#thank you for sharing your thoughts I hope you don’t mind me kind of bouncing my ideas off yours

[starlostseungmin]

stray kids ─── as one direction songs.

✰ pairing : non-idol!skz x afab!reader

✰ genre : fluff, angst, maybe suggestive?

✰ warnings : subtle mentions of sex and drugs, kissing, mentions of food and profanity. lmk if i missed smth.

✰ notes : uhm i really don't know what i wrote. this has been sitting on my drafts since november and thank god anon reminded me about it (i actually went on hiatus after minho's birthday last year so yeah) the songs i associated with skz members are just strongly my opinion mehehe i hope you guys like it, idk if you agree with me in regards with the songs but DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS after it! thank you so much <33

✰ tags : @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly

masterlist | taglist.

chan ─── perfect

honorable mention: little things

you already know how fucked up your life is but ever since he came, those days became different. it is always the small gestures that one fails to notice in the blink of an eye. you are just going to be surprised by the time it is done or how you managed to get out of a small inconvenience. he loves you so much that he would put you first before anything else. 

chan is different from everyone else. maybe because he is labeled to be kind and so above average of doing the bare minimum which people seek from their partners. he’s perfect but he doesn’t think of it the same way. 

you tried to convince him a hundred times but all you got in response is him being a blushing mess and his giggle that makes your heart warm every time you hear it. a smile would tug on your lips that would make him stare at you, he’d bounce back on the things you said to him and you think about what did you do in your past life to deserve someone as perfect as him. 

“baby, you’re perfect,” you said for the nth time, “no, i’m not, but i’m perfect for you,” he winked. “that was smooth, chan,”

lee know ─── night changes

he might be the type to not show his feelings immediately but he’s the one who subtly shows them. it started slowly, he reassured you that everything would fall into place once you both could figure out what was going on with this relationship. 

but as long as you’re together, the love you and him shared will never change. although the process of this love story has made things go in different directions, the thought of having to stick together is essential. 

your parents didn’t like him at first, they had someone in mind and that wasn’t him and yet, you didn’t care even if your first date was a disaster and the next one after that, but that didn’t stop you. it took a while for your parents to finally accept him after tons of convincing them that he’s a great guy, but it succeeded later on. 

you had a place on your own and welcomed his cats to live with you when some of them were wild, that’s what you think. minho was a mess when you met him, but thanks to you, it’s not that bad anymore. 

changbin ─── temporary fix

honorable mention: i want to write you a song

changbin is the type to offer himself as someone you can lean on but it’s not always because of this friendship you have, but as a lover who wanted to make you feel better and forget about shit. 

temporary fix is not always meant to be a cover-up of something you’d open up again to allow another train of bullshits in your life. it felt like he was being sent from the heavens to look out for you, an angel whose sole mission is to make you happy, the same feeling like something that keeps you high. 

there’s this thing on changbin’s vibe that you don’t want to share with anybody else and he makes you feel things when you’re with him. even though this relationship sounds like a fling and a guy who sneaks into your dorm late at night to make out with you, well, it used to be. but you know changbin is so much more than that after a while. 

the phrase, “you can call me when you need me, you know?” whenever he sleeps with you is now in the trashbin the moment you settle to be someone to each other.

hyunjin ─── last first kiss 

remember the time when he said that he chose to be the last love instead of the first? exactly. being the last person to love is basically spending the rest of your life with him, even if he’s not your first kiss, not your first love, not your first in everything, it’s fine as long as he’ll be the one you’ll remember as your eternal love. 

hyunjin being fitted into this song is like a message that he wanted to convey to his love, a sentiment that would indicate how much he’d spend time and effort to stay by your side until the end of time. indeed, a hopeless romantic man he is. 

last first kiss is the very first song that reminds you of him, it is part of those memories you made with him. it was that time when he decided to take this relationship to the next level, yes, he did mention that he wanted to be your last, and by what he meant, an everlasting love. 

“let me be your last,” and when you heard him say that, you knew he was the man who fits perfectly into your broken puzzle that would mend the wound forever.

han ─── rock me

honorable mention: midnight memories

rock me suits him as well as midnight memories. but midnight memories have their effects on han, giving him the vibes of being a musician specializing in the rock genre. and as someone who loves to listen to almost every genre in the world, you fell in love with him after watching him busking by the streets. 

you were amazed by how talented he is. his fingers strummed that guitar well, and his voice? like an angel. one could say that he is a free-spirited human being who does whatever he wants and writes songs about some things that piqued his interest. 

then there’s you, a broken melody who longed for him to come back, the same goes for him who let you go. both of you thought that you were too young to be in love and jisung was better off alone but his songs were dedicated to your break up. you rocked his world when you came and left broken notes when it ended.

but he always believed that what you had back then, was real and that you’d always remember the love you had. 

felix ─── why don’t we go there 

honorable mention: kiss you

felix is someone who gets hyped easily whenever you’re with him. his bright smile, his funny reactions, and the unidentified sounds that came out of his mouth made him a fun guy to be with. it started with a fling that turned out to be something you didn’t want to rush but it is slowly beginning to have a label. 

having a relationship with him offered different dynamics. it is the way he grabs your hand when you both start to get caught by the waves crashing by the shore or how he felt when you kissed him for the first time. he is someone who can get dragged with you to whatever your plan is, a great ball of sunshine to your rainy days, someone that you don’t want to be the one that got away. 

he does think the same, especially the fact that he treasures you so much and it became an opportunity to love you more when you spend that one night together somewhere, alone. it was an invitation actually and it made you realize a lot of things. 

it is the way he looked at those stars with those dazzling eyes of his. the constellation plastered on his cheeks glowed along with them, it is what they call freckles, you love them as much as how felix felt for you. having him as a getaway made you don’t want to come back, ever again.

seungmin ─── no control

night changes was the first choice but then no control became the one for him, no control, because he is, a menace. he believed that being in love was something that gullible people would do and get hurt, maybe a few of them proved it to be valid and worth it, yet he isn’t convinced because it is just a waste of time. 

and yet, you came out of nowhere. it is the way he looks at you with those dazzling puppy eyes, the way he obeys the things you wanted him to do, and it gets worse when you share intimate affections. from a gentle puppy to a wild wolf. there’s something about you that drives him crazy every time. 

nothing matters to him when you’re around and he never felt this way before. he’d kiss you out of nowhere when you reached home with your back against the wall as your hands played with his hair. he gets weak and powerless, but gets hyped and rough which you get caught off guard every time. 

and he is very loyal, he always makes sure that no other will ever meet his interest. you don’t want to share, anyway and you got him down bad.

jeongin ─── summer love

honorable mention: fool's gold.

loving jeongin is like a breath of fresh air, the freedom that he finally held in his hands, and the time he can make up for himself to be with you. it was a reckless summer that you spent in your grandma’s place, away from the bustling city and this boy showed up on your doorsteps. 

it didn’t take a while that you immediately had this puppy love type of interest in each other. you started sneaking out in the middle of the night when your grandma was in her deep sleep, swimming together by the river across the small town on a random afternoon, sharing a kiss under an oak tree that tasted like your grandma’s apple pie, it was great. you didn’t want it to end. 

and just like any other summer, it did. you didn’t know if you would still have this continuous conversation when the school year starts since jeongin is miles away from where you live. 

you saw him sitting on one of those branches of the oak tree where you kissed for the first time, and there you promised not to lose each other even if the summer ended. you couldn’t believe that what you did for less than two months was this serious. it was hard to say goodbye, yet you hoped nothing would change after the last summer’s sunset.

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[drewsbuzzcut]

I Can See It In Your Eyes

Drew Starkey x Evangeline Sinclair (OC)

Warnings: none that I can think of (this is also lightly edited so sorry for any mistakes)

“Evangeline!”

“Ms. Sinclair over here!”

“Look this way!”

The young starlet walks down the red carpet, the train of her gown in her hand as she makes her way to an interviewer. The buzzing crowd does nothing for her nerves, but she focuses on the pride she feels as everyone calls out for her.

“We’re here with Evangeline Sinclair. She walked the red carpet for the first time just yesterday for her premiere of her brand new horror movie. Everyone seemed to love it and the reviews are to die for. How do you feel?” The interviewer dives in straight away.

Evangeline only has a millisecond to catch her breath.

“So excited. This movie is special to me and I want people to really feel that. I hope that transcribes well through all the hard work that was put into that project,” she breathes out, hands clutched over her heart to show that her words are heartfelt.

“Today you’re here as well to support your fellow Loewe crew and Luca who you’ve previously worked with.”

“Yes, I am. Luca is a fantastic director and he’s perfect at having a vision and making it come to life. I’m honored to be here to celebrate and support such an amazing film and an amazing cast and crew”

“If you don’t mind shifting gears, rumor has it that Drew Starkey is your newest costar for another horror movie coming out sometime next year,” the woman says excitedly.

“Well I guess it isn’t a rumor anymore. Yes, he’s my costar and we’re actually in the middle of filming. Our lovely cast and crew were gracious enough to allow us to be here supporting our other projects,” Evangeline grins, a little flutter growing in her heart at the thought of Drew.

“Well the chemistry must be strong between you two. I can just feel the electricity buzzing when you walk by one another,” the interviewer points out, making a blush form on the actress’s cheeks.

“He’s amazing to work with. What can I say? Our chemistry is unmatched and that’s why we’re starring in a major movie together,” she muses through a big grin.

“I think I heard my name,” Drew chimes in, popping up behind Evangeline.

His hand finds the small of her back and he places a chaste kiss to her cheek, furthermore making her face blaze.

“Drew! How kind of you to join us. What’s it like working with this generation’s scream queen?”

Both Drew and Eva share a quick glance, their eyes quickly flitting away from each other. The girl is highly aware of his large hand still present on her back.

“Ah man. She’s- yeah she’s perfect. Someone that everyone wants to work with, and I just so happen to be the lucky one to do so. She’s super talented and she really knows how to put dedication into the craft,” Drew compliments, directing his gaze back to her.

They all look at each other just about speechless. Evangeline wasn’t expecting for him to say that and it clearly caught the interviewer off guard.

“He’s such a flatterer. I should be saying that I’m the lucky one, being able to work with him,” she shakes off her surprise.

“And soon everyone will be the lucky ones when they’re able to see your film in theaters.”

Evangeline turns her body into Drew’s, her hand landing on his chest in an affectionate manner. Although their touches seem to be mostly platonic, everyone will still be able to see the tension bouncing between their eyes.

“We can’t wait for everyone to see it,” Drew gleams and squeezes the actress into his side.

“Thank you, Drew and Evangeline. It was nice talking to you both,” the interviewer concludes her interview and the duo bid their goodbyes.

“You should pose with me for pictures,” Drew leans down to whisper in her ear.

The girl blushed furiously this time, heart practically beating out of her chest. Whenever she’s around Drew, her senses go haywire.

“No way. You’re the star of the night,” she huffs out.

“And you’re always a star.” Can he be any more perfect?

“One picture. Only one, Drew,” she gives in.

After a few pictures- after the paparazzi couldn’t get enough of them -the duo make their way inside, away from any prying eyes or lenses.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you that you look beautiful,” Drew sighs as if it's been weighing on his chest.

“Thank you. You look handsome as well.”

His hands find their way back onto her back, slowly tugging her into him for a long overdue hug. Evangeline doesn’t dare stop herself from looping her arms around his neck. His hair tickles her fingers in a pleasant way, reminding her of all the times she’s played with his hair on set.

If someone were to see them, they’d think they’re a couple. Hell, sometimes her mind even tricks her into thinking they’re a couple. Truth is, their bond has become so strong, a catalyst from co-starring in a movie together. Their characters are each other’s love interest, and they’ve had their fair share of onscreen kisses that have pushed their relationship to toe the line between fiction and reality.

Snapping the girl out of her thoughts, Drew slides a hand down her arm and interlocks their fingers.

“Shit. I need to get going and meet up with Luca and Daniel and everyone else,” he mutters, lowering his head in slight annoyance.

“Nervous, Starkey?” There’s a tease hidden in her words and Drew catches it right away.

He fights off a bubbling laugh and just presses a hard kiss to her cheek.

“It’s okay if you’re nervous,” she adds after he fails to respond.

“I’m fine. I know you’ll be in there, seated right behind me,” he says and gathers her in his arms once again. Even in heels, Eva still has to be on her tiptoes to press her forehead to his.

“Mmm right. I almost forgot that I’m your non-date,” she laughs. Drew had asked her to accompany him during his film's premiere day, knowing that her presence will keep him calm. He also can’t deny that he adores seeing her dolled up and by his side.

“Date,” he corrects her. She stays silent, just peering into his baby blues.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispers and finally returns his cheek kiss.

“I have to get going.”

“Go superstar,” she playfully pushes at his chest.

He squeezes at her hips, reluctantly pulling away to catch one last, longing gaze at her before meeting the cast and crew for Queer.

a/n: I haven’t written for Drew in a while, so I hope y’all truly enjoy it

Let me know if there’s anything specific you want to see with Drew and Evangeline!

[reaper2187]

Abigail x female farmer reader

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the rolling fields of Y/N's farm. The early morning air was crisp and filled with the earthy scent of freshly tilled soil. Y/N stretched her arms high above her head, taking a deep breath of the countryside air. The life of a farmer was hard, but every day brought new rewards and challenges that made it all worthwhile.

As she set to work watering her crops, the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel path caught her attention. Turning around, Y/N saw Abigail making her way up to the farmhouse. Her signature purple hair shimmered in the morning light, and her expression was as lively as ever.

"Morning, Y/N!" Abigail called out, waving as she approached. "I hope you don’t mind me dropping by this early. I was bored, and your farm is always a nice place to escape to."

Y/N smiled warmly, setting her watering can down. "Of course, Abby. You're always welcome here. I could use the company, too."

Abigail's eyes lit up as she stepped closer, taking in the sights of the thriving farm. "Wow, your crops are looking amazing! You’ve really transformed this place since you first moved here."

Y/N chuckled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Thanks. It’s been a lot of hard work, but it’s worth it. There's something really fulfilling about watching everything grow."

Abigail nodded, her gaze drifting across the fields before settling back on Y/N. "I get that. It’s kind of like adventuring, in a way. You start with nothing, face all sorts of challenges, and in the end, you come out stronger. Plus, there's treasure at the end of the journey. Except your treasure is fresh vegetables."

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I never thought of it that way, but you're right. Farming is its own kind of adventure."

"Speaking of adventures," Abigail said with a grin, "have you done any exploring in the mines lately? I’ve been thinking about going back down there. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good battle with those cave creatures."

Y/N wiped her hands on her jeans and nodded. "Yeah, I actually went down there a few days ago to gather some ores. It was pretty intense, but I managed to find some good stuff. If you want, we could go together sometime."

Abigail’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "I’d love that! It’s always more fun when there’s someone else to share the danger with."

"Let’s make a plan for it, then," Y/N said, enjoying the way Abigail's enthusiasm was infectious. "But for now, how about you help me with the farm chores? I’ve got a lot to do before the day really gets started."

Abigail hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Sure, why not? It’ll be good to do something different for a change."

Together, the two women set to work on the farm, with Abigail asking questions and Y/N happily explaining the different tasks and techniques. As they worked side by side, Y/N found herself sneaking glances at Abigail, admiring the way her eyes sparkled with curiosity and her hair bounced with every movement.

It wasn’t long before the sun climbed higher in the sky, and the warmth of the day began to settle in. The two women paused to take a break near the chicken coop, wiping the sweat from their brows.

"You know," Abigail said, leaning against the wooden fence, "I never really appreciated how much work goes into running a farm. You make it look so easy, but this is hard!"

Y/N chuckled, handing Abigail a bottle of water. "It definitely keeps me busy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. There’s something really satisfying about knowing that I’m providing for myself, that everything I grow and raise is because of my own effort."

Abigail took a sip of water and nodded thoughtfully. "I get that. It’s like when I’m playing my music. There’s this feeling of accomplishment when I finally get a song just right, and I know it’s all because I put in the time and effort to make it happen."

"Exactly," Y/N agreed. "It’s that sense of pride in what you do. And it’s even better when you can share it with someone else."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to pause. There was something unspoken in the air, something that made Y/N’s heart beat just a little faster.

"Speaking of sharing," Abigail said, breaking the silence, "do you mind if I hang out here for a bit longer? I know you probably have a lot to do, but I really like spending time here. And with you."

Y/N felt her cheeks grow warm at the admission, but she smiled and nodded. "I’d love that, Abby. Stay as long as you want."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter and work. The two women fell into an easy rhythm, with Abigail helping out where she could and offering amusing commentary that kept Y/N entertained. It was one of those days that felt like it could last forever, where every moment was filled with simple joy and companionship.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, the two women found themselves sitting on the porch of Y/N’s farmhouse, sipping on lemonade and watching the stars begin to appear.

"This has been a really good day," Abigail said softly, her voice carrying a note of contentment. "Thanks for letting me hang out here, Y/N."

Y/N smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. "I’m glad you came, Abby. It’s been a while since I’ve had this much fun."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the night sky deepen and the stars grow brighter. The sounds of the farm, the gentle clucking of the chickens, the rustling of the trees in the breeze, all blended together into a peaceful symphony.

"You know," Abigail began, her voice a little hesitant, "I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what I want to do with my life. There’s so much out there to explore, so many things to try, but sometimes I wonder if maybe...I’m just running away from things."

Y/N turned to look at her, surprised by the vulnerability in Abigail’s tone. "What do you mean?"

Abigail sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don’t know. It’s like...I’m always looking for the next adventure, the next thrill, but I never really stop to think about why. Maybe I’m just afraid of settling down, of staying in one place and missing out on everything else."

Y/N reached out and gently placed her hand on Abigail’s, giving it a comforting squeeze. "It’s okay to feel that way, Abby. You don’t have to have everything figured out right now. Life is about exploring, finding out what makes you happy. And if you’re not ready to settle down, that’s perfectly fine."

Abigail looked down at their joined hands, a small smile playing on her lips. "I guess so. But...what if I find something, or someone, that makes me want to stay? What if I’m too scared to admit it?"

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the implication of her words, but she kept her voice steady. "Then I think you owe it to yourself to explore that feeling. It might be the start of a new adventure, one that’s just as exciting as anything else you’ve experienced."

Abigail looked up, her eyes searching Y/N’s face for something, and Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. The connection between them felt electric, like the air was charged with possibility.

"Y/N," Abigail whispered, her voice barely audible, "I think...I think I’m starting to feel that way about you."

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of surprise and joy flooding through her. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, she leaned in, closing the distance between them, and pressed her lips gently to Abigail’s.

The kiss was soft and tentative, but it carried all the emotions they had been holding back. It was a kiss filled with the warmth of the sun, the sweetness of the lemonade, and the promise of something more.

When they finally pulled apart, Abigail’s cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled with a mixture of surprise and happiness. "Wow," she breathed, her voice full of wonder. "That was...really nice."

Y/N smiled, her own cheeks warm with a blush. "Yeah, it was."

Abigail’s smile grew wider, and she leaned her head on Y/N’s shoulder, letting out a content sigh. "Maybe...maybe this is the adventure I’ve been looking for all along."

Y/N wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close as they watched the stars twinkle above them. "Maybe it is. And I’d be more than happy to explore it with you."

They sat there together, wrapped in the warmth of their newfound connection, as the night settled around them. The future was uncertain, full of possibilities and challenges, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that they had found each other, and that was the start of a new adventure, one that they would face together.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions for both Y/N and Abigail. They continued their usual routines—Y/N tending to the farm, and Abigail splitting her time between the farm, the town, and her music—but now there was something new and exciting underlying everything they did together. It was as if the world had shifted, and suddenly, every moment they spent together was charged with the possibility of something more.

One afternoon, a week after their first kiss, Y/N found herself nervously pacing the farmhouse kitchen. She had invited Abigail over for lunch, and though they had spent plenty of time together recently, today felt different. She wanted everything to be perfect.

The table was set with care, a simple but delicious meal of fresh salad, bread, and a homemade vegetable soup simmering on the stove. Y/N had even gone out of her way to pick some wildflowers from the meadow to place in a vase on the table. As she glanced at the clock, she felt her nerves getting the best of her.

What if she doesn’t feel the same way anymore? What if that kiss was just a momentary thing?

Before she could spiral further into her thoughts, there was a knock on the door. Y/N quickly wiped her hands on her apron and rushed to open it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Abigail standing there with a bright smile on her face.

"Hey, Y/N!" Abigail greeted, stepping inside. "Something smells amazing. Did you make all this?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit bashful under Abigail’s gaze. "Yeah, I wanted to do something special for you. I hope you like it."

Abigail’s eyes softened as she looked around the cozy kitchen, taking in the effort Y/N had put into everything. "You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, but...I’m really glad you did. It’s perfect."

They sat down to eat, the conversation flowing easily as they enjoyed the meal. Y/N found herself relaxing, the warmth of Abigail’s presence easing her nerves. As they talked about their plans for the upcoming harvest season, Y/N couldn’t help but admire the way Abigail’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her passion for life shining through in every word.

After lunch, they took a walk around the farm, the summer sun casting a golden glow over the fields. The conversation turned to lighter topics—funny stories from town, the latest escapades of the town’s residents, and Abigail’s newest obsession with sword-fighting.

"I’ve been practicing with my sword every day," Abigail said with a grin, swinging an imaginary blade as they walked. "I’m getting pretty good, if I do say so myself."

Y/N laughed, watching her with fond amusement. "I’m sure you could take on anything that comes your way, Abby."

Abigail beamed at the praise, but then her expression grew more serious. She lowered her imaginary sword and turned to face Y/N, her eyes searching her face.

"Y/N, I’ve been thinking a lot about us...about what happened last week," she began, her voice steady but laced with emotion. "I just want you to know that...that kiss wasn’t just a one-time thing for me. I meant what I said. I really do care about you."

Y/N’s heart swelled with affection, and she reached out to take Abigail’s hand in hers. "I care about you too, Abby. More than I can even put into words. I don’t know where this is going, but I want to find out. With you."

Abigail’s face lit up with a radiant smile, and she squeezed Y/N’s hand. "I’m so glad to hear you say that. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it’s kind of scary, but...I want to see where this goes too. I want to be with you, Y/N."

Their confession hung in the air between them, heavy with promise and possibility. Without hesitation, Y/N pulled Abigail into a gentle embrace, holding her close as they stood in the middle of the sunlit field. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s arms.

As they pulled apart, Abigail looked up at Y/N, her eyes filled with a mixture of happiness and vulnerability. "So, what now?" she asked softly.

Y/N smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair behind Abigail’s ear. "Now...we take it one day at a time. We keep doing what we love, and we build something together. Whatever that ends up being."

Abigail nodded, her smile growing wider. "I like the sound of that. One day at a time, with you."

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, wandering the farm and talking about their hopes and dreams for the future. As the sun began to set once again, they found themselves back on the farmhouse porch, sitting side by side and watching the stars appear in the darkening sky.

This time, there was no need for words. They simply sat together, their hands intertwined, content in the knowledge that they had found something special in each other. The future was still uncertain, but with Abigail by her side, Y/N felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As they watched the stars twinkle above them, Y/N couldn’t help but think that this was the beginning of something beautiful—a love that would grow and thrive, just like the crops in her fields. And with Abigail by her side, she knew that this new adventure would be the greatest one yet.

The days turned into weeks, and soon enough, the harvest season was in full swing. The fields were bursting with crops ready to be harvested, and Y/N found herself busier than ever. But despite the long hours and hard work, there was a new lightness in her heart that made everything seem easier.

Abigail continued to visit the farm regularly, helping out where she could and always bringing her infectious energy with her. They fell into a comfortable routine, working together during the day and spending their evenings talking, laughing, and sometimes just sitting in companionable silence.

As the harvest season reached its peak, Y/N realized that she had never been happier. The farm was thriving, and so was her relationship with Abigail. They had become inseparable, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

One evening, after a particularly long day of harvesting, Y/N and Abigail sat on the porch, enjoying a well-deserved break. The sky was painted in shades of pink and purple, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of ripe fruit.

"This has been the best season yet," Y/N said with a satisfied sigh, leaning back in her chair. "I couldn’t have done it without you, Abby."

Abigail blushed at the compliment, but her eyes were filled with pride. "I’m just glad I could help. It’s been amazing watching everything grow, knowing that I had a part in it."

Y/N turned to look at her, a soft smile on her lips. "You’ve done more than help, Abby. You’ve made this place feel like home in a way I never expected."

Abigail’s expression softened, and she reached out to take Y/N’s hand. "You’ve done the same for me. I never thought I’d find a place where I truly belonged, but...I think I’ve found it here. With you."

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion, and she squeezed Abigail’s hand, her voice filled with sincerity. "I’m so glad you feel that way. Because I can’t imagine this farm, or my life, without you in it."

Abigail’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Y/N’s lips. It was a kiss filled with all the love and gratitude she felt, a promise of everything they had yet to experience together.

When they finally pulled apart, Abigail rested her forehead against Y/N’s, a content smile on her lips. "I love you, Y/N," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat at the words, and she smiled, her own eyes glistening with tears of happiness. "I love you too, Abby. More than I ever thought possible."

They sat together, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the stars began to twinkle above them. The future was still uncertain, but Y/N knew one thing for sure—whatever happened, she and Abigail would face it together.

As they watched the night sky, Y/N couldn’t help but think about how far they had come. What had started as a simple friendship had blossomed into something beautiful, something that had changed both of their lives in ways they could never have imagined.

And as they sat there, holding each other close, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of their story—a story filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities. And with Abigail by her side, she couldn’t wait to see what the future would bring.

[writingwhimsey]

Married to The Enemy- Shingen Ch. 13

Chapter 13

I woke up the next morning, a smile on my face as I greeted the sunshine streaming in through the windows. I couldn’t help but to think back to last night and the kiss Shingen and I shared. My cheeks warmed and my lips still tingled as the memory of his kiss lingered. His large arms wrapped around me and holding me close…the way his tongue moved in my mouth…the way he tasted.

