump from your skin. 

“Honey? You’re still asleep?” 

You throw a stuffed animal at Eren’s head, waking him up with a snort. 

“I-I’m awake!” You call back. 

You sigh in relief that your door was locked. If your parents came in and saw a boy sleeping in your room, you were gonna be in a whole world of trouble, way worse than a failing grade on an assignment. 

“Okay! I heard you snoring. Maybe you’re getting sick. Breakfast will be downstairs.” 

Your mom’s voice trailed away as you hear her descend the stairs again. 

Eren’s awake by now, rubbing his tired eyes with a yawn. “I want breakfast.” 

“You fell asleep in here?” 

“So did you.”

“It’s my room!” 

Eren shrugs and checks his phone, the battery almost drained. “Shit, it’s almost seven. I don’t have time to go back home. Guess I’ll go straight to school.”

He rises to his feet and stretches, reminding you of a cat. “Want me to wait outside for you?” 

“No, I’ll see you in class. Try not to lose the report.” 

Eren reaches for the handle of your bedroom door. You smack his hand and look up at him incredulously. 

“Take the window!” 

////

It was almost kind of funny. You’ve spent these last few weeks so nervous about the presentation, but when the time finally came, you felt relaxed. Maybe it was Eren’s influence encouraging you to take a breath for once. 

Eren takes the lead, reading the report aloud while you attach the nodes of your handmade monitor for the demonstration. Once he was finished, you turn it on, the monitor instantly coming to life, projecting Eren’s steady heartbeat. You lean forward to reposition one of the nodes, not wanting it to slip. You don’t realize how close you are until Eren’s breath hits your face. He’s looking directly at you. 

“It works.” He says matter of factly.

“You didn’t have faith in me?” 

“Of course I did.” 

Of all the times you’ve seen Eren smile, you’ve never seen one quite like this. It felt softer, genuine. The kind of smile you can’t help but mirror back until the pace of Eren’s heart rate accelerates, filling the room with a racing thump thump thump.  

Your teacher claps, signaling the end of your presentation. 

You end up with an A on the project, not unfamiliar for you, but it felt more rewarding this time around. 

////

Eren meets you outside your last class. Immediately, you notice he’s holding something behind his back. Something he’s trying to keep secret as he pivots slightly when you approach him, wanting to obscure this surprise even more. 

“Hey, Eren,” you greet, mildly suspicious. 

“How was your day?” 

“I’m so ready to go home.” 

There’s a crinkle as he extends his arm, offering a familiar brightly colored bag to you. 

Sour gummy worms. 

“These are for you, by the way.” 

You snatch the bag of candy, inspecting it closely. “For me?” 

Eren cocks his brow. “You think I’m trying to poison you?” 

“Or drug me,” you tease, though your tone is dry. “Don’t they make candy edibles like these?” 

Eren laughs, a throaty chuckle rumbling from deep in his chest, and tilts his head in amusement. 

You really, really like Eren’s laugh.  

“I’m not giving you edibles. Shit’s expensive. I just remembered you like those, and you worked really hard on the project, so. You deserve it.” 

You stuff the bag in your backpack, finally deeming them safe. 

“I’m surprised you remembered I like them.” 

“Obviously.” 

Eren walked you home, babbling on about his day, about cartoons, sometimes picking on you. You found it a little annoying, constantly having this guy follow you around, but his presence became a comfort to you. You thought you’d be done with him once the project was over, but you quickly learned Eren had no intention of backing off. He wanted to walk you home. 

Guys usually weren’t nice to you. Unless this was all a ploy, which was possible. Maybe he just wanted to make you look stupid. Time will tell. 

As you sat in bed that night, you looked at the crumpled bag of candy, and something akin to gratitude bloomed in your chest. You tear open the packet, picking a blue and red worm first and popping it into your mouth. 

How odd, you think. 

Whatever. 