I slowly sat up, putting my hands over my cheeks. The kiss had started off sweet…but when Shingen had begun to pull away, I couldn’t help myself. I had wanted more and chased after him. I don’t know what had come over me, but I…I couldn’t stop myself. Perhaps it was the magic that is Shingen.

Just then there was a knock on my door before it slid open and Saki was stepping inside. “Good morning, my lady.” She greeted me with a bright smile. “I can’t believe you’re already up this morning…and you’re blushing and covering your cheeks. Oh, something happened last night didn’t it? Tell me, tell me, tell me!” She was kneeling beside me and gently shaking me.

I giggled. “Alright, I’ll tell you.” I told her, though my cheeks only got redder. “We…we kissed by the lake under the fireworks.”

Saki let out a delighted squeal before embracing me. “Oh, that’s so exciting!” She gushed. “Alright, you have to tell me everything while we get you ready for the day.”

I rose from my futon and Saki and I moved to put it away before she was helping me to get changed and washed up for the day. She then started on my hair. “Okay, come on, I want the details of the kiss.” Saki said as she combed my hair. “What kind of kiss was it? Chaste? Deep kiss? Was there tongue? How did his lips feel? How did the kiss make you feel?”

I giggled. “You’re as excited as if you were the one who got kissed.”

“What? I’m excited for you. Now come on, tell me everything.”

“Well…it started off Shingen asking for the kiss and I agreed…and it was just a brush of his lips against mine…and then when he started to pull away…something came over me and I wanted more.”

“Oooh? What did you do?”

“I kind of…just followed him and the kiss continued…and his arms wrapped around me…and then I opened my mouth and his tongue slipped inside…and I was hanging onto him…thankfully because I think my knees grew weak.”

“Oooh, you’ve grown bold, my lady…and it sounds like Lord Shingen is one hell of a kisser.” Saki replied as she braided my hair. “I had a feeling he would be. The man just looks like he knows what to do with his lips and tongue.”

“He VERY clearly knows.” I replied with a giggle. “I honestly think I could just spend forever kissing him if it were possible.”

Saki giggled. “You know kissing can be a lead up to other things…and a preview for all the things a man can do with his lips and tongue.”

I flushed…I had had a very similar thought, which had almost led me to inviting Shingen into my bed last night…almost. I still wanted to build a better connection before we…connected.

“Something tells me you’ve been thinking the exact same thing since that kiss.” Saki said, grinning at me as she finished pinning up my hair. “Alright, I’ll run to the kitchen to grab your breakfast and then we will chat some more while you eat.”

“Alright.” I agreed.

Just as Saki stood up, there was a knock on my door. “Ava, may I come in?” Shingen called from the other side.

“Oh, of course, Shingen.” I answered.

Saki moved to slide open the door to reveal Shingen standing on the other side carrying two breakfast trays like he was the world’s most gorgeous waiter. “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought we could share breakfast together, if you have the time?”

“That is a perfect idea. Look at this husband of yours.” Saki said, grinning at me. “I’ll just leave you two alone.” She was then winking at me before bouncing out the door as Shingen came in.

“Thank you, Shingen, I’d like to share breakfast with you.” I told him, my cheeks reddening as I looked up at him, still remembering our kiss.

Shingen smiled at me as he walked in and sat the trays down in front of me. He then sat down so that we were sitting across from each other. “I hope you don’t mind indulging with me a bit more this morning.” He said…and instantly my mind was thinking back to our kiss.

“Hmm?” I asked, my cheeks reddening, though I was definitely warm to the idea of indulging in more kisses from Shingen.

Shingen chuckled as he gestured to the trays of food. “I thought we should have more sweets.”

I looked down and saw that both of our trays were indeed filled with sweet treats for breakfast. I let out an embarrassed giggle. “I don’t mind…”

Shingen lifted a hand to my chin. “That lovely flush on your face tells me you were thinking of something else.” He said, tracing his thumb over my lower lip, causing a warm tingly sensation to flow over me. “I wouldn’t mind indulging in that sweet as well.” His eyes were warm and seductive, his voice washing over me like melted chocolate.

My brain was threatening to overheat. I struggled through the heat of my brain and body to form words of resistance…though I did VERY much want to indulge in more of Shingen’s kisses…more of Shingen…I still had things I had to do, and I know he did too. Also…I wasn’t sure I was ready for what would come if we started kissing here and now… in my bedroom.

“I…uh…if we start that now, we’ll both end up being late today.” I replied, fighting my flustered state.

Shingen chuckled. “You’re probably right. And I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your work, my angel…but I still can’t help myself.” He said, leaning over to kiss me on the forehead. “I have to take a small indulgence.” He told me as he pulled away, a roguish grin on his face.

My cheeks warmed, but I smiled. “I will allow it.” I replied, playfully.

“My goddess is generous.” He replied.

We began to eat our breakfast, the sweet pastries, reminding me of the sweet breakfasts I used to indulge in back in the modern day. My favorites being the pancakes and waffles my mother used to make…or the donuts she would buy before heading into work for the day.

“Why do you have such a look on your face?” Shingen asked, lifting a hand to caress my cheek.

“Oh, I…I was just thinking about these things my mother used to make for breakfast.” I answered. “They were sweets and quite delicious.”

“It sounds like you have many fond memories of her.” Shingen replied.

I nodded. “Yes. Things weren’t always easy, but she did her best and I always knew she loved me.”

We enjoyed our breakfast and chatted a bit more. Maids were coming to take our trays away. “Might I have the honor of escorting you to the other seamstresses for the day?” Shingen asked.

I smiled. “I would like that. As long as I’m not keeping you from your work.”

Shingen smiled as he took my hand. “Not at all.”

We walked through the halls together, our hands entwined…it still amazed me just how large his hands were. It struck me that during winter time, Shingen would be a great source of warmth. His large warm body completely encompassing me, holding me tightly to that broad chest…

“What are you thinking about, Ava?” Shingen asked, a playful smile on his lips.

I flushed as I realized my face had likely betrayed my thoughts. Something Mitsuhide had constantly teased me for back in Azuchi. “N-nothing.” I replied. “Just…wondering if I’ll have any commissions today.”

Shingen chuckled. “I am sure you will. Especially once people learn you were the one to make our clothes at the festival last night.”

I eyed Shingen suspiciously. “Is that why you made it a point to tell everyone who complimented your clothes that I made them?” I asked.

Shingen smiled warmly. “I just wanted to make sure everyone recognized your talents, Ava.”

I honestly felt like I could cry from Shingen’s thoughtfulness. Commissioning the matching pieces from me wasn’t just a way to make me feel closer to him…but a way for him to help me in establishing myself as a seamstress here in Echigo. I was suddenly hit with the very strong urge to kiss him. I stopped walking.

Shingen stopped with me. “Ava?”

I turned to Shingen, looking up at him. “I’m starting to think you eating all those sweets has just made you the sweetest thing.” I told him before stretching up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

Shingen seemed surprised for a moment, but only a moment. His arms wrapped around me and his lips began to move with mine, quickly deepening the kiss. My body began to warm and tingle pleasantly just as it had the night before.

When we broke the kiss, we were both panting, Shingen’s arms were still around me. He smiled at me. “What was that for?” He asked. “I’d like to know what I did to deserve such a treat so that I might do it again.”

I giggled. “That…was a thank you for the continued kindness you show me.” I answered, smiling up at him.

“Hmm, I’ll have to remember that.” He said,giving me a kiss on the forehead. “I should be letting you get to work.”

“As I should you.” I replied, looking up into those seductive gray eyes. “Perhaps…we can indulge more tonight?” I found myself suggesting…maybe I was ready. Shingen’s kisses did stoke a fire in me. Even if I wasn’t, I knew if I said kissing was enough, Shingen would respect me and stop. He wouldn’t push me too far.

“This is going to be a long day.” He said, wearing a grin. “But I am a patient man.”

We shared another kiss, this one briefer before I headed for the seamstress’s room and Shingen went off to tend to his duties for the day. He was right, it was going to be a long day waiting for tonight.

Tag list: @limonzu @oda-princess @zulablaise @kisara-16 @tele86 @selenacosmic

[atiny-piratequeen]

𝑯𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒄-𝑨𝑭𝑨𝑩 𝑽𝒆𝒓 (18+)

𓆩♡𓆪 Pairing: Jung Wooyoung (Ateez) x Seo Changbin (Stray Kids) x Nonbinary! Choi Yeonjun (Tomorrow x Together) x Gender-Neutral AFAB Reader

𓆩♡𓆪Rating: Explicit (18+)

𓆩♡𓆪 Genre: Smut, Humor, Sex Worker Au, Established Relationship, Fluff

𓆩♡𓆪SWs: Sex Work (Pornography, Nude Photos, Consensual Filming, the use of a “Fluffer”), Switch Reader, Switch Idols, Group Sex, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Thigh Grinding, Hair Pulling, Cock Riding, Lingerie, Multiple Orgasms, Bondage/Shibari, Teasing, Finger Sucking, Pussy Grinding, Pussy Slapping, Cock Ring, Sex Toy, Cock Sharing, Aftercare

𓆩♡𓆪 WC: 6.2k 

𓆩♡𓆪A/N: Whew first fic of ‘23! Thank you all for your patience and thank @jacksons-goddess-gaia for commissioning yet another interesting work from me! I hope you like it and I would like folks to know there are TWO versions of this fic (as evidenced by the title.) This version will be with a GN AFAB reader, and the AMAB version will be linked in the bullet point underneath. I hope everyone who reads this enjoys, and if you do please remember to like and reblog~

𓆩♡𓆪 AMAB Ver

𓆩♡𓆪 AO3 | Taglist Form | Commission Sheet

𓆩♡𓆪 ©atiny-piratequeen/nocturne-overtures 2023. do not repost, translate, or use my works. Minors DNI

•❥Network Pings: @kwritersworld | @kdiarynet | @k-vanity

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It all started because of Jung Wooyoung. 

You never expected to get a request for a collaboration any time soon when you’d started camming. As you reread the notification over and over, you feel your leg bounce below you under the table. 

Not only was he another model, but he was also popular, making videos for damn near every demographic under the sun. You stare at his subscriber count, and for much longer than you cared to admit, you wonder if this is some kind of joke. 

‘I don’t mind collabing at all, but I’d like to see you face to face first and talk this out, if possible?’

He responded faster than you expect him to, asking if you’d like to meet up at a well-known family-owned cafe and book chain located in town. 

Up until the very moment you push open the cafe doors, you hold onto a healthy level of skepticism that this was even real. 

Reality sets in the moment you look across the moderately busy cafe and your eyes land on the dark-haired man in question, laughing as he reached over the table to fix the bangs of a buffer gentleman, though he was a bit on the shorter end. 

“Um…Good afternoon, I’m sorry I’m late.” You apologize and give both men a bow. Wooyoung recognized you and perked up immediately, nudging the man beside him. 

“There you are, Y/n! We finally get to meet!” He smiled at you like you were an old friend and you feel a bit of shyness creep into your bones before you clear your throat and wave. 

“Hello. I’m sorry I’m late!” You bow again and look at the man sitting beside Wooyoung curiously. 

“This is Changbin, he’s my boyfriend.” He smiled easily and you feel like the hamster running on the wheel in your brain tripped, fell, and flew clean off the damn thing. 

Clearly, Changbin is used to things like this, waving gently. 

“Don’t be nervous. I’m not here to cause trouble. I actually help Wooyoung with recording. Yeonjun is floating around too but when they get ready, they’ll join us too, if that’s okay. They do makeup and hair for any still photoshoots we may have.” 

You feel like everyone is on a completely different page of a different book while you’re stuck in the revolving doors of the metaphorical library but eventually, your thoughts kickstart back on and you nod slowly. 

“So..you have a little team for your channel? That’s…actually pretty neat. Have you always helped out?” You take a seat across from the couple, grateful for the carefree attitude of Changbin and the literal ball of compressed sunshine that made up Wooyoung’s entire being. 

“He said he wanted to try it out to gain a bit of confidence so I shopped around for a decent camera and we started with amateur-styled things first before we got the hang of it and moved to this platform,” Changbin answered honestly, an arm loosely around the back of Wooyoung’s chair. Wooyoung pressed a kiss to his jaw and smiled. 

“He’s in a bunch of them too but he never shows his face. Well, not fully. The blindfold and mask don’t cover that much…” He trailed off, leg swinging idly as Changbin went a bit red in the face, thinking back to that particular video where he’d let Wooyoung tie him to their bed and ride him while he lay blindfolded and bound. 

You listen and look from Wooyoung to Changbin, arching a brow. 

“So…which one of you thought to bring me in?” You inquire curiously. Wooyoung smiled, his nose scrunching while Changbin glanced behind you. 

“That would be me.” 

You nearly jump out of your skin as a person sits beside you, balancing a platter of powdered croissants on their hand. They look at you with an amused smirk, extending a hand. 

“Name’s Yeonjun.” 

You take their hand, shaking it a few times as you hold your hand to your chest, your heart beating erratically from the startle. They seem amused by it, propping their cheek up in their palm as they look at you with half-lidded eyes. 

“Your eyes are nice.” 

Your blink and clear your throat, ignoring the heat crawling up the back of your neck as Yeonjun seemingly checked you out. 

“Don’t mind them. Let’s talk about why we’re here.” Wooyoung spoke up, drawing your attention back to him. 

“I’ve seen your videos after Jun suggested the collaboration. If it’s okay with you, I’d really like to work with you and do some sets together.” he spoke with a smile on his face, foot swinging to and fro under the table. The heat crawls all the way up to your ears as you cough quietly. 

“I haven’t been with any other um…”actors” before, so I don’t know where to begin. If I’m being quite honest, this is a bit on the sudden end and I don’t know you well enough for me to have confidence and say yes immediately.” You speak honestly, wringing your hands as they sat on the table. None of them speak immediately, and a small chill of uncertainty rolled through you. 

A lot of people would jump at this chance. Free promotion for your own works, Wooyoung was a very attractive man and Changbin seemed to be very supportive of his partner’s endeavors. The more the silence went on, the more anxious you feel until finally; 

“I mean that’s fair. Would you like to hang out some ime or anything like that? Even if you don’t want to collaborate, it’s not like we can’t be friends.” Wooyoung spoke, seemingly sorting out his words in his head first. A wave of relief washed over you as Changbin kissed Wooyoung’s head and then stood. 

“I’m gonna go get some drinks for us all. Anyone want anything?”

“Can I have the new fruit drink on the menu? The wildberry one?” Wooyoung batted his lashes at Changbin and his boyfriend responded with a laugh and a nod, looking at Yeonjun. They cocked a brow at him before he nodded. 

“Right. Neapolitan coffee. And you? What would you like, Y/n? It’s my treat.” He smiled softly. You feel your shoulders relax a bit as you tell him your preferred drink. As he stepped away from the table, you turn your attention back to Yeonjun. 

“How did you come to be the stylist for Wooyoung?” You inquire. Yeonjun let out a chuckle, completely relaxed beside you. 

“Wooyoung and I have been friends for years. I’ve seen him naked more times than I can count. So I figured I’d help him out. I can’t even trust this one to do skincare without beating the hell out of his own cheeks, I don’t trust him to bring out his own features.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with how I do skincare!”

“Boy please, you beat your own cheeks harder than Changbin and I do.” 

You startle a barista walking by with the ungodly snort that left your lips as you burst into laughter, watching as Wooyoung swatted Yeonjun’s shoulder. It took nearly a full minute for you and Yeonjun to stop laughing as Wooyoung, which was made harder as he grew flustered, scolding the two of you.

Changbin came back with a confused look on his face, brow arching as Wooyoung pointed at Yeonjun. 

"THEY’RE FIRED!"

"Yeah, good luck getting that smokey eye perfected, then."

Wooyoung let out a scandalized gasp and Yeonjun smirked. 

"Sure you wanna fire me, bestie?" 

Wooyoung huffed and Yeonjun let out a laugh, seemingly satisfied. Changbin shook his head and placed your drink in front of you, sending you a smile. 

"If you want, you can choose the next place we go on a date at. I think it's best we all get to know each other better regardless of your decision at the end."

You smile and nod. "I'd love to. Thank you."

The rest of the day was comfortable and you'd ended up exchanging numbers with all three of them. 

You head out of the shower later, making sure the trio knew you’d gotten settled in just fine and hadn’t had any issues. As you dry your hair, curiosity nibbled at you and you find yourself taking a look back at Wooyoung’s account. 

Your leg bounced idly as you scroll through some of his photoshoots, admiring the quality and work put into them. 

There was something about meeting the team behind the art that made you appreciate it all the more. As you scroll, you finally find some where Changbin is present, the first being a POV shot of Wooyoung on his knees, lipstick smudged across his lips as he kissed the tip of Changbin’s cock.

“He’s in a bunch of them too but he never shows his face.”

Perhaps Changbin was every bit as versatile as his boyfriend, since the pictures regularly flip flopped between who was the top or bottom. You’re pretty sure you can even see Yeonjun in a few of them, especially the one of Wooyoung riding Chanbin as a different hand wove itself into his hair, tugging back so his body would be on display. 

You feel a telltale ache between your legs and feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you close your laptop. 

“Okay yeah, that’s enough of that.” You mutter quietly, flustered as you get under the covers. 

It took you a full hour of tossing and turning before you toss them back off of your legs, grumbling in annoyance. 

“There’s no way I can fucking sleep like this.” You sigh out in frustration before you move to grab your laptop again. You utter a few flustered lies to yourself, before you start browsing, eventually settling on one with a romantic title. 

Admittedly, no matter how good of an actor he may be, you find yourself giggling a bit at Wooyoung’s acting as he came into frame, romantic lighting in the room. He’d stripped himself slowly, dropping each article of clothing haphazardly onto the floor, smiling with a seductive half-lidded gaze as the lingerie clung to his body in all the right places. 

The humor in you died off as you bite your lip, watching as Wooyoung crawled into Changbin’s lap, kissing him slowly as he rolled his hips downward. Yeonjun would star in these sets, as well, you found out, but undoubtedly it was Changbin Wooyoung was currently seducing, rolling his hips down onto his thick thigh, riding slowly. 

You bite your lip and try to jump ahead a little bit, but end up going a bit too far, landing on the timestamp where Wooyoung had his arms wrapped around Changbin’s shoulders, head thrown back as he rode him like he was his last lifeline. Your eyes drift down Wooyoung’s body, the bra completely absent and the panties to the lingerie ripped enough for Changbin’s thick cock to slide between his cheeks. 

Wooyoung rolled his hips, looking back as he clenched around Changbin’s cock, the lube making a mess of both of them as Changbin reached around to plant both of his hands on Wooyoung’s ass. He let out a delghted purr before he felt Changbin bounce him, making him go at his faster, more desperate pace as he pulled him closer and closer to release. 

Your hand found its way between your legs as you watch, eyes glued on your screen as you finger yourself, thankful for the headphones in your ears, picking up every gasp, moan, and growl as Wooyoung finally came, tightening his grip around Changbin’s shoulders as he rode him, his ass jiggling with every bounce as eventually he achieved his desired goal;

Milking Changbin’s cock. 

You curl your fingers as you watch Changbin’s balls throb and draw up, his cock soon covered with his own cum as Wooyoung never slowed his hips, purring. 

“That’s it, that’s what I want.” He mewed, rolling his hips at a slower pace like he was going to stop before he smiled wickedly and kept going. 

“I’m not done~”

You don’t know how many times you’d restarted and watched that particular video over and over, but by the end of it, as you make your bambi-legged walk of shame to take a(nother) shower, you idly wonder just what kind of videos you’d shoot with Wooyoung if you were to accept. 

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

 “Do you ever feel like you’re third wheeling when you’re with them?” You inquire, watching as Wooyoung and Changbin wander over to a dinosaur exhibit. Yeonjun stood beside you, sipping a drink with circular rimmed glasses on their face as they watched the two point at different plaques and read off fun facts. 

“Not really. They’re practically my boyfriends at this point, both of them just suck dicks at actually initiating.” 

You nearly choke on the pretzel in your hands as a woman passing by gives Yeonjun a scandalized look, hurrying away. They didn’t seem to care, watching the two with a quiet gaze. You watch their side profile before looking towards the two, watching as Wooyoung finally noticed you and Yeonjun had fallen behind. He rushed up to you both and smiled. 

“C’mon, quit daydreaming! They have a T-Rex over there!” He darted off, expecting you two to follow at the same pace. You find yourself laughing and looking over at Yeonjun, matching their pace as they made their way into the exhibit. 

“Is that why it was you who initiated this collab thing?” 

“Yep. Wooyoung thinks you’re cute and mentioned it in passing. Changbin told him to dm you. Both of them are idiots and didn’t do anything about it. So I did.” They hum, looking up at a brachiosaurus. You blink, taking a moment to let the words catch up to you before you look over at Woo and Changbin, finding Woo stealing glances at you and Yeonjun’s general direction. 

“It’s fine if you don’t want anything like that. Plenty of people don’t mix business with pleasure. To be honest, you could tell us you’d like to stay a friend and not do anything of the sort and that’d be fine with any of us.” They send you a smile and a wink before making their way over to Wooyoung. 

You look to the three of them, feeling a smile tug at your lips before following. 

To your (pleasant) surprise, none of them pressed you on the collaboration, as promised. Months had gone by, with Wooyoung posting his content and you posting yours, all while the four of you went on dates in between. 

Museums, art galleries, amusement parks, dinners out under the stars-

You’d honestly felt spoiled by all of this. And it was while you sat leaning against Changbin while Wooyoung and Yeonjun bickered over how to cook dinner right, that you spoke; 

“I think I want to do the collab.”

The chatter died immediately and two heads poked out of the kitchen while Changbin looked down in surprise.

“So suddenly?” 

“Yeah. You said it’s best we get to know each other better…it’s been nearly a year. I want to.” 

Wooyoung leaned over the back of the couch, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Should we talk about it over dinner? I already have something in mind, it’s been in my idea draft folder but if you want in, I think it’d be wonderful-” You laugh as he chattered on, moving aside so he could sit beside you, half of his ass practically in Changbin’s lap as he spoke to you. 

Yeonjun joined after a while, and for the rest of the night, the four of you talked casually about do’s and don’t, each other’s boundaries, things you all wanted to try, and everything in between.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

“Almost done, baby. Good job.”

As you stand beside Yeonjun, you shift from foot to foot, watching as Changbin carefully spoke to Wooyoung through the entire process of him tying him up. The two exchanged sweet nothings and a few kisses here and there, laughing occasionally as they sat in their own world. 

“You look nervous. Are you sure you wanna do it today?” they inquire, looking over at you. You nod, sending them a kind smile. 

“I’m nervous because it’s the first set, but I’m sure I’ll settle into it once its my turn.” You respond. Yeonjun smiled and looked back at the two.

“Ah, he’s finished. Go ahead, love. Changbin will take care of you while I make sure Woo stays fluffed and ready.” They spoke with an exaggerated sigh, though they looked absolutely ecstatic at the idea of teasing Wooyoung’s cock. Wooyoung clearly noticed, sending them a challenging eyebrow raise. 

“Try not to have it end up down your throat like last time.” He sassed. Yeonjun’s lips quirked, a spark of chaos behind them. 

“Have it down my throat? Got it.”

You look up as Changbin came over to you, smiling as he held up a bundle of rope of your favorite color. He excused himself, kneeling. 

“You’re okay with this still, right?” He inquired. You nod, moving your arms behind your back as instructed as Changbin got to work tying the intricate knots. You occasionally feel his fingers brush against your skin, goosebumps rising in their wake. His breath ghosting across your abdomen has the same effect, and without meaning to, you meet his gaze as you look down at him. 

Neither of you say a word as you hold eye contact. 

The moment is broken by a sharp curse coming from Wooyoung as he tried to buck up into Yeonjun’s mouth, only to be foiled by them yanking his hips down thanks to the ropes. A pleased purr rumbled from somewhere at the back of their throat as they popped their mouth off, stroking him with a Chesire grin stretched across their face. 

“You always talk so much shit but then crumble apart the moment I get my mouth on you, I think you like being a brat a bit too much. Remember, Wooyoungie-” Yeonjun’s smile grew wider as they bit into the dip at Wooyoung’s hip, pushing his hips down when he bucked once more.

“-I’m not Changbin, I’ll edge you until you fall apart, you little shit.”

Changbin rolled his eyes and moved you around, setting you on your back and pulling your knee up. 

“With this position, please let me know if you feel any cramping, even if we’re in the middle of a scene, I’ll come and let you stretch them out, okay?” He cooed to you and you nod, letting him move and adjust your body as needed. As your head hit the pillow, you find yourself focusing on the calm thrumming of your own heart. The silk of the rope rubbed pleasantly against your thighs as Changbin bound your ankles. 

Its when his hands brush against your clit that you let out a sharp inhale. He looked to your face for any signs of discomfort, but you simply nod and whisper for him to keep going. He nodded and continued, adjusting the knot so every move of your body would make it rub against your clit, his fingers rubbing against your clit a few times in the process. 

You see his cheeks darken ever so slightly as you moan softly, but neither of you comment on it, and soon you’re ready, your nipples hard as Changbin tested the rope strength and made sure the knots were firm. The sound of sucking and Wooyoung groaning in frustration pop the two of you out of your little bubble as Changbin looked over to Yeonjun and Wooyoung. 

“Yeonjun leave my baby alone before I rope your ass up, too.”

“Oh, please do.”

You turn your head in time to see Changbin place a thunderous ass slap to Yeonjun’s ass. They shot up and Changbin chuckled as he picked Wooyoung up, setting him beside you so both of you were facing each other. Wooyoung stuck his tongue out at Yeonjun before turning to look at you, immediately switching his gaze into a sultry one. 

“Hey there, sexy. Come here often?”

You match his expression, letting Changbin-and a sulking Yeonjun-move the two of you around for the shot. 

“No, but after today, I might like to.”

You miss the way both Yeonjun and Changbin perk above you, exchanging a look with one another and an ecstatic smile. Wooyoung’s eyes lit up as well, before he tilted his head ever so slightly.  

“I’d be really happy if you did come back for more…You look amazing, by the way.” Wooyoung whispered, as if speaking above that level would break the immersion. The goosebumps return to your skin before Changbin cupped both of your chins. 