You ate the candy that night, and you could’ve sworn that it somehow tasted sweeter than usual.

~~~

-Current- 

“Hey there.” 

You open your eyes to find a man who is definitely not Eren standing in front of you. 

He runs a hand through his bleach blond hair and flashes you a mischievous look in his dark brown eyes. The kind that makes you clutch your drink closer to your chest. The buzz in your body becomes a shiver as you shift uncomfortably.   

“Hey,” your tone is curt, borderline uninviting. Eren said to make friends, but you were certain this stranger didn’t come to you just for a conversation. 

“What’s a cute thing like you doing all alone?” 

“I’m not alone, I’m actually–”

“So your friends just left you here?” He takes a step closer to you, backing you against the counter and grabbing the cup from your hand, ditching it on the counter. “Come hang out with me instead.” 

“I’m good actually, I think I’m just gonna stay here.” You put on a brave front, begging your voice not to betray you. 

“Oh come on, don’t be like that. I can show you a good time.” He grabs your now unoccupied hand and leans in closer, close enough that the acrid scent of beer, cigarettes and sweat fills your senses with his every exhale and you tilt your head away to escape the smell. 

“Hey man, she said she’s good.” 

You’ve never been more relieved to hear Eren’s voice. You look at him with wide eyes, silently asking for help.

The blond bares his teeth in a sardonic smile.

“Who’s this? Your guard dog?”

Eren’s brow twitches. It’s one of his tells, a sign that his patience is wearing thin. You know better than to provoke Eren with the temper he has. It almost makes you feel sorry for the blond if he wasn’t actively harassing you. 

“Yeah and I bite, now back the fuck off.” 

His sweaty hand tightens on yours. 

“I’m good, man.” 

“I said get the fuck off.”

Eren charges forward and shoves the man away from you by his shoulders. He stands between you like an impenetrable wall, towering over the man who fucked around with Eren Jaeger’s temper and was about to find out. 

The man staggers back, hitting the opposite countertop. He brushes off his wounded pride with a scoff. 

“Lay off dude, I’m just trying to get laid like everyone else here. You can have her, she’s a fucking prude anyways.” 

You could choke on the tension building in the air. Eren is seething. 

“What did you just say?”

“I said I’m just trying to get my dick wet but this stuck up bitch isn’t cooperating.” 

The insult might’ve stung if you weren’t so terrified of what was going to happen next. Eren’s gaze lowers, eyes intense like he’s contemplating something while fidgeting idly with the thick metal band on his middle finger. Like he’s making a choice. 

“Is that so?” 

You feel a chill run down your spine at the poison laced in Eren’s voice. 

“Yeah, have her to yourself. That is if you can get her to spread her legs for you-“ 

Eren made his choice. His fist connects with the blond’s cheek, skin splitting under his ring, making him stagger and clutch his face. It takes only a second for his expression to shift from shock to pure rage.

Not even a second after you get out of the way, the stranger charges forward and throws Eren onto the counter by the front of his shirt. His fist slams into Eren’s nose with an audible crunch.

Eren’s knee shoots up, nailing his opponent in the balls hard enough to make even you grimace. Low blow. The man swears loud, doubling over in pain, and Eren takes advantage by uppercutting the blonde in the eye. 

The quarrel gathers a small group of people into the kitchen, their murmurs drowning out the House music blasting in the other room. 

The man lands a hit on Eren’s brow, splitting the skin, bright red blood immediately gushing towards Eren’s eye. 

“Porco!” 

You hear another man shout from behind you. 

The man you now recognize as Porco turns around towards the voice. Eren pushes up, but Porco is too slow to react. Fists continue to fly while Reiner pushes his way through the crowd, nudging you out of the way to separate the two.  

“Galliard! Jaeger! Step off!” Reiner’s voice bellows. He grabs Porco by the scruff, like a kitten, yanking him backwards. 

“He’s fucking crazy!” Porco spits out, his face battered and bruised in mere seconds. 

Eren’s eyes still narrow in on Porco. 

“Ren, come on.” You murmur, grabbing onto his arm. 

At first, Eren doesn’t budge under your hands. It takes a couple of tries before he allows you to drag him out, eyes never once leaving Porco. You don’t let go of his arm until you’ve exited the house, when your feet finally make contact with the sidewalk, finally trusting that he won’t go running back. 

“What the fuck was that Eren?” 

His silence had never been so loud. His body heaves with every breath, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. 

“You can’t just beat people up!” 

“He was being a fucking dick!” 

You start down the sidewalk, choosing to ditch your car for the night. The last thing you need is to be pulled over for intoxicated driving, no matter how sober you felt after that altercation. Your hand remains tight around Eren’s. The neighborhood looks different at night but you piece together your location. The campus convenience store is nearby – you’ve been there countless times before with Eren, whether to get a quick lunch or to load up on snacks before horror movie screenings at the local theater. You could probably walk the aisles blindfolded. 