“We’re going to start. Let me know if anything is too tight or if you feel yourself cramping up at all.” He spoke slowly, making sure to look both of you in the eyes. It made you feel comfortable, that he spoke to you and Wooyoung as if it were both of your first times instead of just yours. It didn’t put you on the spot, and without thinking, you press an appreciative kiss to his palm as he asks again for affirmations. 

“Do you both understand?”

“Yes, Binnie/Yes, Sir.”  

With that, Changbin switched places with Yeonjun and picked up the camera. 

Your focus shifted to Yeonjun immediately as they drag their thumbs over both of your lips. You hear camera clicks behind them, but it doesn’t distract you, your eyes locked onto their face. You can’t help but to find your mind wandering. The three of them really did look so attractive when they were focused. 

Yeonjun’s eyes were hooded and you felt a chill run down your spine as the two of you locked eyes. 

“Open your mouths just a bit.” Changbin instructed and you part your lips, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as Yeonjun’s thumb sat on your bottom lip. You can hardly hear the camera in Changbin’s hands anymore as you flick your tongue over the pad of Yeonjun’s thumb. 

A pleased rumble passes through their lips as Wooyoung does the same, slowly sucking their thumb into his mouth. The two of you slowly curl your tongue over Yeonjun’s thumbs, lips parted slightly so Changbin could get the shots. Yeonjun’s fingers twitch ever so slightly and you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest as you notice their arousal.  

You glance down at the prominent bulge before slowly dragging your gaze up their lean body, tilting your head with a smile as you wrap your lips around their thumb. 

“Y/n.” Yeonjun growled out, and a pleased shiver ran up and down your spine. 

“I’m gonna move you two around.” Changbin informed you both as he grabbed Wooyoung, giving him a slow, gentle kiss before getting him comfy at the center of the bed. He looked towards you, sleeves rolled up as he grabbed your waist, picking you up with ease. You can’t help your eyes gravitating to his muscles, a purr leaving your lips. 

“What, I don’t get a kiss too?” You tease, quirking a brow at him. Changbin’s brow arched before he looked at Wooyoung. The two exchange a small thoughtful hum before Changbin cocked his head. 

“Depends. You want one?” 

You stare at him with slightly widened eyes, looking over at Wooyoung, who was watching you both with interest. Yeonjun had sat beside him, gently running their fingers up and down his abdomen as they rested their chin in their free hand, waiting. 

You look back at Changbin and clear your throat slightly. 

“Maybe I do want one.”

He leaned, pressing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. It took a moment for your brain to catch up and realize this was real and actually happening, but when you do, you press back against him, grateful for his steady grip on your bound body as he balanced you in his arms. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you apologize halfheartedly to Yeonjun for the lipstick that had definitely gotten smudged as Changbin’s tongue finds its way into your mouth. 

“A damn shame we don’t have the mask. This would’ve been a perfect shot of them kissing while you eat pussy, Wooyoung.” Yeonjun sighed, lightly raking their nails over one of Wooyoung’s nipples. Wooyoung groaned and rose his hips uselessly, watching as a pretty clear string of precum fell from between your legs as Changbin broke the kiss. 

Changbin put his forehead to yours, looking into your eyes before he gave you a brief, chaste kiss and set you ontop of Wooyoung. 

You blush the moment you realize how heated both of your bodies are, and once you look up at Wooyoung to ask him if the kiss was really okay, you find the words caught in your mouth as he looked down at you. 

“Yeonjun, I’m gonna fuck up my lipstick, too.” He spoke without his eyes leaving yours. You feel yourself throb in anticipation, aching dully as Yeonjun stands and sighed dramatically. 

“As if you don’t always ruin my hard work anyway. Go on and kiss while I get your baby all ready.” Yeonjun set up the camera, waving a hand and letting a video play as they and Changbin stood just behind in, moving so subtly you could barely hear them as Wooyoung leaned in to kiss you. 

You meet him half way, craning your neck up and humming in delight as your breasts squish against his chest. Whereas Changbin’s kiss tasted of coffee, Wooyoung tasted of something sweet you couldn’t put your finger on. You feel his muscles twitch below you, a small frustrated growl leaving his lips at the reminder he couldn’t wrap his arms around you. 

A small inhale from across the room draws your attention for a moment and you break the kiss with Wooyoung, kissing down to his neck for the camera, while you were actually stealing a peek at what Yeonjun and Changbin had been up to.

You clench on nothing when you find Yeonjun watching the two of you, their hand over Changbin’s mouth and the other wrapped around his cock as they stroked him slowly. You could see every vein on his cock even from here, and it made your mouth water instantly at the thought of it inside of you. 

Yeonjun caught you stealing glances and purred something into Changbin’s ear, stroking faster as they rolled their thumb over the head of his cock, smearing precum along the tip. 

‘Look at them, they’re both practically begging for your cock. 

They nibble at Changbin’s earlobe and mutter something you can’t hear, and you remember you shouldn’t stare for too long, turning your head to kiss Wooyoung once more. He happily responded in kind, lifting his hips to grind his cock against your folds as best he could. 

“Wooyoung-” Your voice came out breathless against his lips as your hips twitch. Both of you did your best to rut against one another, your nipples perked and erect against his chest as he lifted his hips. 

At some point the camera is moved, and you can hear the sound of shutter clicks as Wooyoung rolled his hips up, grinding his cock against your clit. 

“Good boy, I bet it aches so much, doesn’t it? Being sooo~ Close to Y/n’s pussy but not being able to have it. I bet you could slip riiight inside with how wet they are.” Yeonjun purred from behind the both of you. A pathetic and frustrated sound ripped from Wooyoung’s chest as Yeonjun paused in their teasing to grab his cock, stroking it right against your entrance. 

It took everything in you not to just sit down and take every inch, but just as soon as the thought crossed your mind, Yeonjun stopped teasing Wooyoung, taking a few pictures of his cock right against your pussy before they reached to cup your core, rubbing slowly. 

“Fuck!” You curse, pressing against Wooyoung as you raise your hips, chasing Yeonjun’s soft touch against your clit. They chuckle and rub your clit in fast circles, leaning into your ear as you moan and rut against their hand. 

“Look at you, you’re a natural~” They purr, pulling their hand away after a moment. 

“You don’t even need me to keep you interested, both of you are enjoying each other’s company just fine~” They sing, laughing as you subtly raise your hips to try and get them to keep touching you. 

“Oh? For me? You shouldn’t have~” They purr, licking the precum off of their fingers before planting a firm slap to your pussy. A jolt of pleasure shot up from your clit all the way up to your spine and it’s only Wooyoung’s presence that kept you from completely falling face first into the sheets as your body quivered in excitement. 

“We have a shoot to do, darling. Focus on that and maybe I’ll give you more treats later.” They tease, walking away from the two of you to grab the camera. 

You can feel yourself aching for release as Yeonjun took a few more pictures, and a passing comment about how wet you were and how much you’d gotten on Wooyoung’s cock made you clench. 

“You both okay?” Changbin inquired, having rolled a ring down over his cock to keep himself hard as he moved you and Wooyoung around, untying your legs and slowly stretching them for you before he took a step back to think, eyes wandering over both of your bodies. 

You nod, leaning on Wooyoung as you try to keep your head from spinning. He put his head on yours, giving an affirmation that he, too, was okay and Yeonjun whispered something into Changbin’s ear once more. 

His face lit up with inspiration, moving the ropes around with skill, his tongue poking out as he concentrated. 

You find yourself bound to Wooyoung with a hitachi wand settled into the ropes. Changbin had settled you in Wooyoung’s lap, and both of you could feel the head of the wand right against yourselves as Yeonjun came close to admire the work. 

“I know I’m a genius when it comes to ideas, but you really can take most anything and put it into your rope work, huh?” They praised idly, taking a few pictures. You meet Wooyoung’s gaze, and wonder if he can feel the thundering anticipation of your own heart as you wait for the buzzing of the toy. 

Wooyoung looked every bit as excited as you felt, lipstick smudged onto the corner of his lips and even his cheek as he leaned up for another kiss. Changbin’s hands find their way into both of your hair, pulling just hard enough to make you both inhale sharply, tilting your heads back. 

Its then when you come face to face with Changbin’s cock. Thick and throbbing, its right in front of both of you and you’re almost embarrassed by the way you felt your mouth water. You almost go cross-eyed staring. Movement caught your attention, and you can feel Wooyoung’s breath as he leaned closer despite the grip in his hair, kissing the side of his cock. You mirror him, running your lips over the other side. 

Changbin groaned, keeping still with an impressive amount of control for someone having their dick kissed and teased by two people. Wooyoung moved his head down, lapping at Changbin’s balls and you take the opportunity to slide him into your mouth, dragging your tongue along the slit before dipping the tip if it in, purring to yourself as his hips twitched ever so slightly. 

Yeonjun moved somewhere in the room, but you hardly pay it any mind as you bob your head, trying to see how far down on his cock yoy could leave your lipstick mark. Wooyoung noticed and watched with half lidded eyes as you swallow down a little over half of his cock, your eyes watering as you hold yourself down. Wooyoung smiled at you like the cat that ate the canary, moving his lips off of Changbin’s balls to gently nudge your cheek. 

You move and watch Wooyoung slide down slowly, his throat bulged out as he wrapped his lips just short of the base of Changbin’s cock. You watch in wonder, seeing Wooyoung’s throat move as Changbin slowly fucked it, and you take the time to lick at Wooyoung’s bulging adam’s apple. 

He moaned quietly before it turned into a choked gasp, one you shared with him as you suddenly feel the wand situated between the two of you switch on. The two of you squirm and writhe, not realizing every jolt and movement only pressed you both closer to each other, and thus kept the wand firmly in place between you. 

Changbin watched you both with hooded eyes, grabbing his cock at the base and stroking it slowly in front of both of your faces without a word. He looked ready to burst, his cock flushed a lovely shade of dark pink as you and Wooyoung met in the middle, moaning around the head of his cock as you shared a kiss. 

Gradually, the speed and intensity of the vibrations turned up until both you and Wooyoung were incoherently rutting against one another, moaning and kissing each other and Changbin’s cock as you chased your orgasm. 

You feel your muscles tense, sweat rolling down your body as you hump and grind against Wooyoung and the toy, a coil tightening in your stomach. Wooyoung is just as bad, mouth open as swears and pleads for it not to stop cascade out of his mouth. 

Changbin stepped away without you realizing, letting Yeonjun have the full shot with the best lighting as you and Wooyoung finally cum. Your pussy clenches around nothing, tears running down your cheeks as you tried-and failed-to decide if you wanted to rut more into the wand or shy away from the powerful sensations. 

You wouldn’t have been able to in this state, anyway. 

Wooyoung threw his head back, body jolting as he thrusted upwards, sending the head of the toy against your clit as he came all over both of your stomachs, a string of colorful words freefalling from his lips. 

You whine and pant, feeling hand in your hair, and you realize Changbin has moved back into place again, stroking his cock in both of your faces, the ring discarded somewhere. Wooyoung and you both open your mouths, occasionally jolting and trembling as the toy buzzed on between you. 

Changbin bit his lip hard, chest rising and falling quickly as he finally came, thick ropes of cum landing across both your faces and along your tongues. Changbin made sure to milk his cock, stroking and squeezing until every last drop had landed on either you or Wooyoung before he stepped out of the way, letting Yeonjun come close for the final shots. 

You and Wooyoung look up, panting quietly before licking your lips, mirroring Yeonjun behind the camera. You glance at Wooyoung and lean up for a kiss, sharing the last few drops with him as Yeonjun filmed. 

“And we’re done.” Yeonjun called, setting the camera aside and turning the wand off. You let your head thump onto Wooyoung’s shoulder as you try and catch your breath, feeling Changbin untie you both. 

“You okay?” He inquired, helping you out of Wooyoung’s lap. 

“Holy fuck.” You murmur after a moment, hearing all three of them burst into laughter.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

You smile and thank Changbin after he finished helping you stretch, a bottle of lotion situated on the downstairs table. He moved over to Wooyoung to help him with his sore muscles and you can see Yeonjun curled up on the couch, glasses on their face as they edited the videos and pictures. 

“I hope you had fun, Y/n. I know I did.” Wooyoung hummed, smiling and giving Changbin a spiderman kiss after pulling him down to his level. You take a sip of tea as Changbin kissed him back. 

“I meant it. You’re a natural.” Yeonjun praised, voice sounding absent as they cropped certain frames out of the overall video. You feel heat creep to the back of your neck as you nurse your cup of tea. 

“I think…I’ll want to do some more in the future. If that’s alright with everyone here.” You say after a moment. Wooyoung and Changbin look at you in surprise and Yeonjun smiled, tilting their head to the left. 

“I knew you’d be a good edition.”

“Y/n! This is great!” Wooyoung shot up and crawled over to you, setting his chin on your knees like a puppy. You could swear there were stars in his eyes as he looked at you. It made you flustered, and you lightly turn his head to look away from you, only for it to snap back where it originally was. 

“This means you can choose the next set, Y/n. It’s only fair.” Changbin told you, picking Wooyoung up with ease and making him lay down as he rubbed the lotion on his legs and checked the rope marks. 

You bring the cup up to your lips, smiling ever so slightly. 

“I’ll take some time to think about it, then.” 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Taglist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@kimnamshiks @atiny-dazzlinglight @angel0taiyo @not-majestic-bluenicorn  @daisyhwa @gettin-a-lil-hanse @yunhofingers @xlilehx @skmoonchild @seomisaho @asyamonet22​ @drunk-on-hwa​ @shingisimp​ @dreamyinception-world​ @soluvcore​ @twistedsiren​ @xuxibelle​ 

[tonysslut]

Hey, I love your writing so much. Would you mind writing a fic where the reader and tony share a platonic love, like they can be best friends or something like that. A fluffy one where he comforts her in a bad day. Its really hard to find this kind of fics for him . ☺️

Hi, angel! Thank you so much! I've never written anything platonic with Tony before. I also made it young!Tony. Hope you enjoy :)

Summary: Tony comforts you during a bad day

Warnings: Mild angst and some fluff. All mistakes are my own.

W/C: 696

Tony Stark Masterlist

Tony leaned against the locker as he waited for you to leave class. He could see you through the small window on the door, head resting in your palm, knee bouncing. You were clearly upset and had been all day.

When you arrived to class late, that's when he first noticed something was wrong. Dark under eyes, backpack unzipped with your textbooks almost slipping out. You sagged into your chair and leaned your head against the surface of the desk in front of you as you gazed vacantly out the window.

The hallways filled with students as the bell rang, chatter filling your already overstimulated brain. All you wanted was to do was go home and lock yourself in your room. 

“How was class, Tulip?” Tony asked when you stepped out of class. 

“It was okay.” You shrug, handing him your book bag when he extends his hand. 

The walk to his car was silent. Normally you talk about your day, letting him know how your classes were, and whatever drama was going around the school. He decided not to push you to talk, instead letting the silence linger as he reached for the door for you to get in, gently closing it when you started buckling your seatbelt. 

You leaned your head against the window, admiring the trees as Tony drove you home, but you furrowed your brows when he passed your turn. 

“What are you doing?” You asked. 

“I want to take you somewhere.” He replied nonchalantly. 

“Tony, I just want to go home. Please.” You sigh, not understanding why he couldn’t just take you home. All you wanted to do was hide under your covers till the next morning. 

You let out an annoyed breath, crossing your arms and moving your legs closer to the door. Tony frowned when he saw how you closed yourself off from him, but continued driving. He knew this would make you feel better. 

A few minutes later, Tony turns onto a dirt road and you instantly notice how the scattered trees start becoming more dense. He pulls up to the edge of the cliff and puts the car in park. Opening the door, you feel the cool breeze and pull up your hood. 

Your eyes begin to water as you sit on the edge, feet dangling in the air as you admire the waterfall from a far. 

Tony and you stumbled upon this waterfall by mistake and instantly fell in love with how beautiful it was. It became your spot. You’d spent countless nights sitting here, talking about anything and everything, and the fact that Tony brought you here meant so much to you. 

“Do you want to talk about it? Or do you just want to sit here?” He asks, sitting beside you and bringing you into his side so you can lay your head on his shoulder.

“It’s just been a bad day. I woke up with this heavy feeling and I thought it would disappear as the day went on, but it just got worse. Nothing went how it was supposed to. I was late for class, failed my exam, got paired up with the worst partner for our biology project.” You ranted as Tony rubbed your shoulder in a comforting manner. The more you talked, the more you cried. You didn’t realize how overwhelmed you were until now. 

“Hey, it’s just one bad day, Tulip. Tomorrow is going to be so much better, yeah?” He asks, looking down at you with a smile. 

You let his words sink in, nodding as you press yourself against him. 

“Yeah, just one bad day.” You repeat, taking a deep breath. 

“And if tomorrow is just as bad, we can come here again and we can talk, or we can sit here in silence. Whatever you want. You don’t need to bottle that feeling up. Lean on me. You know I’ll always help you.” He said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

A warm feeling washed over you as he spoke. You weren’t sure what you did to have Tony in your life, but you were forever grateful for the friendship you two developed. 

Taglist: @raajali3 @rookiemartin @strangeions @esposadomd @samyourneighbor @newavenger  @ccbsrmsf1 @aetherneto @hiddlechive

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[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - chapter 34

The ceremony ends and we all make our toasts to celebrate their married life together, and then end the lively event with a delicious chocolate cake that Rolan made from scratch. Who knew he had such incredible baking skills? Everyone ended up leaving rather late, and I won’t lie, it was rather fun. The socialization, the laughter, the memories we all shared from our adventures… Ah. Rolan is the last to leave, downing a final glass of wine before heading out.

“Well, I enjoyed being in your company, you two. The wedding was exquisite. I better head out, though. I worry about the kind of trouble Cal and Lia could get up to while I’m away from my precious tower,” Rolan comments, downing the last sip of his wine.

“I’m just glad you’re okay after the catastrophic circumstances with the Bhaalists,” Gale mentions, bouncing our sleepy baby in his arms. Rolan and his siblings were definitely some of the ones we were horrified of losing in that entire situation, though I had a feeling the Bhaalists found them as a threat somehow.

“It was horrifying for sure. Cal and Lia don’t exactly know how to protect themselves, but we managed like we normally do.” He sighs and opens the front door to leave. “I’m staying at the Inn down the street. Let’s all catch up tomorrow morning before I head back to Baldur’s Gate.” Gale and I exchange glances with one another and smile in agreement, thrilled to see yet another good friend that’s been through so much with us.

“Sounds great, friend. See you tomorrow,” I mention as he closes the door behind him. Hopefully he didn’t drink too much and he’ll make it to the Inn with zero issues whatsoever. Jenevelle is now passed out in Gale’s arms and I definitely can’t blame him; she’s never been part of a large outing before. Gale quietly steps toward me, a smile on his face as he leans in to kiss my forehead.

“Now I’ve got you all to myself…well, once the baby is in bed.” I smile and stare up at him for a moment, enjoying every second of his warm company. “I want to embrace your body, discovering every inch of it with my fingertips under the comforters.” We take Jenevelle to her room and place her in the crib, and she doesn’t move a muscle. We admire our little miracle for a moment, and it’s just now I’ve come to a realization that every obstacle we’ve gone through was worth it. All for her.

Gale and I are now lying in bed, absorbing the touch of one another with our bare flesh. His hand is traveling down my naked waist as I have my hand on his chest while our bodies are cuddled under the heavy blankets. Everything is finally okay. It’s been two years since the horrors of the Bhaal rampage and the destruction of the source of their mass production, thanks to my wonderful husband and friends. At least, I hope it was fully destroyed. I feel so bad for that poor dragonborn. Stop thinking about it, Emmy. It’s over now. I eyeball my handsome husband as he admires my face and gently pushes my hair back behind my ears, relaxing me.

“I love you Gale,” I murmur, my eyes closing from the calming feeling that nearly puts me into a heavy slumber. I can feel his fingertips barely brushing against my flesh. Our eyes are still glued on one another as we drink in each other’s presence like a bloodthirsty vampire with fresh skin. His aroma is similar to lavender and the sweet scent of skullcap leaves.

“I love you too, baby. Is something on your mind, my love?” I place my hand on his cheek, feeling the gentleness of his beard underneath the palm of my hand.

“No, not at all,” I assure him. “I’m just glad everything is alright. Time with good friends, a happy baby, watching Shadowheart and Astarion’s lives flourish after everything they’ve been through. It’s been a nice change.”

“And I wouldn’t change any of it. The only predicament I’d change would be the fact our baby can’t age. I was definitely looking forward to teaching her magic.” He sighs, but his smile doesn’t fade. “No, no. Positive thoughts. With that being said, I am more than thankful for our daughter and I can’t imagine life without her.”

I turn off the lantern on my nightstand next to my side of the bed and curl up next to Gale once more so I may attempt to fall asleep. For whatever reason, I feel a peculiar presence nearby, but I can’t seem to locate anything within the bedroom. Whatever it is, it’s beyond unsettling. Oh please just let it be my fucking imagination.

“Baby? Is everything alright?” Gale asks. He must have felt me move around to study the room.

“Yes, yes. I’m alright honey, I just can’t seem to fall asleep. Being immortal, y’know, makes it hard.” The presence is haunting me by making my mind tense up as I try to get comfortable, eating away at my nerves like a starved rat. An echo of familiar laughter plays within my mind as I notice shadows dancing around the room, which eventually fade into black dust. What the actual hell is happening?

My eyes eventually closed but it took about a solid hour. Whatever was in the room with us was definitely there and not my imagination, and it was a visitor I’m sure I’ve had before; one that was once alive.

I wake up feeling rather groggy, which is unusual as an immortal. I haven’t felt this way since Jenevelle was born. I’m not exactly tired since I’m always filled with endless energy, but it’s as if someone, or something, crawled into my skull and ate the brain matter within it. I drag my feet to Jenevelle’s room and notice Gale happily playing with her as he’s getting her changed and dressed for the day. He notices me as I enter the room, a smile flashing on his handsome face; he doesn’t seem a bit phased at all from the terror last night. Maybe he slept through it all, or maybe it’s just me.

“Oh, good morning love. How did you sleep?” His voice is so full of life, as if it could light up an entire room.

“Pretty well, but erm… I woke up feeling mindless, like I can’t think straight. Do you feel the same or is that just me?” He hesitates for a moment, observing my blank face.

“Hmm, no, I can’t say that I feel the same. I think perhaps you drank too much at the wedding yesterday.” He finishes putting a diaper on Jenevelle, then slides her into a soft, thin wool dress, laced with baby pink thread. I don’t want to mention the unusual feeling that crept up on me last night, because it’s very possible I was just paranoid; maybe even anxious for some unknown reason. Hm. I pick up Jenevelle from the changing mat and hold her close for a moment, kissing her soft silky brown hair that smells of fresh lilacs.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

🎁🎁🎁 Lovely Weather

A SNEAKRET SANTA GIFT DRABBLE

A/N: Merry December and Happy Holidays, everyone!  Don’t mind me, I’m just here to leave another gift under the tree. These are my way of giving back to some of the lovely content creators here whose work brings me joy. I tried to personalize them a little bit for each person they’re dedicated to, but they’re just as much my gift to anyone who has ever shared their work or who has ever read mine. Thank you for being lovely <3

Gift Tag: @writeforfandoms - Who had this to say what I presented her with a choice of characters: “ijhfe;wnofhnwe you were not kidding when you said tough question.” But ultimately Jack won out, and I went with snowflakes, mittens & sleigh ride for the prompts. Jen, I hope this makes up for that devastatingly tough question. I hope it makes you smile and fills you with the kind of fluffy warmth that I feel whenever I read one of your stories. Thank you for being so lovely, and I hope you have the happiest, warmest holiday season! 

 WC: 2,880

Warnings: none. it’s 110% fluff.

“And last but not least, let’s get a look at our holiday weekend weather!”

The sound of a scissor blade being dragged along a length of bright red ribbon filled the few seconds of silence between the newscaster sending things over to the meteorologist, but Jack still heard you suck in an anticipatory breath. Raising his eyes from the tablet in his hand - he’d been reviewing some data that Ginger sent him regarding a prototypical weapon that would be available for testing in the new year - he looked over at you and had to hide the slight grin that pulled at the corner of his mouth. You were staring at the screen, scissors still in hand as you let the coiled ribbon bounce back toward the gift it was secured around, and he could almost hear the hopes and wishes that were swirling in your thoughts. 

Don’t you worry, gorgeous, there’ll be plenty of snow where we’re goin’. 

You didn’t know that yet though, so he kept quiet and watched as you waited to hear what the forecast would be. 

“Thanks Jodi,” the meteorologist said, standing in front of a map of Kentucky. “And it’s looking like a pretty mild one again, folks, which is great news for anyone who is planning to travel to see family or loved ones this year.” The radar screen circled around again, a few tiny splotches of light green popping up to indicate some patchy rain moving through the Louisville area on Christmas Eve the only precipitation showing anywhere on the map. The camera panned back out to show the weather person again, and with an apologetic wince they continued their segment. “But for anyone out there dreaming of a white Christmas, it looks like you’ll be waiting at least one more year.” 

You let out an audible sigh, Jack noticing the sag of your shoulders as the meteorologist handed the broadcast back over to the main newscasters, and even though he knew it would be better to keep his plan a surprise, he hated seeing you let down even if it was only temporary. It’ll be worth it though, he reminded himself. 

Still, he wasn’t about to let you stew in disappointment. “Hey darlin’.” He leaned forward to set the device he’d been scrolling through down on the wagon-wheel coffee table, head tilted to one side as you turned to look at him. “I’m sorry you didn’t hear what you wanted to.” Even though it's better that there won’t be any snow here, because then I won’t have any trouble with-  

Your expression softened, the lights from the tree and the ones hung around the window frame reflecting in your eyes and making your cheeks glow, and the sight scrambled the rest of his thoughts. “It’s alright, Jack.” Moving the gift you’d just finished wrapping into place under the tree, you shifted to your knees and faced him fully. A small huff of a laugh left your lips as you shrugged. “I knew it was a long shot, I was just…” 

Reaching for your hand, he pulled you from the carpet and up onto the couch. “You were holdin’ out for some holiday magic, hmm?” He let you get settled against him and then wound his arm around you, tugging you close enough to press a kiss to the side of your head. 

You hummed in response, one hand coming up to rest in the center of his chest. “I guess I was.” With another sigh, this one far less disappointed, you laid your cheek on his shoulder. “But I’ve got all the magic I need right here.” 

That made him laugh even as it warmed his whole being. “Well shucks, gorgeous, I know I’m good with rope tricks, but I ain’t sure that qualifies as magic.” 

Picking your head up, you rolled your eyes and gave him a playful smack. “You know what I meant, Daniels.” I do. The hand over his heart moved up so that your fingertips could trace the edge of one of the open buttons on the henley he wore. “I’m glad we were both able to get the time off. Spending the holidays with you is all I actually care about.” Your lips met the exposed skin just over the top of his collar, Jack tightening his grasp on you. “Snow just would have been the cherry on top.” 

Having grown up in sunny, southern California, Jack knew that the opportunity for you to have had a white Christmas was less than zero. Instead of snowball fights and hot chocolate, you’d spent your winter holidays as a kid on the beach with your siblings and your friends, building sandcastles instead of snow forts. Though you secretly always longed for the big, puffy flakes and frosty blanket, snowmen and sleigh rides and everything else that you’d seen in holiday movies, it wasn’t until you took the internship at the distillery in 2011 - and moved to Kentucky - that you actually thought it might be possible. 

“Just my luck that the last white Christmas in Louisville happened the year before I moved here, huh?” You’d since moved up within the organization, switching over from being a distillery employee to working in research and development for Statesman, opting to stay in Kentucky for the long and snowless haul. 

Jack let out a snort. “Wasn’t much more than an inch of powder,” he recalled, rubbing his palm up and down your bicep, “and it was gone by supper time.” 

You held up the finger you’d been touching him with, lifting your head as well so you could look him in the eye. “Still counts.”

“I guess it does.” Gonna be a whole lot more than that when we get up north. Wanting to keep his surprise under wraps until the last moment, Jack changed the subject. “Speakin’a weather, you hear from your parents? Their flight get in alright over in London?” 

Your brother had moved overseas a few years back after a long study abroad stint, finding a job and then a husband, settling down in the outskirts of the sprawling city. Since then, your parents had alternated between spending the holidays in the US with you and Jack, and traveling to spend time with Paul and Cal. They also occasionally made the trek across the Atlantic, but since you were only ever guaranteed a handful of days off surrounding the winter holidays, you rarely got the chance to do the same. This year you only had off from the 24th to the 26th of December, Jack likely having to go in the day after Christmas, or at the very least attend a virtual meeting via his glasses, so a trip to England was simply not in the cards. 

A trip up to the Adirondacks, though? That was definitely in the cards

“They did.” You answered his question and he nodded. “My mom called to let me know they landed while I was in my office this afternoon.” 

“Good.” A yawn broke free then, and Jack didn’t even try to stifle it. “You all finished wrapping gifts for the night?” 

“Yup,” you responded. “Just need to clean up and-” Then it was you who couldn’t keep a yawn from escaping.

“And then I think we should get some shut eye.” Need to get a good night’s rest so I’m sharp for the mornin’. “What d’you say?” 

Standing so that you could start to gather up and put away the wrapping paper, ribbons, labels, tape, scissors and other tools and decorations that Jack didn’t know what to call, you took his hands in yours and pulled him to his feet as well. “Sounds good to me, Jack.” You bumped your nose against his and then dropped a kiss to the corner of his mouth, where the bristles of his mustache met his lip. “See you in the bedroom.” 

– – – 

Both of you had fallen asleep quickly, the last few days at HQ having been packed ones in order to get things done in time for the holiday, and though Jack would have liked to let you sleep in the following morning, he couldn’t. Because the sooner we get goin’, the better. 

Waking you with a kiss, he waited for you to blink your eyes open, and when you did, the sleepy smile on your face felt like sunshine. “G’morning, gorgeous,” he greeted you through a grin of his own. 

“Hey, you,” you responded through a sigh, reaching up to wipe at your eyes. “What time is it, Jack? Why are you…” You groaned and shifted closer to him, seeking out the warmth of his body beneath the sheets. “We’re off, Agent Whiskey,” you mumbled. “We should be sleeping.” 

“Well, I’m afraid we’re not, darlin’.” It wasn’t the truth, and he didn’t like tricking you, but there was no other way to get you to HQ without raising too many questions, and he had to get you there, because that’s where the Silver Pony waited, all fueled up and packed with bags that Jack had put together for both of you the day before. 

That got your attention fast, and your eyes flew open as you propped yourself up on one elbow. “What?! What happened? Everything okay? I-” 

“Woah, woah there, easy, Iain’t sure yet what’s goin’ on. Just woke up to a message from Ginger sayin’ we needed to report soon as we could.” Jutting his chin in the direction of your nightstand where your work tablet sat next to your phone, he went on. “You probably got the same message. You can check it.” 

Sighing, you rolled to your other side and picked up the device. Sure enough there was a message from Ginger - one that Jack knew would be there because he had asked the woman to send it to you. Thanks, Ginger Ale, you’re a lifesaver. You pressed the heel of your palm into your eye and let out another sigh. “You’re right, I did get one, too.” Setting the device down, you sat all the way up, suddenly alert. “Says to report to the hanger, so I guess that means field work? Why would I need to go to-” 

“Not sure.” Jack shrugged and leaned in to kiss your cheek. “But I know if we don’t shake a leg she’s just gonna keep on sendin’ ‘em, and…” He trailed off and you nodded. 

“No, you’re right.” You tipped your head back to stretch your neck, taking a deep breath through your nose and then releasing it slowly. “Let’s get going, Jack.” 

“I’ll go start some coffee,” he said. “Can you be ready in ten?” 

Throwing the cover back, you swung your legs over the side of the bed. Even though Jack knew that you weren’t thrilled about the prospect of being called into work on the morning of Christmas Eve, you winked at him. “Be ready in seven.”

Perfect.

– – – 

Jack had intended to let the surprise go for as long as he could, but the second that you arrived at the hangar and it was empty, you knew that something was up. Your steps echoes in the large space, and you raised a brow in confusion. “Jack? What’s going on? Where’s Ginger? Where’s Champ or… anyone?” 

“Now, don’t be mad,” he said with a smirk as the two of you stepped up next to the sleek jet. “But there ain’t no mission, and we’re not here on Statesman business.” 

You scrunched your face, still clearly confused. “What? Then… why are we here instead of still at home in bed, Daniels?” 

Lifting one hand, Jack patted the metallic paneling of the plane. “Because we have got somewhere to be this weekend, and I don’t think you’ll mind so much once we get there.” 

That was all he gave you, along with a wink, and then he pressed the button that would open the passenger hatch, helping you up into it. He felt his heart swell at the trust that you placed in him, and then the two of you were in the air and on your way. 

Once Jack got the Pony off the runway and into the air, it didn’t take long for you to notice what direction he was flying in. “Are we… are we going to New York?” Cat’s outta the bag now. 

He knew that you meant the city when you asked, since that was where Statesman had another office in the Northeast, and since it wasn’t a lie he didn’t correct you. “Yes ma’am,” he answered. “Good eye.” 

You hadn’t said much after that, the headsets making communication possible but not convenient as you sat directly behind him, and you’d opted to simply look out the window at the world below you. But when he neared the metropolis and didn’t start to perform descent maneuvers, you spoke up again. “Jack? I think you overshot the city, I-” 

“I said, we were goin’ to New York, darlin’. I never said anything about the city.” 

“Upstate?” You asked, and Jack could hear the excitement in your voice.  “Jack? Are we going up-” 

“Hold tight,” he told you. “You’ll see soon enough.” 

And he was right, the flight coming to an end less than a half hour later at a small private airfield where the runways and tarmac were all clear - but the surrounding ground, trees, buildings and cars were covered by several inches of glittering snow. As he helped you down and out of the jet, your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. 

“Jack…” Your voice was quiet and he knew that it was because you were taking it all in. “Jack, you…” 

Using your still joined hands, he tugged you into his chest and wrapped you in his arms. “How's this for a white Christmas, hmm? Better’n a little dusting down in Louisville?” 

You laughed, though there were tears of joy forming in the corners of your eyes. Jack swept them away so they wouldn’t freeze on your lashes. “Yeah, I’d say so, cowboy.” 

He grinned. Nice segway. “I didn’t fly you up here just to stand on the runway though, sugarplum. Got somethin’ else up my sleeve. But first I think we should bundle up, because it’s only gonna get snowier from here.” 

A glee-filled expression lit your face then as you let out a breathless sigh. “Lead the way, then.” 

– – – 

You got to the ranch about twenty minutes later, layering up in the backseat of the car that had been waiting for you at the airfield. There had been snow jackets and thick, water-proof pants, scarves, hats and mittens in the bags that Jack had stowed, and as you donned them all piece by piece, he kicked himself for not going with gloves instead so that he could lace his wool covered fingers with yours. These are warmer though, and that’s what’s best. You zipped up your coat and he couldn’t help the sly smirk that came with thoughts of unzipping it later when you were in your room, letting his fingers travel all over your body instead of just your hands, doing his best to warm you up after a day spent in the cold. Gotta get there first, though. 

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that, Jack?” You asked, breath puffing out in front of your mouth and snowflakes beginning to land on the crocheted hat you pulled on when you’d gotten out of the car. 

Reaching for your hand, he wrapped his around it. “Just thinkin’ about how much I love you is all.” 

That made you smile, rising on your toes to kiss him and licking away a snowflake that had landed on his lips first. “Love you, too,” you whispered without pulling away. “Thank you for this.” 

Hands going to your waist, he turned you around toward the barn that you’d been standing in front of just as it opened. “Don’t thank me yet. Got one more surprise for you.” 

As the door slid open on its track, a horse pulling an open sleigh made for two appeared, and you gasped with delight. “Are you serious right now?” 

The animal bobbed its head as it walked, puffs of white air coming from its nostrils as it let out a friendly huff. “I am, darlin’.” He leaned forward and around to kiss your cheek from behind. “You wanted a White Christmas like the ones in the movies? Well, you got one.”

Shaking your head in awe, you looked back at him. “How did you… when…Jack…” 

“Found this place when I was workin’ in the city last year,” he explained. “Needed somewhere I could go so I could ride and blow off some steam and… this ranch was perfect.” You muttered a it sure is, and he kissed you again. “Now, this beauty is gonna take us for a ride, and then we’re gonna warm up by the fire and watch the snow come down. How’s that sound?” 

You removed one of your mittens then, shoving your bare hand into one of his, twining your fingers inside the mitten and squeezing. “Sounds like the best Christmas ever, Jack.” 

Seeing the happiness on your face, hearing it in your voice and feeling it in the way you gripped his hand, he had to agree. 

.

.

.

This is the Ranch that I looked up for inspiration. It was the first one that I found in the area that did holiday sleigh rides. and when you see the names of some of the horses that they own, you’ll know why it was just too perfect to pass up. 

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from my taglist, please feel free to let me know by sending a message or by filling out the form on my masterlist :)  

tags:  @something-tofightfor @paracosmenthusiast @cannedbees @dihra-vesa @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato

[trulyumai]

oh, baby.

—pairing: eddie munson / reader

—synopsis: sick of the rules your boyfriend eddie put in place, you try to seek him out during school hours. only he isn’t quite accepting as you had hoped.

—warnings: eddie being an asshole briefly. he’s so soft for reader tho.

this was a request, thank you anonymous.

enjoy!

Part two!

Eddie and you had a rule. Something he was super, super serious about.

No touching, kissing, or talking during school hours. It wasn’t his choice. Well, it was. But it was for your own good! Or that’s what he told you.

Everyday, you would cross by each other, not a glance to be spared. Hell, you even shared last period with him but the man paid you no mind. With his feet plastered above the desk, Eddie would glance out the window, occasionally throwing comments here and there trying to be funny to his group members.

You hated it.

But the man didn’t see a problem with it. He would be all over you in the after hours, smooching and hugging your form like he hadn’t blatantly ignored you for half the day. You knew he wanted to be helpful. Save your, “reputation,” or whatever the hell was important. But it wasn’t easy. You missed him and his goofy jokes, how he hung his arms around your frame and whispered little compliments here and there.

So that’s why today, you were gonna sit at the infamous lunch table with him.

Already with your lunchbox in hand, you began your way over, slightly nervous with sweaty palms you paid the confused glances (from your friends) no mind.

Today, you would be with your Eddie.

Stopping at the front of the table, Eddie looked up from his book, almost dropping it when he saw who had entered the vicinity.

‘What on earth was his little doe eyed girl doing here, of all places? ’

Mike and Dustin looked up just in time to see you smile shyly at the curly haired man. Open mouthed, Dustin raised a brow to his older friends’ direction.

“Um— you lost, princess?” Eddie shuffled uncomfortably. His fingers played with the loose hems around his shirt and his knee incessantly bounced up, down, up down.

Squinting, you didn’t miss a beat.

“No… I was actually hoping to sit with you guys!”

Placing your lunch upon the table, you began to move towards an open seat before Eddie bolted up. Startling not only you, but the other table mates.

“That’s a good one. Buuuut, I think your type of friends are aaactually over there,” with an open hand, Eddie gestured to the cheerleaders, who laughed on about their own jokes and stories. “Actually it’s here.” You persisted, dusting off the green skirt that lay above your knees. Finally sitting down you glanced at the other members. “So… what were you guys talking about?”

Mike was about to answer, bring up how DnD has been rising in popularity but Eddie beat him to it.

With a slam of his fist, the table sounded out. A slam echoed, harsh and loud. Reverberating off the cement walls of the cafeteria, gaining the attention of nearby students.

“Girly, the answers a no. I know that might be hard to grasp for someone like you.” He laughed, it was dry— mean. “But that’s just how it is. Now if you would be so kind—

“Why are you being like this?” Over it entirely, your arms crossed over your chest. Usually such an action would be so cute in Eddies eyes.

But he was desperate— scared, for you.

Another dry chuckle left the man’s lips as he shook his head. He tried to get you to see, to show the desperation in his eyes, but you were making it so hard.

“I’m not being like anything. We’re freaks. You’re a goody two shoes, end of discussion.”

“So you don’t wanna be with me?” You challenged, already grabbing at your skirt with tight fists.

Please. Eddie thought. Just leave sweetheart.

He would explain himself after, you guys could cuddle—watch a movie!

But instead of giving you honey laced words, the man only shook your sorrowful gaze off. And sealed the conversation with a solid lock to the jaw.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead with you, sweetheart.” Automatically the air shifted. Miked sucked in a breath and Dustin couldn’t be more under the bench.

Eddie knew he went too far, wanted to reach out right then and there and kiss you. Say he’s sorry.

But how could you know?

Tears sprung from your eyes, furiously grabbing your lunch you shoved everything back in. With a last glance at Eddie, your lips jutted out. A habit you made when something irked you, signaling for Eddie to console you or give you those little candies you love so much.

“You’re an asshole.” Bolting up from the group, you didnt look back. Instead, went directly for your friends who had been keeping tabs on you the whole time.

They grouped around you when you reached them, rubbing light hands on your back, whispering how awful those idiots were.

And Eddie could do nothing but watch. Watch as someone else comforted his girl from the words that left his own mouth in the first place.

“That was harsh dude.” Mike spoke, idly poking his fork at the veggies that had went cold on his styrofoam plate.

“Whatever.” God did Eddie feel miserable. Your little tear stricken face left him so angry with himself.

Opening his book once more he tried to think of ways to make you happy again, and a proper way to apologize without coming off as an asshole.

He would do it tonight, be at your window with little pebbles and an arm full of candy. With an apology ready to go, spilling from his lips.

Because the man is sorry. He’s never felt like such an asshole.

The bell rang, signaling for students to return to their class. You left Eddies sight before he could blink and the man sunk in his chair.

Surely his plan would work… right?

[littlerit]

I apologise for the asks in my inbox I’ve still not answered. This just happened to be in my activity box when I’d just finished writing so I have the luxury (or lack of excuses…) of being sat at a desk with my keyboard to hand….

Ta for the tag Clem <3

I have 33 works on AO3

Total AO3 wordcount is around 250k I think….. *checks* 278,324 words!

My top 5 fics by kudos…. Yo, I heard him everyday (Encanto oneshot), my very first fic Quake (Umbrella Academy, complete multichapter), my long fic baby The Time Traveller’s Life (Umbrella Academy, 170k WIP), my other will-hopefully-grow-up-into-a-longish-fic Obedience Suite (in A minor) (Umbrella Academy, 30+k) and finally Five’s first displacement (Umbrella Academy oneshot - prologue to TTL)

I do respond to comments! I love getting comments, and I love responding to them. You’ve shared your reaction with me, I want to share my reaction to your reaction! (or at the very least say thank you and let you know I read your comment!) I’ve fallen into the habit now of generally responding to comments on a previous chapter when I upload the next one.

What fic has the angstiest ending…. hmmm…. Farewell and The Hunt both ends in character death, and by default Five in the Apocalypse Sob Stories are all angsty AF

Ooh the happiest ending. Of Ghoulies and Spoons is just fluff, and The Tails of the Umbrella Aquarium has an angsty start and a happy ending

Do I write crossovers? I certainly write AUs / Fusions, those are my jam. For the Umbrella Academy I’ve done Daemon AU, Howls Moving Castle (would this class as a retelling perhaps, putting TUA characters into the HMC world and adapting it to fit?), and Ella Enchanted AU, and of course a Time Traveller’s WIfe AU. Have I writtena strict crossover where characters from two universes meet and interact? No.

I got a book mark on TTL with a trollish note (‘Zzzzzzzzz’) - they had gone through a bunch of fics and given them rude comments. But thats the worst of it.

I do not write smut.

Not that I know of. I hope not.

Somebody once asked if they could translate my fic, but then never responded or let me know if they actually did or not, so I don’t think so.

I have co-written a fic, Klaus’ moving castle with the wonderful @destinyandcoins

My fave ship…. I do read a lot of Zukka. Also ineffable husbands.

A WIP I want to finish but never will….well never say never. I hope to finish all my WIPS I’ve got up as WIPs. But I did post the start of a Everyday AU and labelled it clearly as free for adoption / inspiration as I just don’t see me having the time to ever really get going with that one. But who knows, it could happen.

My writing strengths… Complex timelines and time-travelling shenanigans. My devious mind and organisation skills combine nicely for that. I also can turn my hand to a mean drabble when the inspiration strikes.

Writing weaknesses…I can go pages and pages without including dialogue. I need to remember people do really be saying things to themselves/each other.

Thoughts on dialogue in other languages on AO3… it very much depends on the context for me. The odd word or phrase used sparingly for effect can really aid in and elevate characterisation or world setting for me. But it can be a fine line between an effect and a gimmick. When long dialogue is written out and then translated for me as the reader I personally wish it was just left in english and clarified in the speech tag that it was said in Spanish/Elvish/Whatever-ish.

The Umbrella Academy was my first fandom, and I’m still there now!

I have written a short oneshot for Avatar Last Airbender, but there is a longfic idea bouncing around my brain (another AU….lol) that would be nice to get out one day. I’d also kind of like to write for Temeraire, but I’m really not sure I could nail that old english voice. I am far too modern I think!

The Time Traveller’s Life is my baby. I’ve put so much work into that one. But I have other favourites too for other reasons. But forced to pick, it’s TTL.

@rockinlibrarian @destinyandcoins @booksasfurniture *mild panic as sleepy bedtime brain tries to remember who writes* @in-a-slanted-outhouse @candiliam328 @aye-of-newt …… if you fancy it, crack on, and if you don’t please ignore :)

Author Interview

(This was originally a tag meme that Mod Ragna was tagged in ages ago, so feel free to tag others if you answer it!)

How many works do you have on AO3?

What's your total AO3 word count?

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

What fic has the angstiest ending?

What fic has the happiest ending?

Do you write crossovers?

Have you received hate on AO3?

Do you write smut?

Have you had a fic get stolen?

Have you had a fic get translated?

Have you co-written a fic?

What's your fave ship?

What's a WIP you want to finish but never will?

What are your writing strengths?

What are your writing weaknesses?

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages on AO3?

What's the first fandom you wrote for?

What fandom/ship have you not written but want to?

What's your fave fic you've written?

[noretreatnancy]

Regarding the s3 fight I 100% agree with you, both parties were at fault for it but I'll never forgive the writers how they solved the issue. Jonathan apologized to Nancy, saying how wrong he was, in my opinion he never really doubted her story that there was something wrong with the rats, he admitted himself that was something weird going on. He was frustrated with losing the job so he said things out of anger.

Nancy on the other hand never apologized for her comments regarding Jonathan's poor family situation. She just said "I hope you never doubt me again". I don't think she truly understands his situation, she definitely has a hard time emphasizing with others when it doesn't concerns her personally. I think she is an interesting character but man this girl can't admit her faults and the show never truly adresses it as well.

Another example is the whole Steve situation in s2, both were at fault but only Steve took the blame. Nancy emotionally cheated on him for a year and idk how you interpret the fight after the party but in my opinion they were not clearly broken up when she slept with Jonathan. Like I said Steve was not perfect but it's so stupid how only he was made responsible (in the show) for their breakup when Nancy wasn't a good girlfriend as well. When they talked at the Byers house Nancy should have had the guts to tell him she is sorry too, or at least it's not okay after Steve said that to her. And then s3 happened and yet again she can't say she's sorry, idk if she actually thinks she's in the right in both situations or if she just can't say it.

In s4 a similar situation occurs with Robin at the library, first of all I hated how Robin's clear autistic traits were used as comedy, oh look she is annoying Nancy haha. However after a while Nancy should have said sorry for being so mean in the beginning which ofc never happened. I get it her friend died and this girl she doesn't know won't shut up, but still doesn't give her the right to treat Robin the way she did. She could have explained herself instead of being mean. Nancy only started to tolerate Robin after she was useful to the quest and Robin reassured her nothing is going on with Steve.

I actually followed your blog because I loved your insights on Nancy because I have to admit I struggle with her character. I love to read your takes and I can appreciate her more but for the reasons I listed here she still remains one of my lesser favorites of the show. Partially it has something to do with how she is written, like how her flaws never get truly adressed or acknowledged as such in the show, she is treated as if everything she does is perfect by other characters you know. And how she treats said characters and seemingly can't emphasize with others when it doesn't concern her.

I truly hope I didn't offend you, I do really love your takes on her and like I said you gave me new insights.

Okay first I want to say I really appreciate this ask! It’s very kind of you to follow my blog, and I think your opinions stated here are totally valid! I can 100% understand not vibing with a character, and this is a really respectful way of handling a difference in opinion! I don’t want it to come across that I think everyone who dislikes Nancy is misogynistic, I hope that’s not how my earlier post came across! I’m going to explain a little the way I interpret these situations based on the way I see Nancy, but this is just my thought process/feelings and I’m not trying to like argue you down or change your mind!

I’d like to talk about her and Robin first. You mention Robin’s having autistic traits and those traits being used as comedy. I can’t speak to that part of her characterization because I’m not autistic myself, but I would definitely think that choosing to make those traits a joke is an ignorant at best, mean spirited at worst writing choice. The way I read the situation on watching was that Nancy was very frightened and upset by the events of the proceeding day, especially the fact that… she may have gotten (in her mind) another one of her friends killed. She dragged Fred to the crime scene because she wanted to get to the truth of what happened, and then he died. I might be misremembering, but I don’t think at that time they’d figured out the way Vecna selected his victims, so for all she knew he was dead because of her. I also think she was under a lot of pressure to solve the case, since all of the usual “adults” she would turn to for help (Hopper, Joyce, Murray, and Jonathan) were all gone. She wasn’t around for Steve and Robin’s Russia investigation in s3, so she doesn���t know what they’re actually capable of. For her, she’s being paired off with a girl she doesn’t know, who doesn’t have the same experience level with Upside down related things as she does, who is then criticizing her on her lead (that she’s already feeling insecure about). I don’t blame Robin for doing so, but it definitely wouldn’t endear her to Nancy. Nancy isn’t really chatty (she hasn’t had the chance to be) and she’s obviously taking the situation very seriously. She’s always trying to be mature and adult, and she’s used to working with Jonathan, who is also very reserved and serous. so I’m sure Robin’s method of coping with the stressful situation probably came off as her not taking things seriously. Nancy is worried this won’t pan out and they’ll be left with no leads, and Robin is basically telling her, “yeah this seems like bullshit.” which it did! don’t get me wrong! it was a very thin lead. but I know I don’t react positively to giving my best effort and having someone make me feel inadequate. That whole scene reads to me of two girls who literally don’t know each other, have never spent and significant time together, with very different personalities and ways of approaching things, being forced together by circumstances and having to learn to deal with it. Robin reads it as Nancy being jealous over Steve, but it came across as genuine frustration and stress response to me. They’re an “unlikely pairing/duo” situation, they’re supposed to butt heads and have friction at first, and then grow to love and appreciate each other as they spend time together. This is a pretty common cliche (the “quirky/unorthodox” one and the “serious/by the book” one), so I never took it as Nancy hating/being mean to Robin. And I’ll say… being frustrated with someone isn’t the same as being cruel to them, and I think Nancy was actually trying very hard to remain polite under the circumstances. Robin is just very aware that her personality isn’t always taken well, and so she’s trying to get ahead of it by addressing even small signs of irritation on Nancy’s part. I also think it’s relevant that… they’re 17/18. Sometimes teenagers are a little rude or snarky, they roll their eyes or get a little huffy… I wouldn’t point to those things as unforgivable meanness, especially under the circumstances.