Eren’s forced to wait outside as you didn’t want to scare the shop owner, or track blood all over his tile floors. Antibiotic cream, bandaids, and a pack of frozen peas. You can make do with this. 

You leave the bodega, fishing through the plastic bag slung over your arm.

“Here,” you toss the pack of frozen peas over your shoulder for Eren to catch. “Put these on your nose, the cold will help with the swelling in the meantime. I’ll clean you up when I can find a good place to sit.” 

Eren obliges, trailing behind you, pouting like a scolded child. 

Just around the corner is a residential park, one you had spent countless hours in despite neither of you actually living in that neighborhood. It’s empty at this time of night, and a quiet spot to sit down was ideal. 

You force Eren to sit on a swing, standing between his splayed legs. Like a baby giraffe, you think. He trains his eyes up at you while you get to work, still holding the frozen peas against his nose. 

You uncap the antibiotic ointment and tend to the wound on his brow. It looks like it stings, you try your best to not wince at the thought, but Eren’s face remains unchanging. Just staring up at you with emerald eyes, looking almost a little reflective. You’re sure he’s still thinking about the fight, replaying it in his head like a highlight reel of Eren Jaeger’s best hits. 

Silence settles between you. There were so many words you wanted to say, but you had no idea where to start. 

Sighing, you settle on: “Why’d you do it?” 

Eren’s answer is unsatisfyingly simple. “He was being a dick to you.” 

“I could’ve handled it myself.” 

“Yeah,” Eren scoffs, tone laced with sarcasm. “You seemed to be doing a great job at that.” 

You bite your tongue and rip a bandage out of its paper to cover up the wound, then observe your handiwork. 

It’s late. You’re tired, the buzz has long since worn off. Wordlessly, you slump into the adjacent swing. 

“Touché.” 

Eren’s demeanor shifts into one more casual, his anger fizzled out. 

“Why don’t you stand up for yourself?” 

“Maybe I don’t wanna make a scene. It’s not a big deal anyways, it doesn’t matter.” 

“It matters to me.” 

You feel your stomach tighten. Ever since the day you met Eren, he was always so understanding of you. He looked out for you. 

You sigh, idly tracing marks in the sand with your foot. You had been to this same park countless times before, making these same shapes in the sand, but tonight felt different. 

“Why do you care so much?” You ask, trying to keep your voice steady. 

From the corner of your eye you see Eren’s long legs stretch forward in front of him. He produces a carton of pre-rolled cigarettes from his pocket and slots one between his lips. His thumb strikes the wheel of his lighter once, twice, before producing a flame that illuminates his face. You watch silently as he lights the end of his joint, exhaling that first cloud of smoke into the night air.  

“You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.” 

Your heart clenches in your chest. It wasn’t like you were unaware that you were his best friend, but Eren wasn’t the most sentimental person. He wasn’t one for vocalizing his thoughts, or being mushy about his feelings. You knew this about him, so his sincerity always struck you. Every once in a while he would say something that caught you by surprise, making your breath seize in your lungs. 

Eren was a lot of things – brash, impulsive, and annoying – but he also cared about you like nobody else. 

The pungent, earthy smell quickly hits your nose. When you first started hanging out with Eren, you couldn’t stand the smell. Your nose would pinch up in disgust while you watched him get high, but now the scent became familiar to you. It was something comforting, like late nights in the summer when you had no agenda. Like walks to the nearby store to stock up on candy, or deep conversations underscored by low music. 

It reminded you of Eren. 

It reminded you of home. 

“Wow,” you glance at Eren, lips cracking a smile. Your hands hold the swing chains tight, the cold metal biting into your palms. 

“What?” 

“Never would have pegged you for such a sentimentalist, Eren.” 

“You don’t peg me at all.” He responds. 

You try to hold back a smile but it shows through. No matter what, you’re determined to continue poking fun at him. 

“Who knew you had such a bleeding heart.” 

Eren rolls his eyes, a smile threatening to break around the joint. He plucks it from his mouth for a breath of fresh air instead, the silver of his rings glinting in the moonlight. “Oh, shut up.” 

“I’m serious. Did you pull that from a movie? Maybe overhear someone else say it?” You keep poking lightheartedly. 

“You’re the one who asked. Plus, you know you love me.” 

At this point you break eye contact, settling on the moon instead. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” 

You meant it too. 

You weren’t sure when Eren started to matter so much to you. At first he was unbearable – a delinquent who’s favorite pastime was pestering you – but slowly, he turned into a face you expected to see at every turn. Not having his presence felt unsettling, and you found yourself dreading classes without him. 