Speaking to the Steve situation is harder, because I don’t think that she was actually in the wrong on that one. Nancy was deeply traumatized by the events of season one. She’s doing everything she can to go back to normal and cope with the loss of her best friend, but it clearly isn’t working. She’s breaking down completely. Steve is a teenage boy with kind of low emotional intelligence at that point, so I don’t think he was like purposefully ignoring her pain or anything. But the scene at the party is so painful to watch, she’s drunk, she’s 16, she having a full emotional break down over feeling like everyone wants to move on from and forget the thing that is clearly haunting her. And the only thing that Steve is worried about is the fact that she isn’t in love with him. Again, I understand that would be heartbreaking to hear… but if you really loved someone, imo, you couldn’t see them in that much pain and then just walk away (and leave them drunk and sobbing at a house party). I think people blame the break up on Steve because instead of trying to talk things out with her or help her work through the things she was dealing with, he got angry and walked away. I always read the fight in the alley as a break up scene, and I believe that’s what it was intended to be. Nancy can’t give him what he wants in that moment (her love), and so Steve walks away from her. Their priorities were in different places, and that doesn’t make either of them a bad person. At that point in time, Steve still cared about being “King of Hawkins” and not getting shown up by Billy in gym. Nancy was dealing with her guilt over Barb’s death while also trying to get justice against the people who ACTUALLY got her killed. She’s risking her life to bring down the lab. High school problems don’t matter to her, she is fundamentally a different person than she was at the beginning of season one. Steve isnt, not yet, and I think it’s understandable that the relationship she pursued at that point in her life no longer fits the person she has become. Now of course there were gentler, more emotionally intelligent ways for her to let him down gently… but again. She’s a teenager, even if she is mature for her age. I don’t think the fact that she had a messy break up with her first boyfriend makes her a bad person. Imo Steve ended the relationship out of hurt and anger, regretted it, and was taking her the flowers to apologize and get back together. That’s what he was apologizing for, the way things ended and the fact that he wasn’t able to be there for her the way she needed him to be (which again, isn’t his fault, he’s also just a kid and isn’t a bad person for not being able to handle adult problems).

The jonathan situation in s3 is, to me, a writing flaw. They gave them plenty of screen time in the early part of the season (aka the buildup to the fight), but they didn’t actually get a chance in the latter part of the season to sit down and actually talk things out. The “apology” is rushed, but to me most of the emotional moments in season 3 are. Now. In my opinion. Jonathan was much more cruel in their argument than nancy was. Which is understandable, because he was very upset and stressed out. But he is lashing out at her and, frankly, mocking her for thinking she could pursue her dreams. Her “Oliver twist” comment was very out of line, but in the same scene he basically calls her a spoiled brat (which whether you believe is valid or not, is still a hard thing to hear from your boyfriend and would maybe induce and insensitive comment from a teenager). Jonathan is at the paper, being allowed to do the job he’s been hired to do. Nancy is being mocked for wanting to do hers. Nancy spent all of season 2 breaking a top secret government conspiracy, and now she (rightfully) thinks she’s uncovered something strange, and is being told she isn’t capable enough to do it and should leave it to the big boys. My opinion has always been that Nancy uses “uncovering the case” as a way to cope with her feelings of helplessness and guilt. Something weird was going on in her down, but she was too preoccupied to take an interest, and then her friend died because of it. So now she always has to be on top of the story, first on the scene, follow every lead to the bitter end… because if she always knows everything thats happening, she can (maybe) keep anyone else from dying. That’s why the rat story was so important to her in s3. She KNEW something was wrong. To Jonathan it just seems like she’s chasing the high of breaking the big story… she’s putting her pride over their jobs. But to Nancy, what she’s doing is important, and him downplaying it feels just like everyone else who refused to listen to her (about Barb in season 1 especially, when he was the only one who WOULD listen to her). There is one point of yours that Id like to dispute (everything else is totally your right to that opinion). Nancy DOES apologize to Jonathan. She apologizes to him first. She reaches out first (by calling him from the hospital), and then in the elevator she tells him she didn’t mean the things she said, she spoke out of anger. And Jonathan admits that he was wrong to dismiss her fears/intuition that something was up. They were both in the wrong (for the ways they lashed out, not the ways they felt), and they both apologize and forgive each other.

So I guess TL/DR. I don’t think you always have to be sweet/nice to be a good person, or even a kind one. I think that teenagers sometimes respond to things in immature ways. And I think that Nancy’s trauma and guilt, and her overly developed sense of responsibility play into the way she handles herself and others.

[miekasa]

NICE.

+ pairings: eren yeager + (fem) reader

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

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

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

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

+ word count: 19k. i’m sorry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, baby. I love you.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Get off my line.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, no—of course not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was almost three thou—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It wasn’t mine, I was—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what’s it matter to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not avoiding him,” you frown.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sound like you speak from personal experience.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“His parents?” Jean cuts you off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you… told Eren yet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is… is that why you—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles. “I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He reinstates his hold on your wrist, motioning your body backwards until your back is against the frame of the bed. He hums in approval, positioning himself next to you again, equally as close, but far more comfortable for what he has planned next.

“I’m—I’m gonna try somethin’, okay?” he stutters, the first word mistakenly coming out in broken German, “Just, don’t freak out on me. It’ll be good, promise.”

You nod, unsure of what you’ve just signed off on, but you don’t have time to ask questions. Eren takes another hit, then passes the blunt to his non-dominant hand. He turns to face you, leans forward, and places his free hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer; the expanse of his palm leaving room for his thumb to venture over the bottom half of your cheek.

Eren pulls you in until your lips are millimeters apart, and he can see the pattern of your eyes in beautiful detail. He shifts his hand now so that the majority of it covers your face, the pad of his thumb running across your bottom lip. He applies the perfect amount of pressure to pry your willing mouth open, and then, finally, exhales.

This time, you can taste it. It’s woodsy, and bitter, but the sweet undertones dance on your tongue. This time, there’s more to think about than just the smoke in your lungs; like the burn of Eren’s hand on your neck; the pressure of his thumb against your bottom lip; the proximity of his lips to yours; the look in his eyes.

“Feel good?” he doesn’t bother to pull away before asking, and the words ghost over your lips with the remaining smoke. You nod; he smiles. “Wanna try again?”

You let out a breathy note of affirmation, and then he’s inhaling and exhaling into you, and you welcome him with pried lips and a heavy thumping in your chest. The confidence with which he maneuvers his body and the drugs is nerve-wracking, yet comforting at the same time; he has an expertise and power that intimidates, but compels you to follow.

Together, you finish the first blunt, and Eren lights the second without missing a beat. His hands are more demanding this around; they guide you into submission, and he’s pleased to find that you’re willing to listen.

After the third exhale, you stop focusing on his hands, and more on his lips. After the fourth, you think you might be high—not to the stars as you infamously were during Moblit’s party—but with a comfortable, dull buzz in your head. Everything feels a little fuzzy, out of touch, but you host a burning want for something more, something tangible.

You don’t know it, but Eren feels the same.

After the fifth exhale, Eren pulls away, the blunt a simple stub as he flicks it away onto the night stand, and you miss him being too close. You miss his hands, you miss his warmth, you crave his touch.

“Eren,” you call, unable to think of or see anything but him in the haze. He answers with a strained, “Yeah?” keening towards the sound of your voice, wide eyes flitting all over your face.

It’s too much, too close, too hot. That’s when you cup his jaw, pull him forward, and meld your lips together.

Kissing Eren is painfully familiar, and unnervingly satisfying. It’s certainly not your first kiss with him; and, yet he has a way of making you feel like it is while reminding you of your history. His lips are soft, and they taste like smoke and the chapstick you swear by because he refuses to buy or test out his own.

You pull away too soon, gauging his reaction with blown-out eyes, before dipping forward to have him against you again. Then again, and again, and again, until Eren is tired of your leaving, and his hands are back on your neck.

This kiss is deeper, Eren searching to satisfy the hunger aching inside of him, and you’re happy to comply when his thumb is pressing at your lower lip again. You open your mouth for him and he doesn’t waste a moment, brushing his tongue against yours experimentally, and then flush into your mouth.

He groans when you rake your fingers into his hair, and pulls back with a hissing noise when you scratch at his nape. Large hands move to grip at your waist, and he pulls you into his lap with a concentrated gaze—a brief second for him to admire the sight of you on top of him, before he resumes kissing you. He sucks on your tongue, rolls his past your teeth, and bites on your bottom lip.

You know he relishes in the sounds he elicits from you, and under any normal circumstance, you’re willing to put up a fight with him, but not now. Now, you let him unzip the back of your dress and snake his hands beneath the fabric. The rubbing motions of his hands turn into gripping, gripping into grinding, and eventually, an unfiltered moan slips past your lips when you feel Eren’s erection roll against you.

“Fuck,” he pulls back with a suck of your swollen lip, “You’re so hot.”

Eren quickly switches your positions so that he’s hovering over you. You chuckle lightly underneath him, taking the opportunity to run both your hands through his hair and cradle his head in your hold, “Haven’t done anything yet.”

“I know,” Eren murmurs, dipping his head down to press kisses into your neck, “Still so sexy. So pretty, always.”

Eren bites a hickey into your collar bone, and everywhere he can touch; your neck, your ears, your cheeks, your lips. Your moaning serves as the spark to keep him going, but he’s barely coherent himself the way you keep pulling at his hair and grinding yourself against him. Even through his clothes, you can feel how painfully hard he is.

He barely catches your tongue between his lips when you moan again, sucking harshly before bruising his lips over yours again. His hands are grabby again, finally pulling your dress completely off of your body, leaving it to form a puddle on the ground. They’re back on your as soon as possible, massaging over your tits, and running his index finger over your nipples.

“Eren... Eren, please,” you whimper, chest heaving as you look down at him. He rolls his index finger over your right nipple, with his left hand teasing the other with his thumb. You can’t tell if the look in his eyes is a product of the weed, or just his glassy, borderline predatory stare, but it makes you shiver with pleasure when he wraps his mouth around your nipple and sucks.

“I want you.”

“Want you, too,” Eren hums, pulling back with a thin trail of spit from your breast, before moving to give your left nipple the same treatment, “More than you know.”

You keen to him when he teases his teeth against you, finally having had enough you force him off of you with a tug of his hair. “Then take off your clothes.”

Eren blinks, wide-eyed but glazed all the same. He chuckles lightly, a blush spreading over his cheeks as he nods. He sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head, forgoing undoing the buttons, and pauses briefly with his hands over the zipper of his pants.

“Please tell me you’re not that gone that you forgot how to undo your zipper,” you tease him, chest still heaving from his previous ministrations. Eren smiles, doe-eyed and hazy, and shakes his head.

“No,” he reassures you, finally undoing his zipper and shimmying his pants off his legs, “Was trying to remember what underwear I was wearing. Didn't want it to be embarrassing.”

His honesty makes you laugh, and Eren pauses for a moment to soak it in. Even like this, even with him stumbling over the steps to undress himself, and you almost completely naked in front of him, he can make you smile. There’s something equally sexy and endearing about your giggles; a juxtaposition that makes him want to hug you or kiss you or something in between. And you—you like the look in his eyes even through your giggling; the way he smiles back and blushes and tells you exactly what he’s thinking.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “Don’t think mine are particularly sexy either.”

Eren hums, shuffling back on to the bed so that he’s between your legs, and leans forward to kiss you again. He still can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, his fingers immediately flying to your underwear and peeling them off your legs, pulling you closer despite the lack of space between your bodies.

“Yeah, doesn’t matter,” Eren echos, tossing the offending item to the side, before cupping your face in his hands, “I’d still wanna fuck you in your granny panties.”

“You wanna fuck me?” you question, eyes sparkling and hopeful.

“Yeah, I do,” Eren can’t help but to smile again, happy and high and drunk on you, too, “Will you let me?”

Your feverish nodding is all it takes for Eren’s mind to go hazy again; clouded with you, you, you. You pull him into a kiss, arching your body into his, and running your hands down the sides of his back. He moans at the feeling, punishing you by nipping at your lower lip and pressing your stomach back to the mattress with his palm.

Your eyes meet his as Eren lines himself up with your cunt, teasing your folds with the head; but it doesn’t take long before he finally pushes in, sheathing himself inside you completely without movement. He waits a minute, whether it’s to make you comfortable, or to gather his own bearings, you’re not sure; but when he’s ready, he flashes you a smile and waits for one in return, before he starts thrusting.

You know Eren’s not gentle; rough whether or not he intends to be by virtue of his size in comparison to you, but you seem to have forgotten just how capable he is of making you lose your senses. He has you gasping, grasping at him at him unintelligibly, feeling full with his cock inside of you.

Eren groans, borderline growls, when he feels you clench around him, when he sees you shaking beneath him. He could do this all; could watch you all day.

“So pretty, the prettiest. Prettiest girl, my favorite girl,” Eren praises, eyes raking up and down your thrashing body, “My favorite fucking girl.”

“You—you, too.”

“Yeah? I’m your favorite, too?” Eren coos, reaching out to guide your arms over your head, the force of his body pinning your hands down; you can hardly gasp before he lacess your fingers together, and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“Promised you, didn’t I? That I’d be good to you, be on my best behavior,” Eren reminds you, leaning forward.

He eyes your necklace—eyes glued to ring around it—bouncing with your body. He bends his head down to kiss it, bites at the skin near it; a possessive streak overcoming him as the diamonds shine against you. “I said I’d treat you good, always. Meant it.”

He stutters, when you squeeze him back; fingers tightening around his hold, your pussy clenching around his cock. Your whining is insistent, and mixes with Eren’s low moans and guttural noises. Eren doesn’t let up his pace, fucking you fast and deep, and it’s only a matter of time before you feel a knot twisting in your belly.

You attempt to move your arms, searching for a release of the feeling building up inside of you but Eren is strong; stronger than you, and he keeps you in your place. Keeps your arms pinned above you, keeps his palms pressed into yours, keeps his lips hovering above yours, just out of reach.

“Eren,” you call his name through shaky moans.

“Yeah? What, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, his lips needy and hungry over yours. Eren fucks you and kisses you through your orgasm, tasting your moans on his tongue in timing with him cumming inside of you. You don’t let up; kissing him lewdly while you both come down from your highs.

“So good,” Eren croons against your lips, down your jaw, into your skin, “So good for me.”

You both moan in chorus when he finally pulls out, Eren’s head laying on your collar, nose nuzzling into your neck. He lets your hands free, and immediately you wrap them around his back, holding him close as you both attempt to catch your breaths.

You don’t know how long you lay there like that, with Eren on top of you, and your thumb rubbing circles into his cheek while he sleeps soundly. Maybe an hour, maybe more, maybe less; but the euphoria of your sex doesn’t quiet seem to fade.

It might last all night, maybe even for the rest of your trip but you don’t mind. You think back to earlier in the evening, when you’d caught his gaze after your dance. The feeling isn’t all that different; warm, and fuzzy, and too much and not enough all at once. It feels good, it feels like Eren.

You hum softly to yourself, careful not to wake up the sleeping boy on your chest, when you realize exactly what these two moments have in common: a rare event in which Eren is still in front of you, steady and stagnant, no running or chasing; and you don’t want to let him go.

Sometimes Eren thinks you act oblivious on purpose just to fuck with him, because there’s absolutely no way you—or any human with a functioning nervous system and social cues—can’t tell that he’s completely, stupidly, and embarrassingly in love with you.

Long gone are his days of trying to deny it or get over it. He realized that sophomore year of high school—almost eight years ago—that no matter where he went, what kind of drug he inhaled, or how hard he tried, you’d be permanently etched into his heart. That doesn’t make it any less exhausting, and, in fact, only makes it more astounding that you haven’t caught on yet. Honestly, Eren’s considered hiring a private psychiatrist just to make nothing’s wrong with you.

Amazingly, the remainder of your vacation continues just like the former half. The only exception being that now you’re in Paris. And that he’s shamelessly coerced you into letting him fuck your brains out on several occasions. But besides that, everything’s chill.

Just two best friends traveling through France together and stopping to fuck in any semi-private location they can find. Just two peas in a pod walking along the Champs Elysées at damn near midnight. Just two best buds with linked arms tasting (see: feeding each other) every macaron flavor they come across while violinists play stupidly romantic, classical music in the background.

He knows he should probably talk to you about it, but for some reason he can’t. Like telling you would make it all too real, and give it a meaning that could so easily be taken away from him; give you a reason to want to leave him. Right now, it’s just a fantasy, and he’s free to keep dreaming, believing that he’s special and worth enough for the affection you’ve shown him.

He doesn’t want to be one in a list of your boyfriends, or fiances, or husbands; he wants to be your only one, and if he can’t be, then he’d rather be stuck to your side as your best friend. At least that way, in someway, he could remain special to you; not a forgotten, ordinary ex of your past.

Though, a best friend who he’s sleeping with regularly and he’s in love with and will always be in love with is starting to sound a lot like a husband to him. At least, the kind of husband he would like to be to you.

You call his name, asking him if he wants to try another sweet. Eren rolls his eyes. What he wants is to fuck you, and marry you, and have you bless his stupid little existence with two runts for kids that look like him but act like you so his life savings don’t run out by the time they’re twelve. But sure, he’ll settle for having you feed him another macaron in the meantime.

“This one tastes just like the coconut one,” he mumbles, chewing his way through the pastry you’d stuffed into his mouth whole.

It’s the seventh bakery you’ve stopped at tonight, and even though Eren’s growing pretty sick of the sugary treats, he’ll walk with you to every damn bakery in Paris tonight if that’s what you want.

He blinks at the thought. He’s so lovesick it’s disgusting. And he wouldn’t do a damn thing to change it.

“That’s probably because it’s almond and coconut flavored,” you say, wiping the stickiness from your fingers onto a napkin.

“I didn’t taste any almonds.”

“I don’t even think you could spell almond, much less tell me what they taste like.”

Eren simply pouts in refute, leaving you giggling at his expression. He doesn’t know if it’s possible, but you seem even prettier in Paris than in Nice. But, that’s probably his rose-colored glasses speaking.

“You think there’ll be macarons at the reception?” you question, biting into yet another pistachio flavored treat, “And if not, would it be rude to bring my own?”

He chuckles. “Yes, babe, I’m sure there will be macarons there.”

He’s always loved Paris, even when his mom moved away here and left him in New York, and he’d always loved it more when you’re with him. He feared that having to attend another, what he considered to be wasteful, wedding in arguably one of his favorite places in the world would leave a bitter taste in his mouth; but, thankfully, he’s only fallen deeper in love since being here.

“You sure you won’t be sick of them by tomorrow?” he asks, watching you debate between taste testing another variation of vanilla bean or rosé.

“How could I get sick of them?” you answer offhandedly, not sparing him a glance away as you choose the pink snack. How could he get sick of you.

“By the time we get back to New York you’ll have forgotten all about them,” he scoffs.

“Don’t worry I’ll quit it soon. I’ll have to eat something solid if I wanna take my meds and go to bed,” you spew with a smile, unaware of what you’ve actually just said, “But they are delicious and I have no regrets.”

Eren pauses. Then so do you, mouth stuffed with sickly sweet.

“I mean—”

“I know, you know,” he cuts you off, “About the meds and stuff.”

You look like you could pass out, or scream, or cry, or everything in between. Eren figures saying more is better than saying less, so he continues.

“I saw a bottle in the bathroom a few months ago,” he admits shyly, but careful about his tone, “Didn’t understand half the words on the label, but it had your name on it so I just, uh… Googled it.”

Of course he knows. Eren’s always kind of known, just never had the words to express it. He imagines that’s what you’re feeling right now.

“Oh,” you finally gape, “Why didn’t you, um… you know, like, say… anything?”

“It seemed like your secret to tell,” Eren shrugs, features softening out, “Besides, I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

Eren’s always been better at showing than saying, anyway. He hopes that his actions, small as they may seem, might have provided you with any sort of comfort in the past few months. Maybe even before that, too.

“Oh,” you repeat, continually blinking at him, “That’s… that’s it? You’re cool with it?”

Now it’s Eren’s turn to blink. “What do you mean am I cool with it? They’re your meds.”

“Yeah, but like… you’re not mad I didn’t tell—”

“Of course I’m not mad,” he cuts you off with a soft smile, “It’s not really my business. I mean, like, you’re my business because I care about you, but you have your own private stuff, too, which is cool. Besides, when I was, uh, researching it, I learned that it can be hard to tell people stuff like that even if—”

Eren shuts up when he feels your weight against him and your arms wrapped around him. Shell shocked, he takes a moment to hug you back, and slowly comes to rest his chin atop your head after leaving a flurry of kisses.

“You didn’t have to look it up or do any kind of research, you know,” you mumble softly into his jacket. Eren borderline chortles, but only hugs you more tightly.

“Of course I did. If not for you, then for myself, because I meant it when I said I’d never seen half the words on the prescription before in my life,” he replies, heart glowing at the sound of your small chuckles.

He’s expecting an equally witty response, but you surprise him when you pull back just enough to face him, a hazy smile on your face. “You’re amazing, Eren.”

Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush—fucking idiot.

“Yeah, I’m pretty great,” he boasts, leaning back into the coolest pose he could muster up while ignoring the growing heat creeping up his neck. It’s all in vain as you reach over to playfully tug at one of his ears.

He thinks you’re pretty like this. All the time, but most notably when he has you in his arms. So pretty, that he has to lean forward to kiss you; you don’t seem to mind, if the way you smile into the kiss is any indication of your feelings. Eren finds himself mirroring your grin; moving his arms from around your waist to the sides of your face.

The workers in this poor little café probably hate the two of you, but he doesn’t fucking care. He’s got his favorite girl in his arms right now, and you taste like almonds and coconuts and like the love of his life.

And he should tell you. Eren wants to tell you, and he finds himself wondering if those same intrusive, fearful thoughts were part of the driving force behind your own reason to keep your secrets from him.

You pull away from him, hands lightly draped around his neck, and you smile like you’re shy—like he hasn’t known you your whole life. Still, Eren finds himself smiling back; and thinks that if you were brave enough to tell him how you were feeling, then he should do the same.

“(_____), I… I gotta tell you something,” he starts, voice soft as his fingers curl around your waist a little more tightly, “Though, I’m kind of hoping you already know.”

You blink at him, almost innocently. Eren bites the inside of his jaw; you’re going to have to stop doing that before he jumps you again.

Better now than never, he supposes. He tries to shake his nerves when he takes your hands in his, completely covering them with his palms, and closes his eyes. Despite that, you try to offer him comfort, squeezing his fingers as best you can; and Eren takes that moment to thank his lucky stars for whoever decided to put you in his life. Because he knows that no matter what, even if he royally fucks this up, you’ll find some way to be there for him.

He slowly blinks his eyes open again, gaze resting on the ring around your neck. A faded chuckle escapes his lips when looks at it. The only one who got the wrong idea about his gift was you. But, he supposes that’s his fault; he never did explain it, after all.

“It’s nothing… It’s just that, I’m in—”

But Eren’s startled by a voice that makes him freeze. He almost wants to believe he misheard it, but he can hear the telltale clacking of vintage heels on the floor of the bakery and he knows that he didn’t mishear a thing.

Eren turns his head, and sure enough, there is his mother, in all her five foot glory, adorned in designer clothing from her beret to her shoes. With a fucking street urchin on her arm.

“Well, well, well, what a lovely surprise,” Carla beams, red lipstick perfectly in place even after a long day of wear.

Eren’s eyebrows draw together, as he takes in his mother and her fiancé standing in front of him. He can just barely register you calling out towards her, carefully maneuvering yourself off of his lap, and into the neighboring chair; but still keeping your right hand wrapped around his left. He can feel you squeeze it—whether to give him comfort, or warning, he’s not sure yet; probably both.

“It’s so good to see you!” you beam, excitedly offering her and Mitchell a seat across from the two of you at the table. Eren opens his mouth to refute, but you squeeze his hand again; a warning.

Carla leans forward to encase you in a hug, exchanging cheek kisses, and leaving Eren to stare at the street rat across from him. Mitchell seems to know better than to make eye contact with him, irises scattering from Carla’s back to the décor of the bakery while the two girls catch up.

“We missed you at the rehearsal dinner on Sunday,” Carla recounts, eyes fluttering to Eren’s briefly. One look into her son’s eyes, and she understands why; one look into his mother’s eyes, and Eren knows she has him all figured out. “I was worried you might not show at all.”

Eren strategically averts your gaze when you turn your head towards him, choosing to look at his mother instead.

“I didn’t even know there was a rehearsal dinner,” you tell her, tone polite, but Eren can hear the clear jab directed towards him, “I’m sorry, I—we would have gone, otherwise.”

“No need to apologize, darling,” Carla smiles, “I’m sure you two were very busy.”

“We were,” Eren cuts in, words definite. He sees a hint of surprise flash in his mother’s eyes briefly, expertly covered up with her sweet demeanor. She only nods in understanding, sitting back a bit to wrap her arm around Mitchell’s.

“What are you even doing here, Ma?” Eren questions, even as you do the same with his hands under the table, “Isn’t it bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”

“After the third or fourth wedding, you grow tired of pleasantries and superstitions, my love,” she replies, “This place makes Mitchell’s favorite macarons, we thought we’d share a few before the big day. Maybe get some tea as a pre-celebration.”

The topic of sweets has you speaking up once again, engaging both his mother and Mitchell in a discussion about them, and your other findings from bakery hopping earlier. If Eren didn’t love you to pieces, he would have left the table a long time ago.

It carries on much longer than he can bear to endure; almost an hour of you, and his mother, and Mitchell making pleasant conversation while he tries his best not to brood beside you, but it’s futile. He feels like a little kid again. Stuck at the dinner table with his mother and a man he was being forced to get to know, only for him to become a stranger to him in a matter of months.

Eren grinds his teeth into each other when you laugh at something Mitchell says. He’s not going to sit through his any longer; or ever again.

“Well, this has been fun,” Eren says, voice blatantly monotonous as his cuts through the conversation, “But we should all probably head back go to bed. Big day tomorrow.”

“Eren, we should—” but, he stands up quickly, hand wrapping around yours to force you upwards too.

He doesn’t care to look at you, knowing the dissatisfied expression he’ll be met with. He fishes for his wallet and pulls out too many Euros, neatly tucking them under an unused knife to pay for the meal.

Eren’s steps out from between his chair and the table. “We’ll see you guys tomorr—” But is stopped before he can take three steps away.

His mother’s hand wrapped around his wrist. She stands, significantly shorter than Eren’s full height. “Actually, Eren, could I borrow you for a bit?”

And he doesn’t want to, because he knows exactly the conversation waiting for him. But he looks down at her, lets his eyes flicker to you, and back to her, and he knows he doesn’t have the heart to walk away. Not even if he tried.

He sighs with a shallow nod. He can feel your hand on his shoulder, the proud smile on your lips when you tell him that you’ll meet him back at your hotel. Mitchell ensures him and Carla that he’ll make sure you get back safely, and Eren still can’t stand the guy, but he’s grateful that he can at least be of use for something.

Eren kisses you on the forehead briefly, a promise to you and himself that he’ll finish his confession later. After all, he probably should come to terms with the woman who taught him what love is before he vowed to love you for the rest of his life.

The walk to his mother’s hotel is silent, Eren choosing to keep to himself, hands stuffed in his pockets to prevent his mom from holding them. He’s probably acting like a child, but isn’t that what he is to her; isn’t that she treats him as.

“Look, Ma, you don’t need my approval to marry him,” Eren grumbles, when they finally exit the elevator into the hotel room, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Of course I don’t,” Carla offers him a small grin, even if he won’t look at her directly, “But it matters to me.”

“Why does it matter now? It didn’t matter with Keith, or Henry, or Henri with an I, or any of the others,” Eren mumbles, reluctantly taking a seat on the stool opposite the vanity.

His mother tracks his movements with soft eyes and an amused grin as Eren absentmindedly bends a knee and begins to fiddle with the hem of his pants. Just like he used to when he was upset as a child.

“It mattered then, too, Eren,” she tells him, sitting on the stool and facing him.

He’s surprised by her words, his wide eyes giving him away even if he attempts to act unfazed. “It didn’t seem like it.”

Carla opens her mouth to speak, but closes it, words stuck in her throat. She watches Eren’s hunched figure, her tall son not even bothering to look her in the eyes. She exhales slowly; if he were five feet smaller, he’d have tucked himself under her arm, still refusing to look at her, but he’d have snuggled his head into her side while he pouted anyway.

“I suppose it didn’t,” she admits, “In the end, the love wasn’t enough to make it last, then.”

Eren is quiet for a bit at that, pulling at his pants leg. “And… and you love him enough, now?”

“It’s more than love, Eren. It’s... happiness—for yourself and another person—it’s being okay with somebody knowing you now, and forever. Whichever version of you that is.”

“Then why did you marry them before?” Eren asks, “If you knew it wasn’t enough, if you knew it was just going to end up as another big mistake.”

“Maybe the marriages were a mistake, and some of what came with them, but I don’t think the feelings were,” Carla muses, “Love is never wasted.”

“How can you say that?” Eren questions, disbelief and exasperation painted on his face, “Of course it is—you wasted your time, and your money, and your—your everything on those people who couldn’t care less about you now!”

“Eren—”

“You let them into our house,” Eren speaks over her, “You let them into your life, and they left. They always left—”

“Eren—”

“—And you even let some of them come back! Everyone, you let everyone have another chance, another anniversary, another wedding,” He’s ranting, crying, hot, irrational tears streaming down his face; hiccups interrupting his speech, “So—so, so if it’s not wasted and everyone gets another chance and another chance and another chance—why didn’t he come back, huh? For his?”

Eren’s standing now, arms flailing every which way during his breakdown, but his mother doesn’t try to stop him. She lets him continue, hears him out.

“If it’s love—if it’s not wasted, and it’s real—then why didn’t he come back? Why didn’t he want to? Why—why didn’t he want me? Why did I end up the bastard?”

Eren looks his mother in the eyes for the first time in the duration of their conversation with that final question; with his vision blurry, and chest heaving, and cheeks wet. Carla has no words to say; can only carefully open her arms, and wait for her son to come crashing into them. And he does; and it rains and pours, and Eren holds onto his mother for dear life, and onto the pieces of her breaking heart.

“Am I not good enough to have that kind of love?” Eren asks through tears, “Am I not special enough to want to know?”

“Eren,” she finally speaks, moving to cradle his head in her hands, “You don’t have to be special or good, to be known or loved. It’s enough that you were born. That’s enough to make you deserving of love.”

She doesn’t mind the tears against her palms or the hiccups of Eren’s breathing, “And you already have it.”

And Eren looks at her with eyes wide and wild like a child, staring at the first person to have ever loved someone as messed up, and plain, and ordinary as him; and he can feel more tears bubbling at his eyes.

“Ma, I’m—I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, wrapping his arms around her even tighter, chin resting on her shoulder while his shake through his tears, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Carla hugs her son as close as she can, like he’s five years old and the apple of her eye and she can take all his pain away. “You don’t have to be. You’re my son, and I’ll love you always.”

It feels like they have all the time in the world like that, to hug and cry and apologize; but Carla hopes Eren knows that he was always forgiven; that he never had anything to apologize for in the first place.

“She loves you, too, baby,” she coos, holding Eren as tight as possible, “But you have to let her know that. That you accept it.”

“Do you think she knows?” Eren asks, words muffled into the fabric of her clothing, “That I love her, too?”

“I do,” Carla confirms, pulling away to look at Eren in the eyes; his beautiful, shining, green eyes, “But I don’t think that either of you really realized it. I mean, you did give her an engagement ring, darling.”

Eren huffs at the memory, “She thought it was a gift.”

“Because you gave it to her as a gift.”

“I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“Love has a way of making people blind,” Carla muses, “Especially two lovesick semi-adults with too much money on their hands.”

Eren’s cheeks grow pink at the accusation, “It’s your money!”

“Yes, and I’m very happy to have it,” Carla chuckles, motioning for Eren to stand up. He does, and she looks up at him with glimmering, proud eyes. “Now, go, shoo. You have a girl to propose to, don’t you? There might be two Jaeger weddings this weekend.”

Eren nods, certain of himself for the first time in a while. He turns on his heel with a vigor igniting his footsteps, but pauses when he reaches the elevator. He makes a sharp turn, running back to his mom one last time, and squeezing her suddenly, and tightly against him.

“I love you, mom,” he says; the words too foreign on his tongue, and he vows to not let them be a stranger to his vocabulary from here on out.

“I love, you, too, Eren,” Carla calmly wraps her arms around her son one last time, “And I always will.”

You half-expected your walk back to your hotel with Mitchell to be painfully awkward, but he proves to be a pleasant conversationalist, even in Carla’s absence.

You know that Eren isn’t fond of him, but you wish that he would at least give him a chance. There’s no way to know if a marriage—if any relationship—will last forever, but, sometimes, you think it’s not about knowing about forever; but, rather about wanting it to make it there; about willing to go the distance with that person.

You can see that want, that willingness that works alongside love in Mitchell and Carla’s relationship, that stands out from her past marriages. You get the feeling they’re going to last; and that, most importantly, they both want it to, too.

It’s quiet out as you both walk the streets of Paris, Mitchell taking the time to point out small notes in architecture that interest you. You readjust your jacket as a gust of wind washes over you, careful to make sure your necklace doesn’t snag against your clothing.

“That’s a beautiful ring,” he calls to you gently.

“Thank you,” Surprised, you quickly let out an embarrassed cough, looking down to your left hand resting atop the uppermost button on your coat. “It was a gift.”

“I meant that one,” Mitchell corrects, carefully gesturing to his own neck to indicate that he was talking about the ring on your necklace, and not the one on your finger.

“Oh, thank you,” you repeat, “That one was actually a gift, too.”

The older man hums, continuing your walk to your hotel. “Must have been one hell of a gift. I don’t know many people who give out engagement rings as presents.”

“Oh, no, no, no, it wasn’t—it’s not an engagement ring,” you tell him, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks even in the chilly atmosphere of the night, “Eren gave it to me, actually, a few years ago—it was a Christmas gift.”

“Eren, huh?” Mitchell smiles fondly, “That makes sense. Carla tells me how much he cares about you.”

“You—she does?” you stutter. Mitchell nods. “I—I mean, I care about him, too.”

“Enough to accept an engagement ring from him, it seems,” Mitchell taunts, “I’m no specialist, but I know a Harry Winston piece when I see it. They’re not cheap.”

“Trust me, I know,” you scoff, “I almost killed him when I saw how much he spent on it.”

“And you took it, anyway?”

“Well, he—he was supposed to return it,” you defend yourself, “Because I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea! But he just, well, he gave me the other one instead, so I wear that one on my hand.”

Mitchell pauses, just as you both stand to the entrance of your hotel. “And what was the wrong idea you didn’t want people getting.”

“That... that...,” you pause, thinking back to that Christmas day.

Even though Eren is known for spending ludacris amounts of money, the ring came as a genuine surprise to you. A couple thousand on shoes, sure—you’re victim to that yourself; a couple hundred thousand on a lavish vacation wasn’t out of the ordinary, either; but a million, maybe even more, on a ring that you could have only ever asked of him in your dreams was another thing completely.

And, sure, even a few million didn’t mean much to you or Eren at the end of the day, but it wasn’t just the price; it was the object of the money, too. To accept a house, or a car, or a jet for that amount is something you could rationalize; but a ring seemed foreign, and far out of your league.

Then there was the display and value it held beyond money. It’s beautiful, gorgeous, but more than that, it’s tailored to your exact liking. The synthesis of your aesthetic and everything you could ask for, garnished with the memory of Eren in the very design; the diamonds you love, the flowers that remind him of you, and the way they stems wrap around each other and the petals meet in the middle.

A small gasp leaves your lips and instinctively, you reach to clutch the ring in your hold. There was no way this was an engagement ring... Eren hadn’t proposed to you when he gave it to you—in fact, he was so casual about it, that it had you stunned that he hadn’t thought to consider that other people might think it meant something more than what he intended it to be.

But, looking back, it seems like you’re the only one who didn’t understand what was going on. Because Eren told you, even then, that he’d wanted you forever; you didn’t know how to hear him. It was all right there—not just in the ring, but in all his gifts, in the entirety of your friendship.

Eren loves you, more than you could ever know.

“It’s an engagement ring,” you say aloud, but more to yourself than to Mitchell, “Oh my god, it’s an engagement ring.”

Mitchell can’t do anything but smile at your revelation. You’re practically bouncing off the walls, connecting the puzzle pieces of your relationship in the middle of the street at damn near midnight, but you don’t care; because it finally feels right, and it finally, finally all makes sense.

“He, but he never pro—oh my fucking god, I’m going to kill him.”

You feel elated and confused and happy and murderous all at once. Eren wanted to marry you; Eren loved you. He wants you for the rest of his life, and you’ve been too blind to see it this entire time.

Still, you think that maybe a verbal proposal might have helped to open your eyes a bit.

“Mitchell, I have to—”

You’re cut off by the echo of your name coming from the opposite end of the street, and you can just barely make out of Eren’s figure in the faded lights of the street lamps. His name falls from your lips like a whisper, and you hardly register Mitchell’s amused, soft laughter from beside you.

“I think that’s my cue,” he says, patting you on the shoulder, “I better get back to Carla. Something tells me you two have a bit to talk about.”

You can barely nod at him, eye still wide and stunned, but a smile on your face even in your fearful anticipation. You don’t have time to thank him before he turns away, bidding you goodnight; and then you have something else to focus on, as Eren’s footsteps grow louder, and his silhouette grows sharper the closer he gets to you.

He practically crashes into you, chest heaving, hair wind-swept and wild from his running. He puts his hands on your shoulders, to steady himself physically and mentally, labored breaths ghosting over the top of your head.

“Hi,” he finally squeaks; and that stupid, big, dopey grin is on his face.

It’s ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous that you can’t help but greet him back. The two of you stand there, smiling like fools for god knows how long, before the realization strikes you for a second time.

Eren opens his mouth to finally speak, but a pained squeal leaves his lips instead as he feels the back of your hand slap his chest. “Ouch—hey, what was that for!”

“What the hell do you think you were doing proposing to me without telling me?” you screech, packing another punch to his chest for good measure, but it’s a poor barrier and does nothing to stop your tears from falling, “You’re an idiot, I should kill you for this, you know that, Eren Jaeger?”

Eren laughs softly, only to be heard by you in close proximity. He takes your offending hand in his, and reaches for your other, pulling both of them between your bodies. He can feel tears welling in his own eyes, as he looks down at the necklace, glimmering perfectly under the moonlight.  

“In my defense, the first thing you told me to do when I gave it to you was to return it.”

“I might not have said that if you told me what it meant,” you can hardly choke out a laugh through your tears; and Eren can’t stop his from falling either, “It’s insane, you know. This whole thing—to ask me to marry you at 19. For me to not realize until we’re 21.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, inching closer even though there’s barely any room between you, “I know. But I know I love you, every version of you. I always have, I always will.”

You close your eyes as Eren’s hands move to your face, gingerly sweeping your tears away from your cheeks. He feels too close, it feels like too much; but you don’t want him to move.

“You know... if you had asked me, then,” you start, blinking your eyes open with a sniffle; you’re met with Eren’s emerald greens one with far too much hope and love glimmering in them, “I—I don’t even know what I would have said.”

“And if I asked you now?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, slowly raising your hands to wrap around Eren’s wrist, and lower them to your neck, before looking at him again, “Ask me.”

Eren blinks, carefully trailing his hands up and around your neck, nimble fingers undoing the clasp of your necklace. He hardly lets the chain pool into his hand before it’s tossed aside, and the ring is still between his thumbs and index fingers as he lowers himself on to one knee.

“You are the love of my life, and there’s not a single version of life—a single version of you, or me—where I don’t want to be with you forever,” Eren says, “And you know how shit I am with my words, but I fucking mean it. I swear to you, that I’ll do my best every day to show you how much you mean to me; marry me, and I’ll prove it to you, I swear, I will.”  

Your lips are wobbling at Eren’s confession below you, and you can just barely beckon him upwards in your state. He’s hardly back on two feet before you’re pulling him against you, ghosting the word “yes” on his lips before you kiss him.

You both melt into the kiss, Eren’s hands skillfully cupping your cheeks, while he keeps the ring in his hold and bruises your lips together.

“You don’t have to prove it to me, Eren,” you assure him, hand shaking when you pull apart and let him slip the ring onto your finger—where it belongs, “You already have.”

For his first birthday as a married man, Eren requested something intimate. He wanted just a small celebration with all of your mutual friends, some good food, alcohol, and lots of fun.

Supposedly simple and intimate for him entailed renting out the top floor of the Whitney, which was currently encasing an exhibit portraying some kind of abstract modern art that allowed for a very drunk Eren and Armin have to entertain themselves by trying their best to recreate the paintings using very flawed couples aerial yoga.

The art, paired with the dimmed lighting, Jean’s choice selection of overtly sexual music, and Eren’s pick of overpriced champagne also meant that Marco, Bertholdt, Connie, and Sasha found everything ten times funnier than they were—which meant they were a million times louder than usual.

Jean stands next to you by the bar, watching as Eren attempts to hold Armin above his head by holding on to just his waist. They’re unsuccessful, of course, resulting in both boys toppling onto the ground as the majority of their older friends laugh along.

“Lucky me, I get to take him home at the end of the night,” you drawl, turning to the bartender to order another drink.

She smiles, easily preparing your martini and sliding it you with an inquiry. “That’s your boyfriend? The tall one with the brown hair?”

“No,” you sigh, eyes closed for a moment before taking the glass between your fingers. “That’s my husband, unfortunately.”

× even more notes: this fic. is my baby. it’s been a draft of mine for over two years at this point. it’s gone through various fandoms but i’ve never quite been able to complete and post it, so i’m very happy that it’s finally here! i hope you all enjoyed, and i just wanted to say that i’m glad to finally have been able to share this with you all!

[buckyownsmylife]

Follow you - Chris Evans smut

The one where Chris becomes your roomate and finds out he has a domesticity kink... and more

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, domesticity kink, friends to lovers, rommates au, pandemic mention, hair-pulling kink, daddy kink, cockwarming, kind of allusion to an age gap, but can be read as reader being into teasing chris

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Thanks to @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ for reading this over and helping me make it better! You’re the sweetest person ever!  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” I’d been trying to convince her to close her laptop for the last two hours, unfortunately without any luck. She just glanced at me before returning to her document, and I groaned as I left the living room in search of what I knew we needed.

“Close the laptop and I’ll give you a sip.” This time when she looked up, she found me holding a bottle of my most expensive whiskey, the one she’d been dying to try ever since she first got invited to my place.

It was a tense moment of evaluation while she took in my offer and her workload, her head turning from her computer to me and then back to the device again, and I found himself growing anxious because of how desperately I wanted her company that night.

“Please?” I tried to convince her, even going so far as to pout - which at least earned me a giggle. I considered it a win, especially with the way it made my chest warm up. “C’mon, we deserve it! After the week we had?”

She frowned when she thought back on the stresses we had confided in each other for the last couple of days, and I watched with glee when she slowly closed her laptop, prompting me to wave my arms around in victory. “We?” She teased, getting up to stand before me with her arms crossed in front of her body, making me laugh.

“Alright, so maybe just you.” I couldn’t really deny that my work “problems” paled in comparison to hers. “Listen, I’m only trying to help.” She narrowed her eyes at me, reaching out for the bottle and unscrewing it before taking the sip I’d promised.

“Shit, this really is good.” A smug smile took over my face as I wrapped my arms around her, walking us back to the couch before making us fall over it.

“Only the best for you, babe.” I watched her roll her eyes at the pet name, snickering at how it affected her. I knew it made her giddy and she hated it, it’s why I insisted on doing it - or so I told myself.

Something deep inside of me whispered differently, though. I tried to ignore it. She was my best friend and we were going to be living together for the foreseeable future. No one knew when this pandemic would let up.

And lord knows that nothing positive had ever come out of my investments in romantic relationships. So every rational thought in my mind was begging me not to overcomplicate this. I couldn’t stand to lose her friendship, anyway. That’s why I had invited her to spend lockdown with me - my need to know she was okay, and be able to have her around whenever I needed to vent.

She was the only one outside my family who got my anxiety well enough to help me work through it when I was feeling bad, and she had even been able to prevent me from having panic attacks more than once.

I just couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone other than her. I simply hadn’t anticipated how fucking horny this period of forced sexual privation would make me, and I never expected her to become a willing victim to my needs.

But boy, once the liquor hit and she ended up over my lap, shivering as she rode my thigh without a care in the world, was I glad that she did.

“Is this what you like?” I asked, looking up at her with my mouth hanging open, unbelieving of how fucking sexy she looked as she used my body for her pleasure. I didn’t even care that my cock was straining against my jeans, begging me to move her on top of it. As long as I could keep enjoying the show, being a part of it, I was satisfied.

“I wanna learn it,” I pressed, moving my hands to hold her ass, squeezing it the way I’d always wanted to do but never allowed myself to dream about. “I wanna learn how to please you.” She made me feel something I hadn’t felt before, in any of my past relationships. There was attraction, of course, but there was also this deep, familiar feeling that made me feel at home. It made me feel safe, and with the help of alcohol, I was desperate to explore it.

“Ugh,” she groaned, letting her head fall back, drawing my attention to her breasts, the way they bounced in front of my eyes, unfortunately still covered. My mouth watered at the sight of it, wanting nothing much than to strip her bare and wrap my lips around one of her nipples.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Evans.” The comment threw me off, making me frown as I took a hold of the hair on the back of her head and yanked her to me, devouring her lips. They were soft - so much softer than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine.

“Why not?” I panted against her mouth once I was forced to separate from her taste of whiskey to search for some oxygen. She kept moving, her eyes hazy and glossed over, and it sent a pang of lust straight down my body when I realized it wasn’t completely due to the drinks we shared. There was also desire in there.

“You want to learn?” She asked, hands bunching up my shirt as she used her hold to grind against me faster. “Then fuck me, Chris.” She molded her body to mine, engulfing my lips once more as I laid her down on the couch, excited to have her underneath me - excited to see her naked body, explore it, get to know every little thing that made her tick.

I knew it would be a moment I’d forever remember, regardless of the amount of bourbon in my blood. I just never expected it to become something I was so eager to relive over and over and over again.

It was supposed to be a one time thing. When I woke up in the morning, I was ready to go back to being roommates. We were good at that. She was a morning person, by the time I woke up every morning, she already had breakfast ready for me, and then we’d go out to the backyard to let Dodger out together.

We’d sit and talk and then I’d go for a run - she’d have done her yoga already, while I was still asleep - I’d answer some e-mails, she’d work on her laptop by my side and the silence was just as comfortable as all of our late night conversations.

She’d sneak out to the kitchen and come back with a few sandwiches for our lunch, and then the rest of the day would go by with us doing whatever mundane task we had in mind, together even if we were doing separate things, and I didn’t feel suffocated.

I didn’t even run out of things to say. By the time dinner rolled around and I followed her back to the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes while she fixed us dinner - I wasn’t allowed to cook in my own stove, mostly because she was terrified of my food but hid it under the excuse of that one time when I started a fire - then we’d eat together, watch a movie together, talk until we fell asleep - always together.

I was shocked. It’d never been this way in any of my previous relationships. In fact, I was certain it was the reason why they had never worked. I’d given up on any realistic expectation of settling down precisely because of this: I just never expected to find anyone with whom a day-to-day life wouldn’t eventually grow boring.

It’d been three months and I still loved to wake up to her coffee. We still fell asleep every night side by side, too tired to move into different beds because we had laughed our asses off after skyping Scott.

And now that sex came into play in our relationship? I just knew there was no way I’d ever go back to being nothing but friends - or living in a place where she wasn’t the first person I saw when I woke up.

It sucked that it took a pandemic and a night of alcohol to make me realize that, but damn, was I grateful that I decided to open a bottle of whiskey that evening.

I kept waiting for the catch, the moment it would all go to shit, but it never came. Our lives resumed to how they used to be, only now I had this ongoing inner battle to not just bend her over the nearest piece of furniture when we were busy, and the ability to do exactly that whenever there was nothing else to do.

And for a while it was bliss. There wasn’t a nagging voice inside my head questioning this arrangement because it was theoretically perfect. I had a best friend, a roommate and a fuck buddy, all wrapped into one single person that I adored.

Life couldn’t possibly get better - until I realized that I wanted more. Talks of lockdown being over started and she had plans of going back to her place, of course, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her.

I wanted to see my family too, but I wanted to take her with me. Introduce her to my mom, see her get along with my sisters. Witness how she’d be with my nephews and nieces - I knew how much she loved kids. And that’s when it hit me.

I’d given my heart to her. Somewhere between the morning coffees and afternoon runs, the nights where I’d rant about all of my silly problems and she actually listened to them - really listened, never making me feel bad about what could only be described as rich people problems.

All the innocent little gestures, and the not so innocent ones - when I discovered she was exactly the nasty slut I’d always dreamed of, the way she would randomly drop to her knees and suck me off, even while I was on the phone. Most times she didn’t even let me repay the favor. She just genuinely liked to blow me.

She also liked to play with me randomly, like when we were watching a movie and she mindlessly reached for my crotch, rubbing me until I got hard. It almost always ended in sex, and I just loved it.

I loved it, and I loved her, and the idea of her ever sharing this idyllic lifestyle with anyone else made me irrationally jealous.

And that’s how I knew it. I didn’t want to mess it up. But how could I not fuck this up?

Xxx

“Chris…” Her sweet voice called out to me, reaching my ears while I was hiding in my office, trying to get my thoughts in order so I wouldn’t just randomly blurt out what I was feeling for my best friend to my best friend.

To her credit, she didn’t try to force me to keep her company - but that only made me fall even deeper for her, leaving me a complete and utter mess while she went about her day as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“Yes?” I looked up to see her by the threshold, clearly reticent about invading my privacy. It made me smile, thinking back on all of the times my exes hadn’t been as understanding, even after I let them clearly know what I was needing.

“I made cupcakes, do you want me to bring you one?” The thought of her in the kitchen, baking a sweet treat just for me had my cock twitching in my pants. Biting my lips, I pushed away from my desk to finally get up and stretch my legs, taking advantage of the monitor to hide my hard-on.

“No, I’ll come eat them downstairs with you.” She smiled before leaving, and I soon trailed after her, walking into the kitchen to find the most delicious-looking little treats, just waiting to be devoured.

Much like her, I supposed.

I was reaching for one of them, already licking my lips in anticipation when something caught my eye, prompting me to raise my gaze and look at her again, but really look at her this time.

She was wearing an apron.

There was nothing inherently sexual about the damn thing, but the way she looked with it, going about her business in my kitchen like she owned the place… It just felt right, seeing her there.

And suddenly I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Y/N…” I started, leaving the cupcake back on the counter and brushing off the crumbs as I circled the kitchen island to go stand in front of her. She hummed before turning to meet me, smiling slightly to signal that she was listening to what I had to say.

But I didn’t know how to say it. So we just stood there, staring at each other until eventually her smile became a frown. “Chris, what’s going on?” I still couldn’t speak. Much to my absolute surprise though, she just sighed, wiping her hands on the apron while shaking her head, a knowing smile on her face.

“You’re stressed, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, that’s why I thought the cupcakes would be a good idea,” she explained nodding towards the tray where her sweet treats laid. “They’re a reward and a break all wrapped in one delicious cake.”

The comment was like a punch to the stomach - or a scalding wave of desire rushing through my body, straight to my groin. The idea of her thinking about my needs and catering (quite literally) to them just did something to me, and I didn’t know how to explain it - I don’t think I understood it myself.

“But since they didn’t work…” she continued, blissfully unaware of the conundrum she had put me into. “I know something else that will definitely work.” And just like that, the woman dropped to her knees in front of me, reaching for my sweatpants before I could find a way to close the mouth that was hanging open.

“I guess I’ll grab a sweet treat for myself.” She looked so devious, small hand encircling my already pathetically engorged member, that all I could do was whisper an, “Oh, shit,” when she immediately wrapped her lips around it,  starting to suck me off without any preamble.

My fingers were white as I held onto the counter behind me to keep myself up. She looked so good, staring up at me with her lips wrapped around my dick, I felt like I was about to blow already.

Why did she have to be such a fucking tease?