Eren extends the hand holding the joint. He still offers, knowing you always decline. 

“Want some?”

“No thanks.” 

“Okay. Just thought I’d ask. What with me being a sentimentalist and all.” 

The two of you laugh softly. It always felt like this with Eren. Easy. You had your habits and he had his, just like anyone else, but your friendship felt just as easy as breathing. It was hard to imagine what your life was like before him. 

Eren ditches his finished joint into the sand, squashing it down under his shoe.

“Wanna go somewhere else? I feel bad inviting you to that lame ass party. I think the lanes are still open, or the arcade.” 

The thought was tempting. You did love going to the arcade. It may not seem like much to anyone else, but it felt special to you. Good music, timeless classics, and an owner that hooked you up with extra tokens as a thank you for keeping the business alive. Not far from that was the bowling alley. Neither of you were good at bowling, if anything, you’ve probably watched Eren accidentally throw himself down the lane more than the actual ball. 

As nice as hanging out longer sounded, a feeling of responsibility gnaws inside you. 

“I shouldn’t,” you sigh. “I have a test coming up.” 

“A test on a Friday night?” Eren questions.  

“No, it’s in a couple days. I know you don’t know this but there’s a thing called studying that people sometimes do when they care about academics.” 

“Studying?” Eren plays along with your bit, sounding out the word like it’s unfamiliar to him. “I don’t know, I think my method works just fine.” 

“Just winging it? Yeah, right. It’s a miracle you’ve made it this far, Eren Jaeger.”

Eren is the first to stand up.

“Always so cruel to me.” He fakes a somber face.

“Sure I am,” you stand as well, smoothing out your clothes. “Walk me back?” 

///

The walk back is pleasant, though the cold is biting. There weren’t many students on campus around this time, with winter break quickly approaching. Anyone who wasn’t already home for the holidays was either tucked away in their dorms, or out partying. As for you, ending the semester meant drowning in a sea of tests. You were looking forward to a break. 

Eren walks beside you, hands in his pockets. He didn’t live on campus, so you appreciate him walking with you. Eren had a small apartment a couple blocks away, a graduation gift from his parents who were amazed he made it out of high school. It was a comfortable place for you to hang out, seeing as your dorm wasn’t exactly fit for hosting.

It wasn’t that your dorm was inhospitable to say, however it wasn’t exactly the marriott either. Eren referred to it as the pig sty, but you thought he was exaggerating when he said that. Sure you would occasionally leave some clothes here and some trash there, but it was under control. In your opinion at least. You didn’t have time to keep things spotless. You were running yourself thin between school, work, and Eren. He could be considered a full time job all by himself. 

Eren’s house was nicer anyway. The furniture was simplistic and things were never left out. It seemed like the opposite of what you would expect for someone like him. You had two theories on why things were spotless at his bachelor pad. One, his doting mother Carla raised him to be tidy. His house was never messy growing up so he got used to it. Two, Eren constantly had… how do you say, lady friends over frequently. Couldn’t get laid if your house was a mess. Either way, his place was nice and yours was not.

Your strides slow as you approach the dorm building, pulling your key card from your wallet and tapping it on the lock, hearing it whirr and click, the light flashing green. You reach for the handle but Eren beats you to it, holding the door open for you. The warm air flows from inside the building, fanning across your cold face, the sensation prickling your skin. 

“I’m sorry about tonight. I didn’t mean to stand you up, that was a dick move of me.” 

“Psh, it’s okay,” you shrug. “All things considered, I’d say I had a fun night.” 

You hear a ding further down the hallway where the elevator stood. Metal doors open to reveal two girls about your age chatting inside. Their eyes lock with Eren’s, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. 

The girls pass by as you enter the building, whispering and giggling to each other when they catch sight of Eren. He flashes a grin and flicks his eyes up and down as they leave before returning his attention back to you. It’s nothing new. You weren’t blind, even you could admit Eren was good looking – and you weren’t stupid either. Eren’s love life is a never-ending story. A long list of girlfriends, and an even longer list of hookups. You had long gotten used to the shameless flirting. 

You and Eren make your way to the elevator. Your finger presses into the button, a comfortable silence falling over you as you wait. 

The elevator dings. Your feet only need to move so far before you find yourself at the familiar front door, decorated in construction paper cut-outs with your name written in sharpie. You lean against the doorway, arms crossed over your chest.

“Can I see you again tomorrow?” Eren asks. “I work from 10 to 2.” 