“Oh, God,” I moaned when she managed to engulf the entirety of my member inside her throat, the choking noises getting to my head. My hand instinctively laced with her hair, first to hold her lips close to my navel, then to pry her completely off of my member.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned once she was able to speak, surprise written all over her features while I was still staring down at her slightly teary face and trying to find my voice.

“I-I have a problem.” There. I said it. I had finally made some progress in my goal to let her know what was going through my head. Only instead of curiosity, what I got was a confused expression from the woman still holding my dick, her eyes darting from my own to the member throbbing between her fingers.

“No, you don’t!” It would have been funny if I wasn’t so fucking frustrated. Yanking her by the hair, I complained, “Not that kind of problem!” pulling her to the living room so I could throw her on the couch, trying to ignore her moans of pleasure in the process.

I’d figured out pretty early on that she had a pretty serious hair-pulling kink, and if my plans of sitting down and having a level-headed conversation were ever in motion, they surely went out of the window the second she pulled my body down to cover hers and adjusted my cock so it would easily fill her.

“Son of a…” I groaned, letting my head fall down against her chest as the little vixen gleefully giggled underneath me, legs wrapped around my torso as she tried to thrust up and tempt me to move.

“Just wait a second,” I managed to reason, but she just shook her head.

“Fuck away your problem, Chris. Use me. I want you to.” Motherfucker. I really couldn’t catch a break with her. Just as she started to make me move again, my hand instinctively wrapped around her neck, lightly squeezing it just enough to get her to shut up.

“I wanna start a family with you,” I finally spilled, looking deep into her eyes as I tried to ignore that I was still balls deep inside of her. Her eyes widened, and now her mouth was the one hanging open.

I couldn’t really relish in it because she looked absolutely delicious and she felt stupidly heavenly to my throbbing dick.

A few seconds went by without as much of a reaction from her and I was about to pull out - despite still being achingly hard - but her legs held me tighter, stopping my plans of leaving her tight haven.

“You know…” She started to speak, a little out of breath, catching my attention as I finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye again. “When I first met you, I thought you were the epitome of a fuckboy.”

The unexpected sentence had me snorting, and then I just couldn’t stop laughing. Finally pulling away from her, she fixed her hair when she sat up and I did the same, shaking my head slightly as I rubbed my eyes.

Our own relative nakedness - well… mine, she was wearing her usual dress with no underwear under the damn apron - didn’t affect anything when I pondered over her words, until I decided to break the silence.

“I mean… I think I was?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she took in my response, analyzing it, weighing its validity in that gorgeous head of hers. I was nervous, but she hadn’t blew me off yet. And quite honestly? I’d do anything for that little hope that was growing inside of me.

“What changed?” Was her question, so unexpected I couldn’t help but question, “Huh?”

“What made you change?” It wasn’t an unwelcome inquiry, especially when the response became clear to me, lighting up my brain and warming my chest, spreading all over my body until I had no choice but to voice it.

“I realized I could have a future with you.” My smile was vulnerable but honest, and in her eyes, I could see that she knew that. When she threw one leg over my lap, straddling my hips, I allowed myself to breathe deeply again, leaning on the soft cushion while taking a hold of her ass.

“So, how are we gonna do this?” She non-nonchalantly asked, slowly rubbing herself against my still half-hard member. I groaned when I realized the implication of her words, knowing that the meaning paired with the feeling of her wet lips dragging along my cock would get it back up in no time at all. “You wanna do me right now?”

The brashness of the question made my eyes light up, as weird as it may sound. In that moment, it became clear just how perfect for me she really was, giving me what I needed exactly in the way I didn’t know how to ask for it.

“See? This is why I’m in love with you.” She rolled her eyes at that, making me laugh. I’d anticipated the gesture, I knew it’d take her longer to say it, but it was alright. The fact that she was willing me to give me a child was more than enough proof of her feelings for me, if her entire behavior ever since she moved in wasn’t already.

“Shut up and fuck me, Evans.” Throwing her back against the couch, she yelped in surprise when I took off my shirt and slapped the inside of her thigh, assuming my usual position of hovering over her smaller frame.

“Spread your fucking legs, darling. I’m gonna fuck you real good.” The way she bit her lip as I slowly penetrated her again showed me just how excited the prospect got her, and as I started to make good on my promise, her moans told me just as much.

“Holy fuck,” she commented as I pounded her ruthlessly, weeks of frustration and the rush of anticipation getting the best of me, and I was glad for the feeling of her nails biting into my skin because otherwise, I’d probably run over the edge of not even caring about her own pleasure as I chased mine.

“You gonna cum inside of me, honey? Make me a mom? Finally fulfill your dream of becoming a daddy?” Her words detracted me from my task of sucking bruises on the skin that was now mine to bruise, mine. I threw my head back, yelling a, “fuck yes,” as my hips sped up, desperate to fill her up, but I was determined to get her to cum before me.

“Say it,” she ordered, small hand circling my throat as best as she could, a throwback to what I’d done only moments prior. It wasn’t enough to choke me, but it did catch my attention. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Tears escaped the corners of my eyes as I blinked, the intensity of the moment overwhelming in the best of ways. “God, you are such a fucking tease…” She chuckled underneath me, giving my throat a squeeze before she raised up on her elbows to kiss my jaw.

“Better get used to it… daddy.” And just like that, I realized that I had yet another kink I hadn’t known about before her. Or maybe it was just her, and I was obsessed with the damn woman, painfully turned on by every little thing that she did.

“I’m gonna cum deep inside your little pussy, sweetheart,” I finally gathered myself enough to do as she asked me to. “You’re gonna belong to me forever now. Give me kids, make me happy. How do you like that?”

The mischievous grin she gave me told me everything. “I love it.” I knew this was her way of saying what she couldn’t yet voice, and I’d take it. I’d take anything she gave me, any chance I got to love this wonderful woman.

We came together, both riding our highs in deep ecstasy. I moaned when I felt myself empty all of my seed inside of her, incredibly excited about the prospect of starting our future together right then.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I cradled her face in my hands as I struggled to catch my breath, but she turned it to the side and pressed a kiss to my palm and I was breathless all over again. It was such a simple action, why did it get to me so much?

“You’re not too bad yourself, Chris.” I didn’t want to part with her warmth, so I just adjusted us on the sofa in a way that kept me inside of her, sighing contently as I realized I’d never have to sleep away from her again.

“I’m gonna stay right here all night.” I adjusted myself so I was resting my face on her boobs, perfectly happy to do just so, but by the tone of her voice, I knew she had a teasing smile when she called me an, “Old man.”

“And here I was, thinking you’d be able to go again.” Warmth filled my chest at the realization of just how badly she wanted me - just as much as I wanted her too. I was so damn ecstatic. Not even her pokes at my age would be able to affect me.

“Oh, darling… better get ready,” I warned as I adjusted myself to hover over her again, taking notice of the excited glint in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she stared back at me. “I’m never gonna get enough of you.”

The next morning, I added a new kink to the list of random bits of information that were driving me slowly insane as I felt the overwhelming need to bend the woman that I now got to call ‘mine’ over the nearest piece of furniture and rail her until I had cummed deep inside her pussy: seeing her in my shirt while cooking breakfast.

Yeah, I was going to live a happy life by her side.

[matan4il]

Hey, this is probably a wildly unpopular opinion right now and maybe you disagree too, which is fine, but I respect your blog and thought you’d be a good person to bounce this off. I truly, unequivocally do NOT think Buck needs a breakdown arc. It seems like some fans want it just because Eddie had one, and to be blunt, the mere thought of it annoys and bores me. Looking back, there have been plenty of moments that focused very much on Buck’s state of mind, from the ladder truck to his family secret; each time, I felt sympathy because he is one of my favorite characters. Also, he has also shown tremendous growth over the past season, from being a good friend to Eddie (who’s always been a good one to him) to ending a toxic relationship on his own terms. Also, his sisters back and there’s no proof in canon that he stopped therapy; the finale of season 5 set up what could be a positive era in which he continues to thrive. So I just think writing him having a breakdown would be repetitive, derivative, and a disservice to this wonderful character. I’d like to see him continue growing into the good man he is, maybe realize a specific calling within firefighting or adopt a pet (maybe a kid, it could happen!) If anything, I’d rather see Hen or Chim get a mental health storyline like that this season! Anyway, thanks if you’ve read this far and have a wonderful day! 😁

Hi Nonnie!

You are always welcome to tell me whatever you want to. I’m not one to care much about what is and isn’t popular, I just enjoy talking to you lot, hearing what you think and sharing what I do... So thank you for sharing! *hearts*

I think a breakdown story worked in s5 for Eddie because on the one hand he has endured so much trauma, and just as importantly, on the other hand he is so repressed. Because he was taught to be so repressed. He’s not someone who can easily come forward and say he needs help. Even when he says it, he’s not really sold on it, meaning that his walls are still up. Like when he went to therapy in s3. He did it because Bobby kind of forced him in that direction and he did it for Chris, but he still wasn’t convinced that he personally would be better off thanks to it. That why it had to be something drastic to crack him open, it had to be a breakdown to get him to realize he can’t go on like that.

Buck, on the other hand, isn’t shy about opening up, asking for help, sharing his emotions, or seeking out therapy. He’s endured a lot of trauma as well, but he’s not quite as repressed as Eddie is. So it doesn’t feel as right for him. And more than that, right after Eddie’s arc in s5, if Buck has a breakdown arc in s6, it would feel like a repeat. Now don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of parallels there, so that if the show decided to go down that lane, I’m sure they would play off them brilliantly. And if 911 decided to do a breakdown for any character, regardless of their background, I’m sure the result on our screens would be great. So I can very much see why some people want to see it. Because our show is really that good, no matter what challenge it takes on. Yet, I agree with you that for both of the reasons mentioned above (who Buck is as a character, as well as the timing right after Eddie’s breakdown), I tend to think 911 is less likely to go in that direction in s6. Which doesn’t mean we’re not going to see the show delve into his psyche! He’s a main character, a young (attractive and loved) one, he’s newly single, there is no chance in hell that 911 isn’t going to dedicate a lot of time to him in the new upcoming season. We’re going to see him change and grow without a single shred of doubt!

Thank you again for sharing, hope you have a great day! xoxox

(If you're looking for my ask replies, here is my ask tag! xoxox)

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Rivalry Put To Rest

Pairing - Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Arranged marriages (non of that under age like child marriages though fuck that yuck, these are obviously of age adults i just really wanna make that clear jesus), praise kink, modern AU, just lovely soft sex with my favorite man :'^).

Word Count - 2.4k

Other Comments - Dude it’s been so long since ive actually written anything im so sorry. But i couldn't resist writing this. I know i promised xiao but he will come in time. This is a little bit of a slow burn, or at least the sex doesnt start right away lol i want this to be nice and soft. P.s. youre on birth control so dont worry about no condom lol.

You did not like this idea. Why your parents were still forcing you into this was beyond you seeing as how you were a fully grown ass adult. You just couldn’t stomach the disappointment you would be seen as in their eyes. You were the daughter to the CEO of one of the most well known Law Firms in Teyvat. Zhongli was the son of another CEO who controlled your Rival company. Yours's and his parents wanted to finally settle the bad blood between the firms by having the two of you get married. You knew damn well the benefits of doing this was, god forbid if your Fathers firm went underwater, you would still be secure with Zhongli as your husband.

It’s not that you didn’t like Zhongli, and he certainly was not ugly; you just couldn’t stand your freedom to choose who you really wanted to marry being ripped from you. It was non negotiable though, so you had to go through with it. Zhongli didn’t seem to mind at all, he thoroughly enjoyed his very brief moments he had with you before, and was frankly excited to get more of those moments. He just hoped you didn’t resent him or blame him for this.

You both of course had an extravagant wedding, why would you not when your family was one of the wealthiest in Teyvat. You were grateful to your parents for letting you invite a few of your friends, and it seemed Zhongli had done the same. There was almost like a crowd formed around you two at the after party, you talking to your friends, and him with his. Zhongli had offered you his arm to hold onto, but you politely declined, feeling that even just holding his arm was too intimate for you.

“Already trouble in paradise for the two lovebirds?” One of Zhongli’s friends had chuckled, a red head with a stupidly smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as you shot a look at him. Your friend Ningguang frowned, turning to look at your now husband.

“Control your dog, Mr. Zhongli.” You let out a chuckle, when you heard Zhongli’s friend scoff.

After a while, it was customary for the newlyweds to go on their honeymoon; so after a couple of hours you had to bid farewell to your friends and family. You approached the jet the two of you would be taking, with Zhongli carrying the luggage not far behind. You went ahead and boarded, while your new husband spoke with the pilot and the crew, sighing to yourself.

“Come on (y/n) suck it up, this honeymoon will be over sooner than you know it.” You mumbled to yourself, settling into the high class jet.

“Did you say something (y/n)?” You jumped, not expecting to hear Zhongli’s voice. “Ah.. My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.” You sighed and shook your head, waiving your hand to dismiss the apology.

“You’re fine Zhongli, I’m just… Nervous is all.” He hummed in response, nodding as he settled himself into the jet.

“I understand (y/n), I really do apologize about this being thrusted into your lap. I know this isn’t the ideal circumstances for a young woman to go through.” You nodded, glad that he understood your hesitance to the situation. Zhongli really wasn’t a bad guy.

“It’s really not your fault Zhongli, I understand you probably had no more say in it than I.” You gave him a reassuring smile, the first genuine smile to grace his line of sight. Without noticing he found himself smiling back, relieved that you didn’t see him with any contempt. A comfortable silence settled, as the jet took off towards your destination.

It wasn’t a long flight, and along the way you were able to make small talk, slowly learning more about Zhongli. After two short hours, you felt the jet jump slightly against the ground before steadying itself on the runway. After a few more moments, you both departed, Zhongli once again handling the luggage, leaving your side to retrieve it.

Before you knew it, you were at the house you would be staying at for your honeymoon. It sat on a beautiful beach side shore, with a large open patio looking out over the ocean. By the time you guys had arrived it was already around 10:00 o’clock at night, so the crescent moon was high in the sky as you both stepped out onto the patio. The moon and stars gleamed against the inky black water, with the rhythmic beating of the waves lulling you both into a comfortable silence. You stood next to your husband and finally for the first time that night, actually took in his face.

The light of the scenery exposed the beauty Zhongli held in his face, the pale light bouncing off his cheekbones and illuminating his golden irises as he looked out over the sea. He must’ve felt you staring because moments later those golden eyes were locked on yours.

“Do you like the scenery (y/n)?” You gave a quick nod before ducking away from his gaze, a red flush rising to your face. You heard him chuckle for a moment before shifting.

“I know what is customary to happen on our honeymoon, and I do not want you to feel pressured to fulfill that part of our relationship.” You flushed even more as you suddenly found the pattern of the wood to be very interesting. You had completely forgot that sex was usually something people did on honeymoons. It seemed normal, because generally the people who get married have had a relationship before this so nothing felt awkward about the topic. Obviously that wasn't the case in this situation, but there was something in you that kind of wanted to. Something in you that felt comfortable enough with him to do it, you already trusted him which shocked you. What if he wasn’t though? What if he was uncomfortable with the thought of having sex with you right now which is why he brought it up so suddenly?

“Thank you Zhongli, you’re too kind. You’ve truly been so understanding through this entire thing.” You looked back up to him finally, and found a gentle smile on his face. He nodded and hummed before turning back to the house.

“We should probably get to bed, it’s already fairly late.” You nodded, pulling out your phone to check the time. You both walked about into the house together. “There is another room down the hall from the master bedroom if you don’t want to sleep in the same bed. It’s smaller so I could always take it.” There he goes, being considerate and kind; handling your thoughts and feelings like glass that would break any second. You remained silent for a moment contemplating on what he had said, before gently shaking your head.

“No, no, it’s fine. I want to share the bed with you.” You smiled up at him, and he looked almost surprised with your willingness, but the shock didn’t last for long before he smiled back at you and nodded; offering you his arm to hold on to, which you shakily took. You both reached the bedroom, where he had placed all of your guy's luggage before letting you go to retrieve your sleeping clothes as he did the same. You went into the bathroom, to give yourself and him some privacy before slowly re-entering. Zhongli was in a pair of brown silk pants with golden accents and a black short sleeve shirt. Your eyes met each other, and Zhongli smiled when he saw you.

“I know that these were unideal circumstances to get married, but I’m happy it is you who is my spouse. I can only hope you think the same of me, and that at some point you can genuinely feel connected to me.” You blushed as he said this, genuinely taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. You feel bad for dreading and almost resenting Zhongli when you were first notified about the engagement, once finding out just how compassionate and caring the man before you was. Slowly, the two of you made your way into the large king sized bed. There was a large gap between the two of you, large enough to comfortably fit another person. Your mind raced a mile a minute trying to decide whether or not you should scoot in a little closer to the man next to you.

And so you did, without taking another moment to think about it you shifted closer to Zhongli until your side gently pressed against his. You felt Zhongli stiffen beside you for a brief moment, and for a split second you regretted scooting in; that was until you felt him roll over onto his side and wrap a strong arm around your torso. You could really take in Zhongli’s scent like this and you noticed that he smelled like amber rum, chestnuts, and a hint of vanilla. It wrapped you in a warmth that lulled you into a comforting silence as the two of you laid together like this.

You rolled onto your side, letting Zhongli’s arm now rest against your waist. Your noses were almost touching as the two of you stared into each other's eyes. You saw his eyes dart down to your lips for the briefest of seconds, letting yourself do the same.

“Zhongli…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?” You saw Zhongli’s eyes widen as his gorgeous eyes met yours, not expecting you to ask him that.

“I would love nothing more… Darling.” You flushed at the mild pet name, before softly placing your lips onto his. It felt as time skidded to a halt, as the two of you moved against each other with the grace of a slow dance. Soon enough it became heated, as you changed positions and straddled his hips. You could feel his boner pressing against you through his pants, and it made warmth bloom in your chest.

“You really want to do this right? You don’t feel pressured my dear?” You smiled at Zhongli’s questions, nodding before he could get another one out. It felt good to be so concerned about, so doted over.

“Yes Zhongli, I really want to do this with you. I trust you.” This time it was Zhongli’s turn to flush, an elegant smile gracing his lips. Before long, the both of you were out of your sleeping clothes and back on top of one another. Your back was to the silken bed sheets, as Zhongli was on top of you lining his hard cock up with your eager pussy. Zhongli gave you one last look before slowly entering you inch by inch. To say he was huge would be an understatement, so he knew he had to take it slow with you so as to not hurt you in any way. Zhongli needed this to be a good experience with you, he would never forgive himself if he hurt you or made this unenjoyable in any way at all.

The noises you were making and the way your hands were clawing at his back reassured him that he was doing everything right so far, always stopping after pushing in a few inches to give you time to adjust. Without thinking, Zhongli's mouth just started moving as words spilled out.

“You’re doing so good for me my angel, you’re taking me so well. You’re too good for me.” With the praise spilling out of Zhongli’s mouth, you couldn’t help but unleash a flurry of loud moans, as he bottomed out. He stood still for a couple moments, making sure you were nice and comfortable, until he felt you trying to move against him; trying to get him to move in and out of you.

“If you were ready for me to move, all you needed to do was ask my gem.” You let out a whine like moan, that evolved into a guttural groan when he finally started to thrust in and out of you. Your nails raked across his skin, surely leaving marks for you to admire after this was all said and done. He wasn’t skipping out on the marks either, as he sucked and bit at your skin, still throwing out praise every time his mouth left your skin. His fingers dug into your hips, as he sped up. He just couldn’t help himself, your wet quivering pussy just felt way too good wrapped around him; sucking him in every time he pulled out.

“I can’t believe it took us getting into an arranged marriage to finally meet, my god where have you been all my life.” Zhongli had begun to groan, obviously getting close to tipping over the edge, with the way his thrusts continued to get sloppier every so often. You moaned in response, too blissed out of your mind to form actual words. Zhongli’s head fell against your shoulder, his ebony black hair hanging off his shoulders.

With a few more strokes, Zhongli had both of you tumbling over the edge and cumming in unison. All that could be heard in your room was the quiet crashing of waves and the combined panting of the both of you. After a few moments of Zhongli getting his breath back he tumbled down next to you, sweaty shoulders touching. A couple seconds of silence passed before you spoke up in a raspy broken voice.

“It took us so long because I’m technically your rival.” You were giggling slightly, when Zhongli let out a loud chuckle.

“I guess you are right my dear, but now we are joined together. And I cannot wait to see what comes of our joining.”

[atiny-piratequeen]

𝑯𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒄-𝑨𝑴𝑨𝑩 𝑽𝒆𝒓 (18+)

𓆩♡𓆪 Pairing: Jung Wooyoung (Ateez) x Seo Changbin (Stray Kids) x Nonbinary! Choi Yeonjun (Tomorrow x Together) x Gender-Neutral AMAB Reader

𓆩♡𓆪Rating: Explicit (18+)

𓆩♡𓆪 Genre: Smut, Humor, Sex Worker Au, Established Relationship, Fluff

𓆩♡𓆪SWs: Sex Work (Pornography, Nude Photos, Consensual Filming, the use of a “Fluffer”), Switch Reader, Switch Idols, Group Sex, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Thigh Grinding, Hair Pulling, Cock Riding, Lingerie, Multiple Orgasms, Bondage/Shibari, Teasing, Finger Sucking, Frottage, Cock Slapping, Cock Ring, Sex Toy, Cock Sharing, Aftercare

𓆩♡𓆪 WC: 6.3k

𓆩♡𓆪A/N: Whew first fic of ‘23! Thank you all for your patience and thank @jacksons-goddess-gaia​ for commissioning yet another interesting work from me! I hope you like it and I would like folks to know there are TWO versions of this fic (as evidenced by the title.) This version will be with a GN AMAB reader, and the AFAB version will be linked in the bullet point underneath. I hope everyone who reads this enjoys, and if you do please remember to like and reblog~

𓆩♡𓆪 AFAB Ver 

𓆩♡𓆪 AO3 | Taglist Form | Commission Sheet

𓆩♡𓆪  ©atiny-piratequeen/nocturne-overtures 2023. do not repost, translate, or use my works. Minors DNI

•❥Network Pings: @kwritersworld​ | @kdiarynet​ | @k-vanity​

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It all started because of Jung Wooyoung. 

You never expected to get a request for a collaboration any time soon when you’d started camming. As you reread the notification over and over, you feel your leg bounce below you under the table. 

Not only was he another model, but he was also popular, making videos for damn near every demographic under the sun. You stare at his subscriber count, and for much longer than you cared to admit, you wonder if this is some kind of joke. 

‘I don’t mind collabing at all, but I’d like to see you face to face first and talk this out, if possible?’

He responded faster than you expect him to, asking if you’d like to meet up at a well-known family-owned cafe and book chain located in town. 

Up until the very moment you push open the cafe doors, you hold onto a healthy level of skepticism that this was even real. 

Reality sets in the moment you look across the moderately busy cafe and your eyes land on the dark-haired man in question, laughing as he reached over the table to fix the bangs of a buffer gentleman, though he was a bit on the shorter end. 

“Um…Good afternoon, I’m sorry I’m late.” You apologize and give both men a bow. Wooyoung recognized you and perked up immediately, nudging the man beside him. 

“There you are, Y/n! We finally get to meet!” He smiled at you like you were an old friend and you feel a bit of shyness creep into your bones before you clear your throat and wave. 

“Hello. I’m sorry I’m late!” You bow again and look at the man sitting beside Wooyoung curiously. 

“This is Changbin, he’s my boyfriend.” He smiled easily and you feel like the hamster running on the wheel in your brain tripped, fell, and flew clean off the damn thing. 

Clearly, Changbin is used to things like this, waving gently. 

“Don’t be nervous. I’m not here to cause trouble. I actually help Wooyoung with recording. Yeonjun is floating around too but when they get ready, they’ll join us too, if that’s okay. They do makeup and hair for any still photoshoots we may have.” 

You feel like everyone is on a completely different page of a different book while you’re stuck in the revolving doors of the metaphorical library but eventually, your thoughts kickstart back on and you nod slowly. 

“So..you have a little team for your channel? That’s…actually pretty neat. Have you always helped out?” You take a seat across from the couple, grateful for the carefree attitude of Changbin and the literal ball of compressed sunshine that made up Wooyoung’s entire being. 

“He said he wanted to try it out to gain a bit of confidence so I shopped around for a decent camera and we started with amateur-styled things first before we got the hang of it and moved to this platform,” Changbin answered honestly, an arm loosely around the back of Wooyoung’s chair. Wooyoung pressed a kiss to his jaw and smiled. 

“He’s in a bunch of them too but he never shows his face. Well, not fully. The blindfold and mask don’t cover that much…” He trailed off, leg swinging idly as Changbin went a bit red in the face, thinking back to that particular video where he’d let Wooyoung tie him to their bed and ride him while he lay blindfolded and bound. 

You listen and look from Wooyoung to Changbin, arching a brow. 

“So…which one of you thought to bring me in?” You inquire curiously. Wooyoung smiled, his nose scrunching while Changbin glanced behind you. 

“That would be me.” 

You nearly jump out of your skin as a person sits beside you, balancing a platter of powdered croissants on their hand. They look at you with an amused smirk, extending a hand. 

“Name’s Yeonjun.” 

You take their hand, shaking it a few times as you hold your hand to your chest, your heart beating erratically from the startle. They seem amused by it, propping their cheek up in their palm as they look at you with half-lidded eyes. 

“Your eyes are nice.” 

Your blink and clear your throat, ignoring the heat crawling up the back of your neck as Yeonjun seemingly checked you out. 

“Don’t mind them. Let’s talk about why we’re here.” Wooyoung spoke up, drawing your attention back to him. 

“I’ve seen your videos after Jun suggested the collaboration. If it’s okay with you, I’d really like to work with you and do some sets together,” he spoke with a smile on his face, foot swinging to and fro under the table. The heat crawls all the way up to your ears as you cough quietly. 

“I haven’t been with any other um…”actors” before, so I don’t know where to begin. If I’m being quite honest, this is a bit on the sudden end and I don’t know you well enough for me to have confidence and say yes immediately.” You speak honestly, wringing your hands as they sat on the table. None of them speak immediately, and a small chill of uncertainty rolled through you. 

A lot of people would jump at this chance. Free promotion for your own works, Wooyoung was a very attractive man and Changbin seemed to be very supportive of his partner’s endeavors. The more the silence went on, the more anxious you feel until finally; 

“I mean that’s fair. Would you like to hang out sometime or anything like that? Even if you don’t want to collaborate, it’s not like we can’t be friends.” Wooyoung spoke, seemingly sorting out his words in his head first. A wave of relief washed over you as Changbin kissed Wooyoung’s head and then stood. 

“I’m gonna go get some drinks for us all. Anyone want anything?”

“Can I have the new fruit drink on the menu? The wildberry one?” Wooyoung batted his lashes at Changbin and his boyfriend responded with a laugh and a nod, looking at Yeonjun. They cocked a brow at him before he nodded. 

“Right. Neapolitan coffee. And you? What would you like, Y/n? It’s my treat.” He smiled softly. You feel your shoulders relax a bit as you tell him your preferred drink. As he stepped away from the table, you turn your attention back to Yeonjun. 

“How did you come to be the stylist for Wooyoung?” You inquire. Yeonjun let out a chuckle, completely relaxed beside you. 

“Wooyoung and I have been friends for years. I’ve seen him naked more times than I can count. So I figured I’d help him out. I can’t even trust this one to do skincare without beating the hell out of his own cheeks, I don’t trust him to bring out his own features.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with how I do skincare!”

“Boy please, you beat your own cheeks harder than Changbin and I do.” 

You startle a barista walking by with the ungodly snort that left your lips as you burst into laughter, watching as Wooyoung swatted Yeonjun’s shoulder. It took nearly a full minute for you and Yeonjun to stop laughing as Wooyoung, which was made harder as he grew flustered, scolding the two of you.

Changbin came back with a confused look on his face, brow arching as Wooyoung pointed at Yeonjun. 

"THEY’RE FIRED!"

"Yeah, good luck getting that smokey eye perfected, then."

Wooyoung let out a scandalized gasp and Yeonjun smirked. 

"Sure you wanna fire me, bestie?" 

Wooyoung huffed and Yeonjun let out a laugh, seemingly satisfied. Changbin shook his head and placed your drink in front of you, sending you a smile. 

"If you want, you can choose the next place we go on a date at. I think it's best we all get to know each other better regardless of your decision at the end."

You smile and nod. "I'd love to. Thank you."

The rest of the day was comfortable and you'd ended up exchanging numbers with all three of them. 

You head out of the shower later, making sure the trio knew you’d gotten settled in just fine and hadn’t had any issues. As you dry your hair, curiosity nibbled at you and you find yourself taking a look back at Wooyoung’s account. 

Your leg bounced idly as you scroll through some of his photoshoots, admiring the quality and work put into them. 

There was something about meeting the team behind the art that made you appreciate it all the more. As you scroll, you finally find some where Changbin is present, the first being a POV shot of Wooyoung on his knees, lipstick smudged across his lips as he kissed the tip of Changbin’s cock.

“He’s in a bunch of them too but he never shows his face.”

Perhaps Changbin was every bit as versatile as his boyfriend, since the pictures regularly flip flopped between who was the top or bottom. You’re pretty sure you can even see Yeonjun in a few of them, especially the one of Wooyoung riding Chanbin as a different hand wove itself into his hair, tugging back so his body would be on display. 

You feel a telltale ache between your legs and feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you close your laptop. 

“Okay yeah, that’s enough of that.” You mutter quietly, flustered as you get under the covers. 

It took you a full hour of tossing and turning before you toss them back off of your legs, grumbling in annoyance. You glare down at the traitorus bulge between your legs, narrowing your eyes.

“There’s no way I can fucking sleep like this.” You sigh out in frustration before you move to grab your laptop again. You utter a few flustered lies to yourself, before you start browsing, eventually settling on one with a romantic title. 

Admittedly, no matter how good of an actor he may be, you find yourself giggling a bit at Wooyoung’s acting as he came into frame, romantic lighting in the room. He’d stripped himself slowly, dropping each article of clothing haphazardly onto the floor, smiling with a seductive half-lidded gaze as the lingerie clung to his body in all the right places. 

The humor in you died off as you bite your lip, watching as Wooyoung crawled into Changbin’s lap, kissing him slowly as he rolled his hips downward. Yeonjun would star in these sets, as well, you found out, but undoubtedly it was Changbin Wooyoung was currently seducing, rolling his hips down onto his thick thigh, riding slowly. 

You bite your lip and try to jump ahead a little bit, but end up going a bit too far, landing on the timestamp where Wooyoung had his arms wrapped around Changbin’s shoulders, head thrown back as he rode him like he was his last lifeline. Your eyes drift down Wooyoung’s body, the bra completely absent and the panties to the lingerie ripped enough for Changbin’s thick cock to slide between his cheeks. 

Wooyoung rolled his hips, looking back as he clenched around Changbin’s cock, the lube making a mess of both of them as Changbin reached around to plant both of his hands on Wooyoung’s ass. He let out a delghted purr before he felt Changbin bounce him, making him go at his faster, more desperate pace as he pulled him closer and closer to release. 

Your hand found its way between your legs as you watch, grabbing your cock and stroking slowly as your eyes remained glued on your screen. You’re thankful for the headphones in your ears, picking up every gasp, moan, and growl as Wooyoung finally came, tightening his grip around Changbin’s shoulders as he rode him, his ass jiggling with every bounce as eventually he achieved his desired goal;

Milking Changbin’s cock. 

You groan and spread your legs a bit, rocking your hips up and fucking your fist as you watch Changbin’s balls throb and draw up, his cock soon covered with his own cum as Wooyoung never slowed his hips, purring. 

“That’s it, that’s what I want.” He mewed, rolling his hips at a slower pace like he was going to stop before he smiled wickedly and kept going. 

“I’m not done~”

You don’t know how many times you’d restarted and watched that particular video over and over, but by the end of it, as you make your bambi-legged walk of shame to take a(nother) shower, you idly wonder just what kind of videos you’d shoot with Wooyoung if you were to accept. 

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 “Do you ever feel like you’re third wheeling when you’re with them?” You inquire, watching as Wooyoung and Changbin wander over to a dinosaur exhibit. Yeonjun stood beside you, sipping a drink with circular rimmed glasses on their face as they watched the two point at different plaques and read off fun facts. 

“Not really. They’re practically my boyfriends at this point, both of them just suck dicks at actually initiating.” 

You nearly choke on the pretzel in your hands as a woman passing by gives Yeonjun a scandalized look, hurrying away. They didn’t seem to care, watching the two with a quiet gaze. You watch their side profile before looking towards the two, watching as Wooyoung finally noticed you and Yeonjun had fallen behind. He rushed up to you both and smiled. 

“C’mon, quit daydreaming! They have a T-Rex over there!” He darted off, expecting you two to follow at the same pace. You find yourself laughing and looking over at Yeonjun, matching their pace as they made their way into the exhibit. 

“Is that why it was you who initiated this collab thing?” 

“Yep. Wooyoung thinks you’re cute and mentioned it in passing. Changbin told him to dm you. Both of them are idiots and didn’t do anything about it. So I did.” They hum, looking up at a brachiosaurus. You blink, taking a moment to let the words catch up to you before you look over at Woo and Changbin, finding Woo stealing glances at you and Yeonjun’s general direction. 

“It’s fine if you don’t want anything like that. Plenty of people don’t mix business with pleasure. To be honest, you could tell us you’d like to stay a friend and not do anything of the sort and that’d be fine with any of us.” They send you a smile and a wink before making their way over to Wooyoung. 

You look to the three of them, feeling a smile tug at your lips before following. 

To your (pleasant) surprise, none of them pressed you on the collaboration, as promised. Months had gone by, with Wooyoung posting his content and you posting yours, all while the four of you went on dates in between. 

Museums, art galleries, amusement parks, dinners out under the stars-

You’d honestly felt spoiled by all of this. And it was while you sat leaning against Changbin while Wooyoung and Yeonjun bickered over how to cook dinner right, that you spoke; 

“I think I want to do the collab.”

The chatter died immediately and two heads poked out of the kitchen while Changbin looked down in surprise.

“So suddenly?” 

“Yeah. You said it’s best we get to know each other better…it’s been nearly a year. I want to.” 

Wooyoung leaned over the back of the couch, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Should we talk about it over dinner? I already have something in mind, it’s been in my idea draft folder but if you want in, I think it’d be wonderful-” You laugh as he chattered on, moving aside so he could sit beside you, half of his ass practically in Changbin’s lap as he spoke to you. 

Yeonjun joined after a while, and for the rest of the night, the four of you talked casually about do’s and don’t, each other’s boundaries, things you all wanted to try, and everything in between.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

“Almost done, baby. Good job.”

As you stand beside Yeonjun, you shift from foot to foot, watching as Changbin carefully spoke to Wooyoung through the entire process of him tying him up. The two exchanged sweet nothings and a few kisses here and there, laughing occasionally as they sat in their own world. 

“You look nervous. Are you sure you wanna do it today?” they inquire, looking over at you. You nod, sending them a kind smile. 

“I’m nervous because it’s the first set, but I’m sure I’ll settle into it once it's my turn.” You respond. Yeonjun smiled and looked back at the two.

“Ah, he’s finished. Go ahead, love. Changbin will take care of you while I make sure Woo stays fluffed and ready.” They spoke with an exaggerated sigh, though they looked absolutely ecstatic at the idea of teasing Wooyoung’s cock. Wooyoung clearly noticed, sending them a challenging eyebrow raise. 

“Try not to have it end up down your throat like last time.” He sassed. Yeonjun’s lips quirked, a spark of chaos behind them. 

“Have it down my throat? Got it.”

You look up as Changbin came over to you, smiling as he held up a bundle of rope of your favorite color. He excused himself, kneeling. 

“You’re okay with this still, right?” He inquired. You nod, moving your arms behind your back as instructed as Changbin got to work tying the intricate knots. You occasionally feel his fingers brush against your skin, goosebumps rising in their wake. His breath ghosting across your abdomen has the same effect, and without meaning to, you meet his gaze as you look down at him. 

Neither of you say a word as you hold eye contact. 

The moment is broken by a sharp curse coming from Wooyoung as he tried to buck up into Yeonjun’s mouth, only to be foiled by them yanking his hips down thanks to the ropes. A pleased purr rumbled from somewhere at the back of their throat as they popped their mouth off, stroking him with a Chesire grin stretched across their face. 

“You always talk so much shit but then crumble apart the moment I get my mouth on you, I think you like being a brat a bit too much. Remember, Wooyoungie-” Yeonjun’s smile grew wider as they bit into the dip at Wooyoung’s hip, pushing his hips down when he bucked once more.

“-I’m not Changbin, I’ll edge you until you fall apart, you little shit.”

Changbin rolled his eyes and moved you around, setting you on your back and pulling your knee up. 

“With this position, please let me know if you feel any cramping, even if we’re in the middle of a scene, I’ll come and let you stretch them out, okay?” He cooed to you and you nod, letting him move and adjust your body as needed. As your head hit the pillow, you find yourself focusing on the calm thrumming of your own heart. The silk of the rope rubbed pleasantly against your thighs as Changbin bound your ankles. 

It's when his hands brush against your cock that you let out a sharp inhale. He looked to your face for any signs of discomfort, but you simply nod and whisper for him to keep going. He nodded and continued, adjusting the knot so every move of your body would make it rub against your cock, his fingers rubbing along the length a few times in the process. 

You see his cheeks darken ever so slightly as you moan softly, but neither of you comment on it, and soon you’re ready, your nipples hard as Changbin tested the rope strength and made sure the knots were firm. The sound of sucking and Wooyoung groaning in frustration pop the two of you out of your little bubble as Changbin looked over to Yeonjun and Wooyoung. 

“Yeonjun leave my baby alone before I rope your ass up, too.”

“Oh, please do.”

You turn your head in time to see Changbin place a thunderous ass slap to Yeonjun’s ass. They shot up and Changbin chuckled as he picked Wooyoung up, setting him beside you so both of you were facing each other. Wooyoung stuck his tongue out at Yeonjun before turning to look at you, immediately switching his gaze into a sultry one. 

“Hey there, sexy. Come here often?”

You match his expression, letting Changbin-and a sulking Yeonjun-move the two of you around for the shot. 

“No, but after today, I might like to.”

You miss the way both Yeonjun and Changbin perk above you, exchanging a look with one another and an ecstatic smile. Wooyoung’s eyes lit up as well, before he tilted his head ever so slightly.  

“I’d be really happy if you did come back for more…You look amazing, by the way.” Wooyoung whispered, as if speaking above that level would break the immersion. The goosebumps return to your skin before Changbin cupped both of your chins. 

“We’re going to start. Let me know if anything is too tight or if you feel yourself cramping up at all.” He spoke slowly, making sure to look both of you in the eyes. It made you feel comfortable, that he spoke to you and Wooyoung as if it were both of your first times instead of just yours. It didn’t put you on the spot, and without thinking, you press an appreciative kiss to his palm as he asks again for affirmations. 

“Do you both understand?”

“Yes, Binnie/Yes, Sir.”  

With that, Changbin switched places with Yeonjun and picked up the camera. 

Your focus shifted to Yeonjun immediately as they drag their thumbs over both of your lips. You hear camera clicks behind them, but it doesn’t distract you, your eyes locked onto their face. You can’t help but to find your mind wandering. The three of them really did look so attractive when they were focused. 

Yeonjun’s eyes were hooded and you felt a chill run down your spine as the two of you locked eyes. 

“Open your mouths just a bit.” Changbin instructed and you part your lips, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as Yeonjun’s thumb sat on your bottom lip. You can hardly hear the camera in Changbin’s hands anymore as you flick your tongue over the pad of Yeonjun’s thumb. 

A pleased rumble passes through their lips as Wooyoung does the same, slowly sucking their thumb into his mouth. The two of you slowly curl your tongue over Yeonjun’s thumbs, lips parted slightly so Changbin could get the shots. Yeonjun’s fingers twitch ever so slightly and you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest as you notice their arousal.  

You glance down at the prominent bulge before slowly dragging your gaze up their lean body, tilting your head with a smile as you wrap your lips around their thumb. 

“Y/n.” Yeonjun growled out, and a pleased shiver ran up and down your spine. 

“I’m gonna move you two around.” Changbin informed you both as he grabbed Wooyoung, giving him a slow, gentle kiss before getting him comfy at the center of the bed. He looked towards you, sleeves rolled up as he grabbed your waist, picking you up with ease. You can’t help your eyes gravitating to his muscles, a purr leaving your lips. 

“What, I don’t get a kiss too?” You tease, quirking a brow at him. Changbin’s brow arched before he looked at Wooyoung. The two exchange a small thoughtful hum before Changbin cocked his head. 

“Depends. You want one?” 

You stare at him with slightly widened eyes, looking over at Wooyoung, who was watching you both with interest. Yeonjun had sat beside him, gently running their fingers up and down his abdomen as they rested their chin in their free hand, waiting. 

You look back at Changbin and clear your throat slightly. 

“Maybe I do want one.”

He leaned, pressing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. It took a moment for your brain to catch up and realize this was real and actually happening, but when you do, you press back against him, grateful for his steady grip on your bound body as he balanced you in his arms. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you apologize halfheartedly to Yeonjun for the lipstick that had definitely gotten smudged as Changbin’s tongue finds its way into your mouth. 

“A damn shame we don’t have the mask. This would’ve been a perfect shot of them kissing while you blow Y/N, Wooyoung.” Yeonjun sighed, lightly raking their nails over one of Wooyoung’s nipples. Wooyoung groaned and rose his hips uselessly, watching as a pretty clear string of precum dribbled down the side of your cock as Changbin broke the kiss. 

Changbin put his forehead to yours, looking into your eyes before he gave you a brief, chaste kiss and set you ontop of Wooyoung. 

You blush the moment you realize how heated both of your bodies are, and once you look up at Wooyoung to ask him if the kiss was really okay, you find the words caught in your mouth as he looked down at you. 

“Yeonjun, I’m gonna fuck up my lipstick, too.” He spoke without his eyes leaving yours. You feel yourself throb in anticipation, aching dully as Yeonjun stands and sighed dramatically. Every harsh breath from either of you is a reminder that your cock is pressed right against Wooyoung’s.

“As if you don’t always ruin my hard work anyway. Go on and kiss while I get your baby all ready.” Yeonjun set up the camera, waving a hand and letting a video play as they and Changbin stood just behind in, moving so subtly you could barely hear them as Wooyoung leaned in to kiss you. 

You meet him halfway, craning your neck up and humming in delight as you feel him grind his cock against yours. Whereas Changbin’s kiss tasted of coffee, Wooyoung tasted of something sweet you couldn’t put your finger on. You feel his muscles twitch below you, a small frustrated growl leaving his lips at the reminder he couldn’t wrap his arms around you. 

A small inhale from across the room draws your attention for a moment and you break the kiss with Wooyoung, kissing down to his neck for the camera, while you were actually stealing a peek at what Yeonjun and Changbin had been up to.

You clench on nothing when you find Yeonjun watching the two of you, their hand over Changbin’s mouth and the other wrapped around his cock as they stroked him slowly. You could see every vein on his cock even from here, and it made your mouth water instantly at the thought of it inside of you. 

Yeonjun caught you stealing glances and purred something into Changbin’s ear, stroking faster as they rolled their thumb over the head of his cock, smearing precum along the tip. 

‘Look at them, they’re both practically begging for your cock.’ 

They nibble at Changbin’s earlobe and mutter something you can’t hear, and you remember you shouldn’t stare for too long, turning your head to kiss Wooyoung once more. He happily responded in kind, lifting his hips to grind his cock against your folds as best he could. 

“Wooyoung-” Your voice came out breathless against his lips as your hips twitch. Both of you did your best to rut against one another, your nipples perked and erect against his chest as he lifted his hips. 

At some point the camera is moved, and you can hear the sound of shutter clicks as Wooyoung rolled his hips up, grinding his cock upwards, whining as it slid between your cheeks. 

“Good boy, I bet it aches so much, doesn’t it? Being sooo~ Close to Y/n’s ass but not being able to have it. I bet you could slip riiight inside with how much oil we put back here.” Yeonjun purred from behind the both of you. A pathetic and frustrated sound ripped from Wooyoung’s chest as Yeonjun paused in their teasing to grab his cock, stroking it right against your rim. 

It took everything in you not to just ask Yeonjun to prep you so you could sit back, but just as soon as the thought crossed your mind, Yeonjun stopped teasing Wooyoung, taking a few pictures of his cock right against your hole before they reached to cup your cock, rubbing slowly. 

“Fuck!” You curse, pressing against Wooyoung as you raise your hips, chasing Yeonjun’s soft touch against the crown of your cock. They chuckle and rub the head in fast circles, leaning into your ear as you moan and rut against their hand, smearing more precum against their fingers. 

“Look at you, you’re a natural~” They purr, pulling their hand away after a moment. 

“You don’t even need me to keep you interested, both of you are enjoying each other’s company just fine~” They sing, laughing as you subtly raise your hips to try and get them to keep touching you. 

“Oh? For me? You shouldn’t have~” They purr, licking the precum off of their fingers before planting a firm slap to your cock. A jolt of pleasure shot up your spine and it’s only Wooyoung’s presence that kept you from completely falling face-first into the sheets as your body quivered in excitement and surprise at the jolt. 

“We have a shoot to do, darling. Focus on that and maybe I’ll give you more treats later.” They tease, walking away from the two of you to grab the camera. 

You can feel yourself aching for release as Yeonjun took a few more pictures, and a passing comment about how wet you were and how much you’d gotten on Wooyoung’s cock made you clench. 

“You both okay?” Changbin inquired, having rolled a ring down over his cock to keep himself hard as he moved you and Wooyoung around, untying your legs and slowly stretching them for you before he took a step back to think, eyes wandering over both of your bodies. 

You nod, leaning on Wooyoung as you try to keep your head from spinning. He put his head on yours, giving an affirmation that he, too, was okay and Yeonjun whispered something into Changbin’s ear once more. 

His face lit up with inspiration, moving the ropes around with skill, his tongue poking out as he concentrated. 

You find yourself bound to Wooyoung with a Hitachi wand settled into the ropes. Changbin had settled you in Wooyoung’s lap, and both of you could feel the head of the wand right against yourselves as Yeonjun came close to admire the work. 

“I know I’m a genius when it comes to ideas, but you really can take most anything and put it into your rope work, huh?” They praised idly, taking a few pictures. You meet Wooyoung’s gaze, and wonder if he can feel the thundering anticipation of your own heart as you wait for the buzzing of the toy. 

Wooyoung looked every bit as excited as you felt, lipstick smudged onto the corner of his lips and even his cheek as he leaned up for another kiss. Changbin’s hands find their way into both of your hair, pulling just hard enough to make you both inhale sharply, tilting your heads back. 

It's then when you come face to face with Changbin’s cock. Thick and throbbing, its right in front of both of you and you’re almost embarrassed by the way you felt your mouth water. You almost go cross-eyed staring. Movement caught your attention, and you can feel Wooyoung’s breath as he leaned closer despite the grip in his hair, kissing the side of his cock. You mirror him, running your lips over the other side. 

Changbin groaned, keeping still with an impressive amount of control for someone having their dick kissed and teased by two people. Wooyoung moved his head down, lapping at Changbin’s balls and you take the opportunity to slide him into your mouth, dragging your tongue along the slit before dipping the tip if it in, purring to yourself as his hips twitched ever so slightly. 

Yeonjun moved somewhere in the room, but you hardly pay it any mind as you bob your head, trying to see how far down on his cock yoy could leave your lipstick mark. Wooyoung noticed and watched with half-lidded eyes as you swallow down a little over half of his cock, your eyes watering as you hold yourself down. Wooyoung smiled at you like the cat that ate the canary, moving his lips off of Changbin’s balls to gently nudge your cheek. 

You move and watch Wooyoung slide down slowly, his throat bulged out as he wrapped his lips just short of the base of Changbin’s cock. You watch in wonder, seeing Wooyoung’s throat move as Changbin slowly fucked it, and you take the time to lick at Wooyoung’s bulging adam’s apple. 

He moaned quietly before it turned into a choked gasp, one you shared with him as you suddenly feel the wand situated between the two of you switch on. The two of you squirm and writhe, not realizing every jolt and movement only pressed you both closer to each other, and thus kept the wand firmly in place between you. 

Changbin watched you both with hooded eyes, grabbing his cock at the base and stroking it slowly in front of both of your faces without a word. He looked ready to burst, his cock flushed a lovely shade of dark pink as you and Wooyoung met in the middle, moaning around the head of his cock as you shared a kiss. 

Gradually, the speed and intensity of the vibrations turned up until both you and Wooyoung were incoherently rutting against one another, moaning and kissing each other and Changbin’s cock as you chased your orgasm. 

You feel your muscles tense, sweat rolling down your body as you hump and grind against Wooyoung and the toy, a coil tightening in your stomach. Wooyoung is just as bad, mouth open as swears and pleads for it not to stop cascade out of his mouth. 

Changbin stepped away without you realizing, letting Yeonjun have the full shot with the best lighting as you and Wooyoung finally cum. Your cock throbs and pulses, your precum making a mess of the wand and Wooyoung. Tears running down your cheeks as you tried-and failed-to decide if you wanted to rut more into the wand or shy away from the powerful sensations. 

You wouldn’t have been able to in this state, anyway. 

Wooyoung threw his head back, body jolting as he thrusted upwards, sending the head of the toy against the underside of the head of your cock as he came all over both of your stomachs, a string of colorful words freefalling from his lips. 

You whine and pant, feeling hand in your hair, and you realize Changbin has moved back into place again, stroking his cock in both of your faces, the ring discarded somewhere. Wooyoung and you both open your mouths, occasionally jolting and trembling as the toy buzzed on between you. 

Changbin bit his lip hard, chest rising and falling quickly as he finally came, thick ropes of cum landing across both your faces and along your tongues. Changbin made sure to milk his cock, stroking and squeezing until every last drop had landed on either you or Wooyoung before he stepped out of the way, letting Yeonjun come close for the final shots. 

You and Wooyoung look up, panting quietly before licking your lips, mirroring Yeonjun behind the camera. You glance at Wooyoung and lean up for a kiss, sharing the last few drops with him as Yeonjun filmed. 

“And we’re done.” Yeonjun called, setting the camera aside and turning the wand off. You let your head thump onto Wooyoung’s shoulder as you try and catch your breath, feeling Changbin untie you both. 

“You okay?” He inquired, helping you out of Wooyoung’s lap. 

“Holy fuck.” You murmur after a moment, hearing all three of them burst into laughter.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

You smile and thank Changbin after he finished helping you stretch, a bottle of lotion situated on the downstairs table. He moved over to Wooyoung to help him with his sore muscles and you can see Yeonjun curled up on the couch, glasses on their face as they edited the videos and pictures. 

“I hope you had fun, Y/n. I know I did.” Wooyoung hummed, smiling and giving Changbin a spiderman kiss after pulling him down to his level. You take a sip of tea as Changbin kissed him back. 

“I meant it. You’re a natural.” Yeonjun praised, voice sounding absent as they cropped certain frames out of the overall video. You feel heat creep to the back of your neck as you nurse your cup of tea. 

“I think…I’ll want to do some more in the future. If that’s alright with everyone here.” You say after a moment. Wooyoung and Changbin look at you in surprise and Yeonjun smiled, tilting their head to the left. 

“I knew you’d be a good edition.”

“Y/n! This is great!” Wooyoung shot up and crawled over to you, setting his chin on your knees like a puppy. You could swear there were stars in his eyes as he looked at you. It made you flustered, and you lightly turn his head to look away from you, only for it to snap back where it originally was. 

“This means you can choose the next set, Y/n. It’s only fair.” Changbin told you, picking Wooyoung up with ease and making him lay down as he rubbed the lotion on his legs and checked the rope marks. 

You bring the cup up to your lips, smiling ever so slightly. 

“I’ll take some time to think about it, then.” 

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