Eren works at a small smoke shop by campus. All of the other employees were students as well, and most of the customers were also students with drooping eyes. You weren’t sure how it began, but you had a tradition of going to Eren’s work to drop him off lunch when he worked. You didn’t go every time he had a shift, but often enough.

“Of course, I’ll bring you lunch. Want anything special?” 

“Nah, surprise me.” 

You pull Eren into a hug, eyes fluttering shut as his scent fills your senses. Spices, smoke with a subtle bite. His arms squeeze around yours before withdrawing, sending you off with a pat on your back. 

“Okay! Get home safe. Try not to get into any more fights on the way home.” 

“No promises!” Eren calls from over his shoulder as he starts down the hallway. You click your tongue, watching as he enters the elevator and disappears behind the doors, smiling the entire time. 

The lock clicks behind you. Tiredness hits you all at once, feet dragging the short distance from your front door to your bed until you flop down in it, pulling your laptop off your nightstand and squinting at the bright screen. Sleep was calling your name, but you were already behind on studying and didn’t want to spend your winter break making up for a failed test. 

At least 15 minutes. Yeah, that won’t hurt. 

You stretch a couple of times, trying to force the exhaustion from your body. 

You make it as far as logging into the student portal before your phone lights up beside you, and you don’t even try to resist the distraction. It could only be one person at this time of night. 

Eren: What’s up? 

You: I don’t know, you texted me. 

Dots appear on your screen, then disappear. You can picture him now, walking down the sidewalk with one hand holding his phone, the other probably holding a lit cigarette. You can picture the smoke and warm breath puffing into the air as he laughs. 

Eren: Do you miss me horribly yet? 

You accept that studying is futile and shut your laptop, instead flopping over and letting your back hit the mattress. Laying down has never felt so good. 

You: Yes, I’m beside myself right now. 

Eren: I can always turn back around. The night is still young. 

You: No, my bed is calling my name. Goodnight, Eren. 

Eren: I was gonna make something to eat but I’m not sure what. 

You: I said goodnight, Eren. 

Eren: You’re no fun. 

The screen starts to blur as your eyes droop, body succumbing to exhaustion. Your arm goes limp, dropping onto your chest. You feel your phone buzz once more before falling asleep. 

Eren: Goodnight shortstacks. 

Tag List: @dinolvrrr, @constawrites

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[pjsfvs]

- you and marks firsts

pairing: bf!mark x afab!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: this is super duper fluffy, you might die. its very cute

summary: you and mark just started dating. this is what he would take you to do while on a date, as well as your first kiss.

a/n: for my new favorite pookie jy (@stillgoldenpb) thank u for reading my mark breeding hc over 10 times. MWAH MWAH.. also sorry if u wanted smut, i was in a fluffy mood so i did mark fluff, but i can make a mark smut one-shot just incase.

First Date:

For your first date with Mark, he would take you for a ride in his Audi A6, to a nice little restaurant out of town. He had discovered it when he went for a drive and knew you would like it.

It was a small place, very few people there, and all of them were nice, and complemented you on being a cute couple. There was a jukebox in the corner, that he would queue up a bunch of songs on, many he knew you liked.

When you were done eating, he “forced” you to dance with him. Meaning he took your hand and lead you to the empty dance-floor, with a wide and enticing smile.

You danced to a couple of songs, talking and gazing into each other's eyes the whole time. When the sun began to set, you leave the restaurant and drive to a nearby peak.

You sat on the edge, legs dangling over, the beach view below you paired with the sunset. You didn’t leave until the sun had disappeared. He gave you his jacket to wear during the walk back to his car, knowing it would be a lot colder now that it was dark.

By the time you got home, it was late. He jokingly asked if you were going to invite him inside. You didn’t, but he left with a quick kiss to your cheek.

First Kiss:

Your first kiss didn’t happen on an official second date, but after you decided to meet up at the beach. He told you about his day, his training, and how much he loved singing. You told him your goals, and all the places you wanted to see.

Eventually, your conversation become more playful and joking, even more so when you found an abandoned basketball. (HE CANT PLAY FOR SHIT LMFAO)

You tossed it to each other a few times as you continued to talk and tease each other. After you caught the ball, and you teased him for having a weak throw, he began to chase you. Tackling you (softly) to the ground, you were left giggling, and he was watching you with an adoring smile.

When you locked eyes, lying in the sand, he would reach over and brush some sand off your face. Then, quicker than you were expecting, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. When he broke away, he apologized, saying he just felt the overwhelming urge to kiss you.

You smiled and told him it was alright, you felt it too. Pleased with this, he asked if he could kiss you again, to which you obviously said yes.